I assume you’re here for a cookie recipe and we’ll start with that but while I have you, here’s a running list of some things occupying space in my mind on this gray yet bright final morning of 2020—year of quiet desperation, loud desperation, absolute wonder, a lot of humor, much time spend trying to constantly decide whether to laugh or cry or both—you know:
-On the cookie front, you can absolutely make phenomenal ones without eggs—should you, like me, often forget to buy them. Or if you just run out. Or if you want to use them to make quiche or cheesy omelets instead. Or if you, or someone you live with, has an egg allergy (did you know they are the most common allergens amongst children? I did not!). Skip the flax eggs and all that nonsense because the best replacement, hands down, is the liquid from a can of chickpeas (also known as aquafaba). Replacing the eggs in a standard recipe doesn’t always work perfectly—it depends on the type of recipe—but most cookies can handle it beautifully and you’ll taste no difference. Don't be alarmed when you add the liquid—I promise you won’t taste the chickpea flavor in the final result. A very good place to start is with the recipe that follows down below—it’s a version of my mom’s “kitchen sink”-style cookies, into which you can throw pretty much any add-in: I like shredded coconut, pecans, raisins, and Grape-Nuts, but chocolate chips and other nuts are good. My mom adds Wheat Germ which is an option if you’re into that sort of thing.
-You can easily add more honey to your tea but you can’t easily dilute it. (Note to self: Why do I continually make that mistake anyway?)
-The ideal times to read McSweeney’s articles are at 9 PM, after dessert but just before bed, when your humor susceptibility level is at CODE RED: PUNCHY; or, between 2 and 4 AM when the baby has just woken you up. He’s already fallen deeply back to sleep, the soft slope of his back rising steadily with heavy breaths. You, in one of the cruel plot twists of motherhood, are wide awake with sleep tantalizing out of reach. You start with “Why I Decided Not to Have an OBGYN and Let Wendy From Work Handle My Prenatal Care Instead” then you segue into “A Letter from Henry David Thoreau to Literature Faculties at Cushy Liberal Arts Schools” and by the time you get to this gem, you’re unable to fully swallow your fits of laughter, causing the bed to shake slightly.
-Cleaning is cathartic. The next time I update my resume I’m going to list the following under hobbies: Vacuuming the house by day with a fervor typically reserved for elite sporting events, then covering the rug in front of the couch in a light shower of biscotti crumbs by night during my evening viewing of an episode of The Crown, despite how carefully I dunk them in milk, swearing quietly under my breath in a faux British accent when I realize I’ve spilled AGAIN—exhaling a long sigh and some sort of “sod off you buggers” .
-It’s very difficult—dare I say impossible—to make oat milk well at home. (Whatever wizardry is happening in the Oatly factory over there must be gravity-defying, at minimum. Those Swedes, I’ll tell you. Magical.)
-Music always works. Go on, put this song on. Do it! Okay now this one, then this one.
-Galway Kinnell—a previous poet laureate of Vermont—writes achingly beautiful lines, like these ones from his poem “Astonishment”:
No matter
how all this comes out, from now on
it cannot not exist ever again.
We liked talking our nights away
in words close to the natural language,
which most other animals can still speak.
/
Now could be the moment
when we fall apart or we become whole.
Our time seems to be up—I think I even hear it stopping.
Then why have we kept up the singing for so long?
Because that’s the sort of determined creature we are.
Before us, our first task is to astonish,
and then, harder by far, to be astonished.
You should also read this one called “After Making Love We Hear Footsteps”, which is understandably is one of his best known poems.
The Best Kitchen Sink Cookies (No Eggs)
*If you want to vary the add-ins, go ahead—you can swap chocolate chips or chopped chocolate for the raisins, use different nuts, skip the cereal altogether, and so on. Just keep the quantity of add-ins to roughly the same amount (you can reduce the amount but don’t increase it by much or the dough won’t hold together).
*If you want to use eggs, you can skip the aquafaba and use 2 eggs — adding them at that same step.
1 cup (226g) unsalted butter, at room temperature
scant 1 cup (just under 198g) granulated sugar
1/2 cup (106g) brown sugar
3 tablespoons whole milk
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
6 tablespoons (84g) aquafaba (liquid from canned chickpeas)
1 cup (120g) all-purpose flour
1/2 cup (56g) whole wheat flour
1 1/4 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
3 cups (267g) rolled oats
1 cup (113g) chopped pecans or other nuts, lightly toasted
3/4 cup (84g) Grape-Nuts cereal
1/2 cup unsweetened shredded coconut
1 cup raisins
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.
Beat the butter with both sugars until pale and fluffy, about 3 minutes on medium-high speed in a stand mixer.
Add the milk, vanilla, and aquafaba and mix well.
Add both flours, the baking soda, salt, and cinnamon and mix until combined.
Stir in the oatmeal, nuts, Grape-Nuts, coconut, and raisins. Stir to combine but don’t worry about mixing thoroughly—it’s fine (and actually preferable) if the dough doesn’t look evenly mixed.
Scoop the dough out onto a greased baking sheet in golf ball-sized mounds and press down lightly to flatten each ball slightly. Leave a few inches between each one.
Bake for 10 to 15 minutes or until lightly golden brown around the edges—just watch them carefully.
Remove from the oven and let cool.