Letters from an Aspiring Sous #9

Oatmeal chocolate chip cookies

Is it March again already? Yesterday, a colleague mentioned that she’s looking forward to no longer attending 10 pm meetings when things get back to normal (why she feels compelled to attend them now, I do not know). When will that be?, I asked. To which she replied with this countdown to normalcy — one which extends 81 days beyond the end of March. If only we could spring forward to that.

And yet part of me recoils at the idea of scurrying quickly through these first spring days in search of something more… normal. I’ve always felt a deep, almost religious anticipation of March. Beyond spring break and the accumulation of holiday memorabilia (I mean, who doesn’t love a good Palm Sunday palm branch, Passover matzah, or St. Patrick’s Day beer?), March has always methodically marked my own passage of time. I was born in March, as was my Grandpa. He would have been 93 today. And so I can’t write March off completely.

This March admittedly does feel a bit unique. The past year has been so fundamentally different than any other I’ve experienced. And yet, once again, just like my new shadow loyally following me around the apartment, March forces me to stop and reflect. Alex and I started dating in March and this week marks that milestone as well. On that night, Alex begrudgingly agreed to meet me at a bar after leaving work and just prior to beginning a 28-hour shift the following morning. I’m so glad that she did. Has it really been two years?

Each year since, Alex has presented me with a year in reflection, an annotated picture book of our prior year together. I flipped through its pages on Tuesday night over Sourdough pizza, bewildered by the sheer collection of highs & lows that make up the tapestry of this past year — from moving in together, to quarantining in New Hampshire, wildfires blotting out the San Francisco sun, and most recently bringing home our furry new friend. Has it only been a year?

Towards the beginning of the book are prominently displayed photos of the surprise birthday party that she threw for me — unsurprisingly, a (sourdough) pizza party. It was the last time either of us had more than one cohabitating couple in our apartment. That, too, was one year ago this week. Have we really been sheltering for a year?

As I look ahead to next week, which will officially mark 35 years, I’m struck by the difference that even one can make. Last year on that day, the WHO officially declared the coronavirus outbreak a pandemic. Even the most mundane of birthdays would be a wild improvement over that. If I’ve learned anything this past year, it’s to appreciate those otherwise mundane moments that make up the days (even the birthdays) — the cleaning of dishes, the afternoon naps, the accidents on the kitchen floor. Otherwise, we’re just left sitting around, waiting for normal. So let’s savor the small moments, the sweet bits, the chewy ones. You can get started with each of the chocolatey bites in these oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.

This recipe is lightly adapted from Smitten Kitchen (i.e. you lick the beaters in this version), the OG of food blogs and a go-to for any culinary inspiration needs. I kid you not, this is the only oatmeal chocolate chip cookie recipe you will ever need. If there’s any value in this newsletter, it’s knowing that we’ve sampled enough cookie recipes this past year to make that claim with mild confidence. Tuck it away somewhere safe.

(Timeless) oatmeal chocolate chip cookies

• 8 tablespoons turbinado sugar

• 1 cup dark brown sugar

• 1 cup unsalted butter

• 1 teaspoon fine sea salt

• 2 large eggs

• 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

• 1 teaspoon baking soda

• 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

• 1 1/2 cups whole wheat flour

• 1/2 cup finely chopped walnuts

• 3 cups old-fashioned rolled oats

• 2 cups chocolate chips

• Flaky sea salt

Step 1. Mix sugars, butter and salt in a stand mixer or using a hand-mixer until the butter is creamed and sugar incorporated. Use room temp butter for the hand-mixer. Add eggs (one at a time) and vanilla. Beat until mixed. Add baking powder, baking soda and flour, and mix until incorporated. And walnuts and oats until well-combined. Add chocolate and mix once or twice around the bowl.

Step 2. Detach beaters from mixing device and lick them. Alex claims that contracting salmonella is highly unlikely and worth the risk (a claim which most definitely should not be construed as medical advice, nor a substitute for professional medical expertise or treatment). I just googled that disclaimer; it sounds legit, though. Lick the beaters.

Step 3. Form 3-tablespoon-ish balls of cookie dough in your hands and place in something like Tupperware. You should end up with around 25 balls of dough, which will then be placed in fridge to cool for 20-30 minutes. Extra dough can be frozen and baked directly from freezer for 1-2 additional minutes. (You’ll thank me for making this double batch at some indeterminate later date; by the way, this is a double batch.)

Step 4. Arrange cookies on baking sheet on top of parchment paper or Silpat baking mat (my Dad recommends this Silpat knockoff for 1/4 the price) and sprinkle with flaky sea salt. Bake at 350F for 12-14 minutes until golden brown all over.

When you check the cookies around 12 minutes, bang the baking sheet a couple of times onto the stovetop or oven rack (and then again when you take them out) to flatten them into that rippled shape with a chewy center and crispy edges.

And then, well, savor away.