On Sunday, I attended my coworker Cody's annual chicken cookie party at a lavish row house in Georgetown. Yes, chicken cookies. Packed with protein (in the form of butter), these delicacies are legendary. In fact, my coworker could easily start a dessert company based on her baking prowess alone. For her party, held every year on Palm Sunday, she bakes ~200 of these butter cookies, prepares yellow and red icing for decorating and offers several tasty finger foods and beverages. The guests then mingle over vats of the icing and decorate cookies to bring home. Cody even prepares a bin full of "giblets," which are the scraps of dough left.
My first icing attempt wasn't legendary. For one, I used too much icing, struggled to put the chicken's red gobbler on and totally ruined the eye. The rest were improvements. Cody told me that I can now say I have iced a chicken. I will report that none of the chickens survived to meet a new day.
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