This is a follow up to my post from a few days ago about perfecting my Oatmeal 'Something' Cookie recipe.

Last night, I baked some of the cookies from the same batch that I made a few days ago. And they didn't come out right!

I can't tell you how mad I am about this. When Boyfriend and I lived in England, I made these cookies over and over again and found that there were two tricks to baking them in that apartment's particular oven: bake the dough from frozen and use the convection oven setting for the last three or four minutes (it made the outermost part just the slightest bit crispier).

In our current apartment, I learned quickly that the oven runs hot, so I set it a few degrees lower than 375, and it works like a charm.

Back to the most recent batch of cookie dough: I made it a few days ago. On Day 1, I had set the dough in the refrigerator for several hours before baking it. Those cookies were excellent. The next time I baked from that batch of dough, Day 2, the dough was still in the fridge, wrapped in wax paper and sealed in a zip-top bag. Those cookies came out fine.

On Day 3, with about a third of the dough still remaining, I didn't foresee anymore baking in the near future, so I moved the dough to the freezer. Then last night, Day 4, I decide to throw some cookies in the oven, straight from the freezer, for some friends who were over.

They (er, the cookies, not the friends) came out awful. Boyfriend says they were fine, but they were definitely in the oven a minute and a half too long, so the bottoms were hard. Leaving them in too long was the first problem, but secondly, the dough didn't melt and spread the same way it did when it came straight from the fridge.

Because I often don't cook from a recipe, I'm usually very flexible about matters of consistency. Who cares if it's consistent if it still tastes good, right? But this time I just got mad, like I knew it could have been better had I just put in a little more time and a little more attention to detail.

If I care about consistency now, is that a sign that I'm maturing as a cook or that I'm getting older and more crotchety?