1 cup all-purpose flour (pack it down in the cup when you measure it)
¼ cup Dutch-process cocoa powder (if your store doesn’t carry it, use the same dark cocoa powder you use for the following ingredient)
¼ cup dark cocoa powder (such as Hershey’s Special Dark)
½ teaspoon baking soda
¼ teaspoon salt
½ cup salted butter (1 stick, 4 ounces, ¼ pound)
4 ounces bittersweet chocolate (I used Baker’s Bittersweet—4 squares)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 large eggs, beaten (just whip them up in a glass with a fork)
1 and ¼ cups white (granulated) sugar
1 and ½ cups bittersweet chocolate chips (I used Ghirardelli 60% cacao chips)
Hannah’s 2nd Note: Florence doesn’t carry Dutch process cocoa powder or dark chocolate cocoa powder down at the Red Owl. Not only that, she doesn’t carry any bittersweet chocolate, either in one-ounce squares or in chips. I wanted to make these right away so I used Hershey’s regular cocoa powder in place of the two cocoa powders, regular semi-sweet baking chocolate to melt with the butter, and regular chocolate chips. Despite all these substitutions, the cookies were still incredibly superior chocolate cookies. I made them again once I’d managed to find the Dutch process cocoa powder, the Hershey’s Dark Cocoa Powder, the bittersweet baking chocolate, and the bittersweet chocolate chips. The resulting flavor was deeper, darker, and absolutely marvelous. My point here is that even if you can’t find some of the ingredients at your store, this is still a superb chocolate cookie recipe.
Hannah’s 3rd Note: Bittersweet chocolate is any chocolate with 60 percent cacao.
Line your cookie sheets with parchment paper or baking paper. (I also took the precaution of spraying my parchment paper with Pam. With all the substitutions I made in the original recipe, I was afraid the cookies might stick.)
Mix the flour, cocoa powders, baking soda, and salt together in a small bowl with a whisk. Whisk until they are evenly combined.
Place the stick of salted butter in a microwave-safe bowl. Roughly chop the bittersweet chocolate and add it to the bowl with the butter. Melt in the microwave for 1 minute at full power.
Let the butter and chocolate mixture sit in the microwave for another minute and then attempt to stir it smooth. If it’s not yet melted enough to do this, heat it in the microwave in additional 20-second increments until you can stir it smooth. (You can also do this on the stovetop over low heat, but make sure to stir it constantly.)
Stir the vanilla into the melted butter and chocolate mixture. Let it cool on the counter.
Use an electric mixer to beat the eggs and sugar together at MEDIUM speed until the mixture is light yellow in color and fluffy. (This takes 3 to 4 minutes.) You can also do this by hand, but it takes some muscle.
Turn the mixer down to LOW speed and slowly pour the chocolate and butter mixture into the mixer bowl. Mix this until it’s well combined.
Leave the mixer on LOW speed, and sprinkle in the flour mixture. Mix until it is combined, but DO NOT over-mix. (This is like brownie batter. Mix it too much and it will lose its fluffiness.)
Take the bowl out of the mixer and fold in the chocolate chips by hand.
Scoop out rounded tablespoons of dough and drop them on the cookie sheets. (Lisa and I use a 2-Tablespoon cookie scoop to do this down at The Cookie Jar.) The cookies should be at least 2 inches apart, no more than 12 cookies to a regular size cookie sheet.
Bake the cookies at 325 degrees F., for 12 to 13 minutes, or until the outside of the cookies are “set”, but the insides are still soft and slightly under-baked. (Just like brownies.)
Remove the cookies from the oven and transfer the cookie sheets to a wire rack. Cool the cookies on the cookie sheets for 4 minutes. Then pull out the cookie sheet, leaving the cookies and parchment paper on the wire rack to completely cool.
Store these cookies in an airtight container at room temperature. Julia says they are best enjoyed within a week, but I’m almost certain they won’t last even half that long!
Yield: 2 and ½ to 3 dozen incredible chocolate cookies, depending on cookie size.
Chapter Nineteen
It was just past five-thirty in the afternoon when Hannah and Michelle pulled into Hannah’s parking spot at the condo. Hannah led the way up the outside staircase to Hannah’s second-floor unit while Michelle carried a large bakery box with three dozen Triple Chocolate Cookies for them to test after dinner tonight.
They were cooking dinner together. Michelle had planned it all out. She would start the Smothered Chicken and Hannah would assemble one of her favorite side dishes, Oodles of Noodles. Once the chicken was in the pan and the heat had been turned down to low, Michelle would do her evening workout on Hannah’s new exercise machine while Hannah put a green salad together and got the coffee ready to go. Then Michelle would take her shower and Hannah would relax on the couch with a glass of something cold and wet.
“I’ll catch him this time,” Hannah said, setting her grocery bags on the landing and inserting her key in the lock. “You’ve got your hands full with those . . .”
“What is it?” Michelle asked when Hannah stopped speaking abruptly and stepped back without turning the key or opening the door.
“I don’t know,” Hannah said in a low voice. “I thought I heard something inside.”
“Moishe?”
“No. It sounded like a . . . a humming.”
“Humming as in music?”
“No. Humming as in noise. It sounded like something was running . . . a mixer, or a blender, or something like that.”
“Did you leave the television on for Moishe?”
“Yes. I always do.”
“Then maybe it’s a cooking show and it actually is a blender or a mixer. Let’s go in and check it out.”
Hannah hesitated for a moment. There were no signs of forced entry. The door was still locked, the living room window was open a bit, but she’d left it that way this morning. It was still broad daylight and would be until at least eight o’clock tonight, and she lived in a secure condo complex with a guard at the gate. It was extremely unlikely that a burglar had broken into her home and was blending drinks or mixing up a cake in her kitchen. “Okay,” she said, turning her key in the lock and opening the door.
The cat who hurtled out to meet her almost knocked her off her feet. Somehow Hannah managed to catch him and carry him back inside. Whatever she’d heard was no longer audible. Perhaps the humming noise hadn’t been coming from her unit at all. Since it was summer, most of her neighbors kept their windows open during the day and it was possible that Sue Plotnik, her downstairs neighbor, had been using her mixer or her blender.
“I don’t hear anything,” Michelle said, stepping in behind Hannah.
“Neither do I . . . now. Maybe it was coming from somewhere else. Sometimes the acoustics are strange in this building. Sound bounces off these walls because the units are so close together.”
“Let’s check out the other rooms just to make sure,” Michelle said, grabbing the baseball bat that Hannah kept leaning in a corner next to the door.
They checked the rooms one by one, even peering under the beds and inside the closets. Everything was just as they’d left it this morning.
“There’s nothing here,” Hannah said, heading down the hall toward the kitchen. “We’d better get started on dinner. I told everyone to come at seven.”
Hands washed and aprons on, the two sisters started their preparations. Hannah reached into the grocery bags and took what she needed for the noodle casserole. “Here’s the chicken,” she said, handing the white, butcher-paper package to Michelle.
“Why so many chicken breasts?” Michelle asked after she’d opened the package.
“Because extra people are bound to show up. It always happens when we make dinner.”
“But what if we’re only five tonight?”
“Then we’ll have leftovers of Smoth
ered Chicken for dinner tomorrow night.”
“On leftover noodles from tonight?”
“If there are any leftover noodles. And if there aren’t, we can have the chicken and sauce over biscuits or rice.”
“True,” Michelle agreed, opening the drawer under the lower oven and getting out Hannah’s biggest frying pan. She put in a combination of butter and olive oil, and prepared to brown the chicken.
While the chicken was browning, Hannah assembled the noodle casserole and slipped it into the top oven. “I’m all ready,” she said to Michelle.
“So am I.” Michelle sprinkled the rest of the herb and flour mixture on top of her chicken and put the lid on the frying pan. She turned the heat down to simmer and went to wash her hands again. “Do you want me to set the table? Or should I do my workout now?”
“I’ll set the table while you work out,” Hannah said. “Go ahead, Michelle.”
“Okay.” Michelle turned to look at Moishe, whose head was buried in the food bowl Hannah had just filled. “Are you going to come and watch me work out, Moishe?”
Moishe lifted his head to look up at Michelle and then he followed her out of the kitchen. Hannah was amazed. Food had always been Moishe’s number one priority, but it seemed that watching Michelle on the exercise machine was even more interesting than eating.
After she’d set the table and checked the progress of the chicken, Hannah settled down on the couch with a tall glass of iced tea. She was just about to turn on the television to watch the evening news when she heard Michelle calling her from the bedroom.
“I’m here,” she called back. “What is it?”
“Come here, Hannah. You’ve got to see this to believe it.”
Hannah got up and walked down the hallway. Michelle must have discovered something new that the fancy exercise machine could do. She took one step inside her bedroom and stopped to stare in utter disbelief.
Michelle was walking on the treadmill, but she wasn’t the only one. Moishe was walking right in front of her, keeping pace with the speed of the machine.
“See what I mean?” Michelle asked, grinning at Hannah.
“He just watched me this morning, but the minute I turned on the treadmill part of the machine and started to walk, he hopped right up here in front of me and he’s been here ever since.”
“This is just . . . amazing!” Hannah knew the word she’d used to describe this feline feat was too tame, but she was at a loss for words. She had a cat who liked to pace on the treadmill. She’d never seen anything like it before. “Do any other cats do this?” she asked Michelle.
“I don’t know, but he really seems to like it. I wonder what’ll happen if I speed up the machine a little.” Michelle reached forward to the console and turned a switch.
The treadmill began to go faster. Hannah could tell because Michelle had to jog to keep up. So did Moishe, but he stuck with it, running along and wearing what Hannah thought of as his kitty-grin. “I think he likes it faster,” Hannah said.
“Maybe he does, but I’m not ready to jog that fast. I’m going to slow it down all the way and then I’ll shut it off.”
Michelle turned the machine to a slower speed for a few seconds. When she lowered the speed even more, Moishe turned around to glare at her. He gave a yowl that would have curdled milk, and jumped off in a huff to stalk past Hannah and down the hall.
“I don’t think he liked that,” Michelle said quite unnecessarily.
“I don’t think so, either. I’ve got to check with Doc Hagaman and Sue. I’ve never heard of a cat exercising on a treadmill before.”
“Maybe you won’t have to put him on a diet,” Michelle said, stepping off the machine and wiping her face on a towel. “If he exercises every time I do, he’ll lose weight on his own.”
Hannah was thoughtful as she walked back to the living room and her iced tea. Perhaps Michelle was right and Moishe would lose weight without dieting. And if Michelle was right about Moishe, perhaps she should try the fancy exercise machine to see if she could lose weight without dieting. It was worth a try. Nothing was worse than being on a diet, and everyone said that exercise was good for you. She’d ask Michelle to show her just how the exercise machine worked and give it a try.
Five minutes later, Hannah was using the treadmill with Moishe walking in front of her. His tail was swishing back and forth and Hannah could tell he was having a wonderful time. On the other hand, she was getting tired even though she’d only been walking for a minute or two. That meant that she was really out of shape and she simply had to find time to use her grand prize every day.
“That’s enough, Moishe,” Hannah said, lowering the speed until the machine stopped.
“Rrowwww!”
Hannah glanced at her feline roommate. There was no doubt in her mind that Moishe was protesting her action. “We’ll do it again tomorrow,” she told him. “I promise. And Michelle will, too. And don’t forget that Michelle works out twice a day. As long as she’s visiting us, you’ll have at least three opportunities to ride on the treadmill every day. And Norman’s bringing Cuddles over for dinner tonight. If you didn’t get enough exercise walking the treadmill, I’m sure you can talk her into playing chase.”
That information seemed to appease Moishe, at least temporarily, and Hannah went off to take her shower. Ten minutes later, she was dressed in clean jeans and a summer top, and sitting in her favorite spot on the couch, drinking the small glass of wine that Michelle had poured for her.
“So how do you like your new exercise machine?” Michelle asked her.
“I like it, at least the treadmill part. It’s the only thing I’ve tried so far. And Moishe obviously loves it.”
Moishe, who was sitting on top of his Kitty Kondo, turned around to regard her solemnly. He was perched on the top tier so that he could peer out the picture window that overlooked the outside staircase, and he was obviously waiting for Norman to arrive with Cuddles.
“Who would have guessed that any cat of mine would turn out to be an exercise buff,” Hannah commented to Michelle. “It’s certainly not behavior that he learned from me!”
Michelle laughed. “Maybe it’s behavior that you’ll learn from him. Exercise makes you feel good, Hannah. It’s fun if you don’t overdo it. You have to set realistic goals, goals that aren’t out of your reach.”
“Four times a week on the treadmill,” Hannah said. “That’s how often I’ll do it. There are some days that I just want to come home and collapse after work. That’s why I won’t say I’ll exercise every day.”
“Exactly right,” Michelle said, smiling at her. And that was when they both heard an excited yowl from Moishe. “Norman must be here.” Michelle got up to look out the window. “I don’t see him yet.”
“Moishe must have heard Norman’s car pull into the garage. He always gives me an early cat warning.” Hannah got up from her spot on the couch. “I’ll pour some iced tea for him.”
“Better wait. It might be somebody else’s car.”
“It’s not. Moishe hasn’t ever been wrong. He loves Norman and now that Norman has Cuddles, he positively adores Norman.”
There was another yowl from the top tier of the Kitty Kondo and then Moishe began to purr. His purr turned into a loud rumble and he jumped down to stand by the door.
“Shall I catch him so he doesn’t get out?” Michelle asked.
“No need. He’ll follow the cat carrier when Norman comes in the door. There’s no way Moishe is going to run out and miss an evening of playing with Cuddles.”
Once Norman arrived and let Cuddles out of her carrier, the two cats ran off to get into whatever mischief their combined kitty brains could cook up. Hannah poured a glass of iced tea for Norman, checked the progress of their dinner, and went to sit on the couch with him.
“Do you think Mike will have any news?” Norman asked her.
“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him since I called to tell him to come here for dinner. And that was
when he was parking in the lot at Minneapolis Police headquarters.”
“Do you think he would have called if he learned anything important?” Michelle asked.
Hannah shrugged. “I don’t know. Either he didn’t learn anything useful, or he’s waiting to tell us in person.”
Just then there was a knock at the door and Michelle got up to answer it. “That must be Mike now.”
“Or Lonnie,” Hannah reminded her. “Actually, it sounded more like Mother.”
“You invited Mother?”
“I didn’t invite her, but she feels she can drop by without notice. If Doc’s busy doing something else, it could be her.”
“Or Andrea, if she’s still mad at Bill,” Michelle said, considering the possibilities.
“Open the door,” Norman said, chuckling at the two of them. “The suspense is killing me.”
Michelle laughed and opened the door. “Mother!” she said.
“I know I wasn’t invited, dears, but Doc had late rounds and the telephone tree came up with something that may or may not be useful to you. May I come in?”
“Of course,” Hannah called out. “Join us for dinner, Mother. There’s plenty.”
“Plenty for two more?”
Hannah glanced at the doorway, but there was no one standing behind her mother. “Is there someone with you?”
“No, but Andrea was parking in the guest lot when I came up the stairs. Naturally, I assumed she was coming here.”
“I imagine she is,” Hannah said, and called out to Michelle who had gone into the kitchen to get their mother a glass of iced tea. “Will you set two more places, Michelle? Andrea will be here in a minute or two.”
Blackberry Pie Murder (A Hannah Swensen Mystery) Page 20