…Mostly for the simple reason that I grew up on the upper west side of Manhattan and it just wasn’t a thing that we did. It wasn’t ever a viable option. I also felt that there would be only one reason to join and that that reason would designate me a traitor. I would not have joined to perform tasks to learn life skills or help humanity, I would have joined to have access to the greatest cookie in the world: The Thin Mint.
About 6 months ago, my boyfriend and I were meeting some friends of his for dinner and drinks at a local restaurant. We were laughing and drinking and having a great night out when he leaned over and apologized for being a bit delayed (he’d been working in Long Island on a restaurant mural and missed an earlier train). He said, “But I brought something to make it up to you.” and opened his bag to reveal the trademark green box. Without missing a beat- barely even taking a breath- I grabbed my coat, threw money on the table and announced our immediate departure. I did it unconsciously. I could think of nothing but tearing open the plastic sleeve, eating everything inside and basking in the chocolate mint haze that I’m always left in, post cookie feast. I’m a simple girl.
I wrestle with the power of being a creative and inquisitive chef. I would love to credit my explorative nature with fearlessness but, of course, most of the time it’s just my belly begging to be filled yet again. We’re lucky to live in a world where so many cooks can share notes from their expeditions. One man’s craving is another man’s paunch. I have found a few recipes online for Thin Mints and had fun experimenting with them. Lepetitbrioche.com had the recipe I liked the best, though I’ve increased the amount of salt and peppermint oil. The final result made me feel that the only thing wrong with the cookie was the name.
Now, without further ado, I bring you… The Fat Mint, because… let’s call a spade a spade, you know? I don’t think the word “thin” has any business hanging around this cookie. I would call them “Eat so many that you wake up the next day in a daze of delirious self loathing cookies” but it’s a bit wordy and hard to remember. I always throw mine into the freezer after they have cooled but they never last more than a day or two (truthfully, often they’re gone in hours). Listen, you’ve gotta give yourself permission to go off the deep end once in a while. These make a big happy splash.