As I was traveling out west and various other places this summer on my 50 state adventure, I noticed that when it would come up that I live in DC, I would get one of a few different reactions. One: the look of disgust and assumption that I worked in politics (aka was part of “the swamp” that needed “draining”). Two: shock that I lived in the city. You know, where there are people that don’t look like me. Three: the ever-classic, DC’s part of Maryland, right? Kind readers and countrymen, I’m here with a listicle to help clear up a few things about this place!
I am not a good baker. I will admit that. I hate measuring. I don’t time things. I am imprecise. I am messy. But sometimes I just really like baking, and I figure that over the course of decades I will eventually learn enough of the science to get OK at the whole improvisation thing. (On the flip side, my improvisation works just fine for non-baking cooking. I make some pretty good stir fries and casseroles and soups.)
DC got its first Momofuku this past weekend, including a Milk Bar, which hubby and I happened to hit up on its opening night. We had been to the Milk Bar and the Momofuku in New York and were familiar with the offerings. (CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE MUSHROOM BUNS???) The last time we went in NYC, we had several cookies, and I wasn’t blown away with them. Good, but not the best cookies of my life. They are very chewy. Maybe too chewy? And I think the compost cookie tastes vaguely of trash… is that the point? (Definitely caused by the coffee grounds.) So this time I ordered “crack pie” soft serve with fudge. Enough said.
We also ordered a few cookies to go, because well, we had waited in line for two hours so we thought we ought to. One of our selections was the corn cookie, and it was my favorite of the bunch. It also reminded me that we had a giant tupperware of frozen corn in the freezer from our crop share this summer. Milk Bar uses a freeze-dried corn powder in many of its products, including the corn cookie, so I decided to dry some of our frozen corn and see what I could make. (Milk Bar does sell its corn powder, but I ain’t a cheater.)