Friday evening B.O.B. Bob and I had the lovely pleasure of sitting in front of “THE BIGGEST CAPS FAN EVER” at the Washington Capitals game. This title was given to her by her, so I’m quite confident that she is not the biggest caps fan ever, but that’s what she will forever be known as between B.O.B. Bob and I. In case you haven’t guessed it yet, this particular girl was somewhere between the age of 13 and 16, and pretty much made everyone around her want to rip their ears off or massacre her parents for ever giving birth to such a screechy-voiced demon child. The cheering was tolerable…UNTIL. Until “Eye of the Tiger” was played, and she felt the need to sing the entire song Mariah Carey style. I kept thinking it would end, eventually she would not know the lyrics, but hell no, there was no such luck. That little bitch knew the lyrics to the entire damn song, and she was determined to sing it to the end. Next up was Annie, because “OMG, have you seen the movie? Those little kids are just sooooooooo adorable! The sun will come out…tomorrow…” At this point, I leaned over to B.O.B. Bob and said, “I’m out of beer, and I don’t think there’s enough in this stadium to make listening to that tolerable.” Thank goodness the period was ending, and we could go in search of beer.
Beer. Normally at the game I go straight for the Harp stand, while B.O.B. Bob hits the smaller traveling vendors to get a can of Coors Light or something along that lines, because it’s cheaper and weaker, and he has to eventually drive home. Harp wasn’t going to do it for me on this particular night. I’d been seeing the taps for Blue Point Toasted Lager for several weeks now, and had wanted to try it, but B.O.B. Bob kept telling me it was pretty potent. Hell yes, potent is what I needed. Potent might make the deathly screeches of a teenage girl somewhat tolerable. This is how I discovered the best beer on the planet. All I can say is “Holy Damn Good Beer!” It has the smoothest taste, is freaking yummytastic, and about 1/4 way through the cup your face starts to feel tingly. I’m not sure what they put in that stuff, but I’m hooked. It was just what I needed, because we were headed back for round two.
In the second period, we had non-stop talking. I seriously don’t think that girl ever shut up. I just wanted to turn around and say, “Breathe!” After about 1/2 way through my beer I just didn’t give a shit anymore. When the screeching started, I put my finger over the ear closest to her offending wail. I chose hearing for the rest of my life over being polite. There were several points in the game when B.O.B. Bob and I just looked at one another and couldn’t stop laughing. My personal favorite was, “OMG I’m gonna cry!” What could make this siren of hell want to cry? I’m sure you’re dying to know. Holtby, the goalie, actually stopped a puck from going into the net. Hmmm…apparently that is extremely cry-worthy…I’ll have to remember that in the future. We also had a new addition to the humor/hell fans during the second period. I like to call this guy “THE GUY WHO THINKS HE KNOWS EVERYTHING ABOUT CHICKS, BUT WILL NEVER HAVE ONE.” Apparently he thought there were a lot of chicks rocking the red at the game. Chicks are crazy. Don’t ever trust a chick giving relationship advice, if she doesn’t have a man. Chick…chick…chick. Oh, and he doesn’t have a chick, because he’s smart. Right!!! It has nothing to do with the fact that you call women chicks. Dream on buddy! Oh look at that, I’d finished my beer, and my face and fingers were starting to feel really nice.
Third period. Thank God, I think someone was finally starting to wear down and get tired. There was less screeching and a bit of yawning. Maybe I didn’t need that second beer after all. Oh wait, the game got exciting again, and with that the beast was awakened. Even the people in front of us were cringing in pain at the sound of “THE BIGGEST CAPS FAN EVER”‘s ear-mutilating shrieks. So are you wondering how our night finally ended? B.O.B. Bob and I left as fast as possible when the clock hit 0:00, to escape any further assault. My legs may perhaps have been a little tingly at this point. In the future I will have to remember that one Blue Point Toasted Lager is my limit, unless of course there is a screaming banshee sitting behind me, in which case “OMG,” give me an entire keg of that shit.
- 1 Cup Unsalted Butter, Room Temperature
- 1/2 Cup Granulated Sugar
- 1 1/2 Cups Light Brown Sugar, Packed
- 2 Eggs, Room Temperature
- 1 Tablespoon Vanilla
- 3 Cups All-Purpose Flour
- 1 Teaspoon Freshly Ground Sea Salt (Additional for Sprinkling)
- 1 1/2 Teaspoons Baking Powder
- 1 Teaspoon Baking Soda
- 1 (12-oz.) Package Guittard Semi-Sweet Chocolate Baking Chips
- 1 (12.75-oz.) Bag Planters Dry Roasted Pistachios, Shelled and Roughly Chopped
- Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
- Cream butter and sugars together for 3 minutes on medium speed.
- Add the eggs one at a time, and mix for 1 minute.
- Add the vanilla; mix for 1 minute.
- Sift the flour, sea salt, baking powder, and baking soda together in a medium bowl.
- On low speed, add the flour mixture a bit at a time to the butter and sugar mixture; mix until just incorporated.
- Fold in the baking chips and pistachios with a spatula.
- Use a cookie scoop to drop tablespoonfuls of dough onto a Silpat or parchment paper lined baking sheet.
- Sprinkle the cookies with sea salt.
- Bake for 9 to 10 minutes, or until the cookies begin to turn golden brown along the edges.
- Allow to rest on the baking sheet for 5 minutes, before removing to a baking rack to finish cooling completely.
- Store in an airtight container.
- Make your life easier by buying already shelled pistachios. Fold 1 to 1-1/2 cups of pistachios into the batter. Your fingers will thank you.
- This recipe will yield between 4 and 5 dozen cookies.
- Fold in 1 cup of roughly chopped dried cranberries.
- Replace the semi-sweet baking chips with white morsels.
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