Baking Illustrated by the editors of Cooks Illustrated

I had a bad week, and it's not even over yet. By Tuesday, it was already bad. So on Tuesday, I decided to stop at Whole Foods on the way home today (Thursday), to get a couple braised lamb shank meals for dinner. I had bought one once before, and it was the most delicious, tender lamb shank I had ever tasted. With two of thier hot, fresh side dishes, $8.99 was a great price for such quality. And best of all, I didn't have to cook it. I chose to go today because Thursday was lamb shank day. Each day of the week, their hot food counter offers a different main entree. Ever since I made the decision on Tuesday, I have been looking forward to today's dinner. I was even thinking about getting some nice pastry item there for dessert.

You know where this is going.

I get to the hot meal counter, and I look at all the pans behind the glass. No lamb. I read the menu board. I walk up and down the entire length of the prepared foods section. I decide to ask. "Did you used to have lamb shanks on Thursdays?"

The man behind the counter looks like he's never heard of the animal. "Lamb?" he drawls. "I don't think we've had lamb in... months."

"Yeah," I mumble. "It's been months since I was last here." Now I have to think quick. What are E and I going to have for dinner? I could get the meals with a different meat. I could go buy a hunk of steak and grill it. I could get some ready-made salads. The problem is, I have no plan B. And at 6:30 after a long day, with the onset of a low blood sugar spell imminent, I can't get my mind to function at all. It keeps trying to curl me up on the floor crying, "all I wanted was some lamb!"

I do the best I can without any help from my brain. I ask for a single meal with the short ribs. The counter man says, "Um, see..." and my spirits sink. "Because the short rib is a more expensive meat, the meal is a little more expensive."

"How expensive is it?" I can't bear it.

"Well, it's $12.99."

"How much is it if I choose a different meat?"

"$9.99."

I can't make any more decisions. "OK, fine. Just give me the short rib." I know this is the wrong choice, but seeing as how my brain has checked out, there doesn't seem to be anything I can do about it. At least I only ordered one.

But is one meal enough food for two people? I should get one of those delicious loaves of French bread Whole Food makes. I got one last time I was here (months ago) and have not found a rival since. I stand in front of the bread section looking for it. There are twenty-seven different types of fresh bread made by six different companies. Every one is sour (yuck) or hard, made from whole wheat (when you've had a bad week, you're entitled to a big loaf of white bread), or dotted with herbs. They don't have the kind I want. I have no plan B. I abandon the bread.

The desserts just make me mad. Everything in Whole Foods is so ridiculously expensive that I always end the trip mad, hungry, and poor. I'm not paying those outrageous prices for an after-dinner sweet. Five dollar brownies? Please! I can make brownies myself that are better, and I already have everything I need at home.

Hmmm. That's it! After this, something warm, home-baked, and chocolatey would be perfect. I'm making brownies tonight.

When I get home, I open the takeout box holding the short rib meal. What I see makes me never want to step foot in Whole Foods again. The side dish of mixed vegetables is the skimpiest serving I've ever seen. The last time I ordered the meal (with the heavenly lamb shank), the vegetable side took up practically half the box. This one looks like two mouthful's worth-- three triangles of zucchini, two squares of red pepper, and some corn niblets. I look in and say, "that's it. I'm writing them a letter." I also launch into a ten-minute diatribe on how Whole Foods is just one big scam to jack up prices by calling their products names like "Peace Cereal" so that people will pay more to buy the smugness that comes with their fiber. But that is not the point.

The point is brownies. What would I do without my Baking Illustrated? How much do I love thee (more than Whole Foods)? Let me count the ways: chewy chocolate chip cookies, crispy chocolate chip cookies, banana bread, cinnimon rolls, muffins, scones, peanut butter cookies, and, of course, brownies. There's nothing like a home-baked treat to wash away the remnants of a bad day. Or week.

The whole house smells like chocolate now, and I just pulled the pan of brownies out of the oven. It's time for dessert.

Baking Illustrated by the editors of Cooks Illustrated

Tags: cookbooks Whole+Foods brownies Cooks+Illustrated