The Worthwhile Chaos of Cookie Baking

And a Cookie Recipe That Will Bring Delight to Every Doorstep

Photo by Conor Brown on Unsplash

This coming Saturday our family will celebrate our annual Cookie Day. For those of you who are familiar with my mercurial relationship with sugar, you might be surprised that I would sanction an entire day devoted to the making and consumption of sugary treats. But while I could preach to you about the evils of that white devil till my voice grew hoarse with the effort, present me with a warm, home-baked chocolate chip cookie and you can dress me up in blue fur and call me “Cookie Monster” because all my convictions just evaporated into thin, cookie-perfumed air. It is perhaps, as St. Paul described it, “the thorn in my flesh,” but, geez Louise, it’s such a tasty little thorn.

Hence, I have given my stamp of approval to the aforementioned yearly “Cookie Day” and it goes something like this:

We begin by inviting family and neighbors over to join the festivities, and as they trickle in through the door, we cover all available surfaces in our kitchen and dining room with the baking essentials: cookie sheets, cookie cutters, spatulas, stand mixers, hand mixers, mixing bowls, measuring cups, measuring spoons, parchment paper, wax paper…seriously the list could go on for ages but I think you’re getting the vision.

Then, we add all the ingredients into the melee.

Now, I know I spend most of my time here in The Kitchen promoting my belief in a WFPB diet, and I will continue to do so. But everyone has a “cheat day” (or at least they should) and “Cookie Day” most definitely comes under that label. Call me weak, call me uncommitted to the cause, call me whatever you like—I don’t mind; I’ve made my peace with this decision. So on Cookie Day even butter and eggs and milk have space on my countertops (but never any meat—I draw the line there), along with all the other necessary ingredients: flour, sugar, chocolate chips, peanut butter, pecans, cocoa, crushed peppermints, fill-in-the-blank and we’re probably using it, etc.

Then the baking begins.

Simply said, it’s pure chaos. At least a dozen people scurry about the kitchen and dining room chattering above the old crooner Christmas music playing from the Alexa in the corner while a thin cloud of flour hovers above us, keeping watch over the activity below: the whirring mixers, the spooning of dough, the sliding in and out of cookie sheets, the calls for “Hand me that hot pad!” and “Where’s the flour?” mixed with panicked shrieks of “I forgot to pull out this tray!” and “Scott dropped the green icing on the carpet!”

And yet somehow from all this pandemonium, dozens of beautiful little bites of delight are made.

Then comes the fun part. Our friends and family pile their arms full of cookies and head for home, and our little family gets down to business. Each person picks a few people to whom they’d like to deliver cookies, and we begin to assemble the packages with a variety of our goodies and top each one with a Christmas card. We pile the deliveries into the trunk of our car, brew a batch of hot chocolate to sustain us through the hours ahead, fill our to-go cups to the brim, and set out with Andy Williams’ “Sleigh Ride” blaring through the speakers.

Despite our best efforts to make the car ride a thoroughly joyous occasion akin to the endless fun I’m sure Santa has on his sleigh every Christmas Eve, somehow we always bring the chaos from the kitchen right along with us on the drive. There’s fighting over who’s encroaching on whose space, who gets to go up to the next door, who gets to pick the next song. There are pleas of “Can we be done now?” to which there is no reply because they know their mom is a finisher. We start something, then by golly, we’re seeing it through to the bitter end. And usually far into the evening hours, we do.

What’s funny is that despite the craziness that encompasses every Cookie Day in our family’s history, come each December, one of the first questions from my Babes’ lips is “When are we doing Cookie Day?”

“Why is that?” you may wonder.

I think the answer is simple. Because every time we go up to a house, knock on the door, and hand forth a box of cookies, we’re met with pure delight. Never once have we given our gift and gotten an eye roll in return. No, it’s always the same: a smile that bursts into laughter, a hug, and a cheerful wish of “Merry Christmas” as they close the door. And suddenly all the chaos is worth it.

One of my favorite books (which I make a point of reading each December) is Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. And one of the best quotes in the book comes from Scrooge’s nephew who, when his heartfelt wish of “Merry Christmas” is met with a verbal head-butt from his uncle, persists in his cheerfulness:

“Much good it has ever done you!” [Scrooge shouts.]

“There are many things from which I might have derived good, by which I have not profited, I dare say,' returned the nephew. 'Christmas among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time…as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!”

I hope, dear friend, that the goodness of this holiday season may find you wherever you are. And should you choose to get into the baking spirit and spread some good cheer of your own to those around you, I’ve got a cookie recipe that you must add to your repertoire. Happy Baking!

Mai’s Oatmeal Specials

These cookies are vegan, but for those of you who only show up here in The Kitchen for the laughs and sneak away when the recipes come out, hold your pretty little horses. This one really is something special. So get out your mixing bowl and roll up your sleeves. It’s time to dive in.

Ingredients:

3/4 c. light olive oil (The label should say “for baking” on it. If the whole idea of baking with olive oil gives you the vapors, you can just use canola oil.)

3/4 c. packed brown sugar

3/4 c. white sugar

2 flax eggs (This is vegan code for mixing 2 tbsp. ground flax and 6 tbsp. water together and setting it aside to gel for about 5 minutes.)

1 tsp. vanilla

2 c. old fashioned oats (not quick-cooking)

1 3/4 c. all-purpose flour

1 tsp. salt

1 tsp. baking soda

3/4 c. each of chocolate chips and peanut butter chips (Yes, this recipe calls for the holy duo of chocolate and peanut butter. But if by some disastrous fate you received no appreciation for such divine couplets, have no fear. You could throw whatever chip you so desire into the mix and the outcome will be delicious.)

Instructions:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and line two or three baking sheets with parchment paper.

Into a medium bowl pour the oil and sugar and mix well. Add in the flax egg and vanilla, and stir till everything is throughly combined. In another large mixing bowl, stir together the next four ingredients (through the baking soda). Pour the wet ingredients in with the dry ones and mix well. The dough may look a little flaky, but no worries—we’ll deal with that in a minute—just go ahead and mix in your chips.

This is when having your sleeves pushed up might be a good idea. Take a tablespoon of the dough into your hands, give it a quick roll around to get all the goodies snugged up into a little ball, drop it on your prepared cookie sheet, and give it a little love tap to flatten it down a bit. Repeat for all the dough, slide into your preheated oven, and bake for 10-12 minutes, or until the tops just start to brown. Pull from the oven, let them cool on the sheet for a minute or two, and then transfer to cooling racks.

Makes 3 dozen cookies (or 2 dozen if dough eaters are involved).