Oatmeal Scotchies

One of my all time favorite questions to ask people is “what is your favorite dessert?” I’m the life of parties. I inevitably end up cornering some poor soul and extolling my preference for beet sugar over cane sugar while they anxiously eye an escape route. I really can’t help myself. I keep a note in my phone, as well as a running mental one, of my friends and families likes and dislikes in regards to each personal sweet tooth. To me, taste is as much a part of one’s identity as hair color or height. It becomes part of your profile: Alex, male, 6’3”, favorite cake is Tiramisu, likes maple syrup and “creamy cream” (I never said I wrote these notes sober).

The ironic part of all of this is that I would be wholly unprepared to answer this question myself. How could I choose a favorite dessert? That would be like choosing a favorite child (though I lack personal experience I hear it’s a hard thing to do).  That would be like choosing a favorite dog (to this I can relate). The truth is that I have at least five desserts that, under the correct circumstances, could be my favorites. My favorite dessert when I’m feeling fancy is an éclair because I think the combination of pastry cream, choux pastry, and dark chocolate makes me believe that there is a higher power and that he or she is most definitely French. In the depths of my summer despair the one shining light is a scoop of good vanilla ice cream melting into a puddle atop a slice of peach and blueberry pie. When I’m feeling downcast and moody, a piece of dense, dark chocolate cake is as curative as any medicine I could get from a pharmacy. And I would give away all of my possessions for just one more spoonful of my grandmother’s inimitable Banana Pudding.

But when I’m having a crazy day that just won’t seem to end, my first line of defense is always a homemade cookie. It doesn’t really matter what kind, as long as it’s homemade it’s synonymous with home, wherever I am. There’s something so satisfyingly simple about a warm cookie and a glass of cold milk that I couldn’t believe the combination would not, at least marginally, improve anyone’s spirits.

This particular recipe comes from a newspaper clipping from a vintage recipe box I found at a flea market. I love to imagine the original owner and curator of the box making these for her family and friends, maybe they were someone’s favorite.

I made only a few adaptations to this recipe. I substituted the butter for browned butter because I love the nutty flavor it imparts but you could surely use regular unsalted butter and they would still be delicious. I also scaled the recipe in half (why are cookie recipes so big? Do the want me to eat 36 cookies because that is what will happen!). Double it if you are making them for a party. I also added a little whiskey glaze which, in my humble opinion, takes this cookie to next level cozy.

Now go make them!