This cookie is perfect. You can press it so it’s flat and crisp, or mound it up to be soft and chewy. You can control the darkness with a little sleight of hand come molasses time, and the chewiness of the oats with a food processor. This cookie is, simply put, scrumbtious (see what I did there turning the “p” upside down?). I present to you, honored ones, a visual journey through its steps, and, without (m)any more commas, the recipe.
- ½ cup butter
- 1 cup sugar
- 1 Tablespoon molasses
- 1 egg
- 1 Tablespoon vanilla
- ½ cup whole wheat flour
- ½ cup all-purpose flour
- 1 ½ cups oats
- ½ teaspoon salt (I use kosher)
- ¾ teaspoons baking powder
- chocolate chips or other add-ins, as desired
Directions [with commentary, to make the directions seem long and difficult so the effort seems commensurate with the deliciousness of the result.]
1. Mash/smash/blend/beat together butter, sugar, and molasses.
[The more you fluff them past a homogeneous mixture, the fluffier your cookies will be. That does level out at some point though so don’t come back and tell me that you spent 5 hours flogging the fluffed batter without a proportionate increase in cookie height .]
2. Add egg and vanilla to mixture, and combine.
[I used a duck egg once, and they were the best cookies I’ve ever made. Try it if you get a chance, and don’t worry if the yolk is a lot thicker than a chicken egg. That’s normal apparently, as I learned after much concern upon cracking the egg into the bowl, and a few frenzied google searches.]
3. In a food processor, pulse half the oats to a rough flour.
[Or leave them all whole. Or grind them all to little bits (but not maliciously). I usually do half and half.]
4. Mix together all dry ingredients.
5. Combine wet and dry ingredients, and add in the chocolates chips/nuts/coconut flakes/raisins/cranberries/etc. of your dreams.
[I like to divide the batter into two bowls at this point. Into one bowl I toss a handful or two of roughly chopped semi-sweet chocolate chips, so there are little flecks of chocolate throughout. The other I leave plain, and flatten into thin oaty cookies on the baking sheet .]
6. Place dough in spoonfuls of desired size onto a baking sheet. Sprinkle with kosher salt if you’re into that.
[If you feel the need to be very particular about size, mine usually resemble golf balls, one of which can be kept on the counter nearby for comparative purposes. Do eat some of the dough raw, or at least lick the spoon, if you have faith in the ability of your gastrointestinal flora to keep you safe from salmonella. Use accurate self-assessment here. I can personally attest that I eat some of the dough every time I make it, and I’ve never had any ill-side effects. Also, if you’ve never sprinkled salt atop a chocolate chip cookie or other confection before baking, you should most definitely try it.]
7. Bake cookies at 375 degrees, for 7-11 minutes based on your cookie cookedness preferences. I like them at about 9 minutes, when the bottoms and edges are crisp and the middle is still a little soft.
[If you want to save some for later, the dough does well refrigerated for a few days, or frozen in the shape of a log to cut slices off for up to a few weeks-ish. It’s never lasted long enough to test past two weeks.]
That’s it. I’ve given you the magic golden chocolatey winning lottery ticket to success. You can now impress anyone who likes cookies, and if they don’t like cookies, you should evaluate the validity of their reasoning to determine if they are still worth trying to impress.
Ta ta for now,