Should be the title of this recipe. In its defence, I did make a couple of unavoidable changes: we had no vanilla so the cookies are sans vanilla (which would you believe makes them taste like crap?) and I think it an American recipe but I used English measuring cups. Still, I think the recipe itself is still partly to blame. These are slightly better than the inedible rock scones of my own creation, but only just. I was just looking at the cookies trying to think what they reminded me of. Anaemic cow pats was the first thing that sprang to mind, but on second thought, they actually remind me of baby rusks (albeit with slightly less flavour due to my unfortunate lack of flavouring). Instead of enjoying a bank-holiday treat, my poor husband and M will now have to choke down these rusky morsels. If they don’t I will, because I wasted two eggs on them. Two eggs out of a box of six that was to last until Friday (payday) but would have been better off in a curry, or as scrambled eggs. Grrr. When will I learn. I can’t make cookies.