Cracka-assed cracka

Every office/workplace/homeowners association/what-have-you has the one female coworker or wife that all of the men adore, and all of the women hate. The hatred has nothing to do with whether or not she’s a good person. No. It’s either a) that she is interested in “guy” things like football, b) that she’s super-hot or c) that she always wins at potluck. Men LOVE girls like that, and women HATE them. It’s just the order of things.

I’m not saying there aren’t exceptions to the rule, but it’s a pretty common phenomenon.

Men see upstaging as an opportunity to enter into a overtly vicious competition with the other men in the area that ends in a winner and a loser, who will then drink a beer together and remain friends. Women see upstaging as a personal insult that can only be righted by social homicide and seething, underlying resentment. I’ve never been very good at this game, since I’m totally obtuse, really sucky at feminine social dynamics, and I will attempt to win at potluck regardless of social pressure. I just can’t help myself.

But seething resentment is BORING, and social dynamics are CONFUSING, so why not just be the girl that all the wives hate? I bring you:

“You bet your sweet ass that you’ll win the unspoken potluck contest with these crackers, sister” truffle and cheese spritz crackers


“kicking the crap out of the Joneses” truffle and cheese spritz crackers

“Thyme to be THAT girl” truffle and cheese spritz crackers

Actually, whatever the hell you want to call them. Pretend you INVENTED them for all I care. I just want to see you win, for goodness sake. Because then I’ll have other hated potluck-winners to hang out with, when I get shunned by yet another group of angry harpies who’ve shown up with another sleeve of crackers and Velveeta dip.


1 C butter, softened (two sticks)
2.25 C AP flour
1/4 C milk
1 T truffle oil
1 egg yolk
1.25 C finely grated cheese (I used half parmaggiano and half grana padano)
1 t dried thyme
1 t sea salt (fine)

salt and thyme to sprinkle


Preheat oven to 400 F.

Using an electric mixer, beat together butter, egg yolk, truffle oil and milk until thoroughly combined and fluffy. In a separate bowl, combine flour, cheeses, thyme, and salt. Slowly beat the flour mixture into the butter mixture until just combined. Fill your cookie press with the dough and press it out using the ribbon attachment onto an ungreased cookie sheet. Sprinkle the top of each cookie with salt (I like truffle salt) and thyme. Bake for 7-10 minutes on the middle shelf, or until the top starts to get golden in spots but the bottom of the cookie doesn’t get past a light golden color. You may need to rotate the tray partway through the baking, depending on your oven. Serve warm with milk.

Variations: I told you, you can invent this however you want. Use half parm and half sharp cheddar, or omit the truffle oil and use an infused garlic oil. Change the thyme over to rosemary or sage. Change the shape of the cookie. Seriously, you can’t really mess these up. Don’t have a cookie press? Roll into a log, refrigerate for a couple of minutes to firm up the dough until it’s a slicable consistency, then slice thin discs off of the log.

You? Are a cracker genius. And these will tell the world (as well as that snooty-ass Betsy from accounting) that you’re a badass at potluck, and that you won’t be shamed into baking-silence just because she’s mad that Frank from Sales thinks you’re awesome.

If you really want to take it to the next level, show up in the break room wearing a pushup bra, a low-cut NFL shirt, and carrying a batch of these cookies. In a Coors Light bucket. Why not? If you can’t beat em, make some frickin crackers.

P.S. Have you entered the Awesome Eggnog Giveaway yet?

19 thoughts on “Cracka-assed cracka”

  1. ::cough cough:: surely, you mean Lone Star…not Coors.

    Mostly because there are some Texans who would believe that Coors is an international beer. Because they are that smart.

  2. I know EXACTLY what you mean about the bizarre world of inter-office female social dynamics. I've come to see my office (every office, really) as a real-life game of "Survivor." It's all about building alliances. I can see how "providing (kick ass) cheese crackers" to the tribe would save you at the next round of Tribal Council;)

  3. Ok – you crack me up! I have never posted a comment to a blog, but you are so comment worthy…. I too have no problem being the "ousted" chic, because of my potluck competition winning record. If I am asked to bring food to a gathering (which I love to do) – you damn well bet I am gonna win. Cheers.

  4. Woah, creepy. A whole new Brooke.

    These look most killer. Nice work being that woman. I usually go with desserts at the pot luck game, cuz those piss people off on an entirely different level (caloric temptation), in addition to the one-upsmanship. I'll have to give these a go next time.

  5. Oh, BTW – not sure if you know, but your crackers were recently featured at, one of my favorite foodporn sites. They re-link back to your original blog, which is kinda cool.

  6. Who are these people you've worked with? Velveta? Really? The people at my work all cook and have some specialty dish. My old boss makes homemade pies with some of the prettiest crusts I've ever seen. Okay, there's the occasional jabba-the-secretary who brings a tub of HEB potato salad which sits sadly in the corner. But nobody actually eats that crap, except the other jabbas.

    Victor's office is actually offering a cash prize for best Thanksgiving potluck dish next week. That'll be interesting.

  7. Hehehe…. I'm not really competitive in most things. If someone gets all eked out and wants to challenge/beat me? Shrug. So be it. But when it comes to hosting, entertaining or potluck? Oooh, different story. I'm with you, girl. Requirements are:

    – at least 2 people must ask for recipe.
    – plate must be clean with nary a crumb left OR people request to take home leftovers.
    – Mean Girl Who Hates Me must be forced, by some sweet and well meaning sap, to acknowledge how awesome said dish truly is.

    I can't believe that I have RULES for winning at potluck, but there they are.

    And I agree with Jen – I also now want a cookie press.

    PS – this is why we could never to a shared potluck, but more like a symbiotic potluck. "Quick! You're on entree and starchy side. You're on salad and vegetable. You're on dessert. GO, GO, GO!!!" Because if we both ended up bringing apps? The sky would open up and somewhere in Indonesia a newborn baby with stigmata would be struck with lightning. True story.

  8. I stumbled upon your blog a couple of days ago as I was drinking coffee and perusing Tastespotting in an attempt to muster the motivation to write a much-dreaded and long-overdue paper (you say procrastination, I say motivation). Instead of writing aforementioned paper, I have gone back and read all 253 of your spitefully awesome posts while eating an entire batch of these it’s-about-thyme-I-did-some-work crackers. You seriously rock and I will be eagerly awaiting your next entry. Until then, I will have to drag myself to the gym since my ass is numb and prolonged belly laugh hardly qualifies as abdominal work. Um, I should probably get to that paper, too.

  9. I realize this is an older post, but I just stumbled across your blog when I googled "spritz crackers" since apparently my grandma thinks it's 1974 and gave me a cookie press for Christmas…

    You're awesome and your post made me laugh so hard I cried. I made peace long ago with the fact that I am destined to be the girl all the wives hate, and I love knowing there are more of us out there. I'll be ringing in the New Year with a sparkly low cut NFL shirt, some tasty crackers, and I might just bring some of my latest homebrew to toast with.

    Great work!

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