The Era of Cookies
Cookies generally had a bit of a moment in 2018 (see: Alison Roman “The Cookies”). And in the same year, coming off of a back-to-back pie fueled existential crisis, I turned to them for redemption.
Here’s the thing about cookies - you can go as far down the rabbit hole as you’d like. Just looking for a cookie or two? A classic Nestlé Tollhouse will do you just fine. Want to make the perfect crisp edge, chewy center chocolate chunk masterpiece? We’ve got those too. Want a dozen? Want 4 dozen? No problem. The dough seems loose? Let it see to see if the flour hydrates more. Lacey cookies where they shouldn’t be? Refrigerate. Cooking too fast on the bottom and too slow on the top? Adjust the rack, adjust the heat. And on, and on, and on. These are solvable problems. And all in a matter of minutes. You’re not baking a whole cake only to realize when you cut into it that the fruit has all dropped to the bottom and it’s soggy (sorry, Mary Berry). Or a pie that turned into applesauce and is pale, sad, and underbaked.
Dull apple pies aside, there’s nothing inherently wrong with going back to the same recipe over and over. Some are just so dang good it’s impossible to put them down. Others have been in the family so long they remind you of why you loved to cook in the first place - like my mom’s fudge crackles. I’ll say this right now -- the chocolate crinkle cookies you’ve seen in the grocery store are good and fine. I’m sure they’re chock full of fudgy goodness, rolled in powdered sugar, and delicious as all cookies should be. But there are few things as comforting as one of my mom’s lumpy, misshapen, warm fudge crackle cookies fresh from the oven and drowning in enough powdered sugar to cake onto your fingertips long after the cookie has disappeared and you’re reaching for the next.
So as I looked down the barrel of a year dedicated to cooking things I gave a shit about, cookies seemed like a pretty spectacular start. And they were. I learned so much about the nuances of heat, ingredients, texture, and timing. I found recipes I loved and developed others that became notorious enough for a friend at work to roll by my desk and say “hey so I want a savory cookie…” and walk away leaving me to ponder.
My Rosemary Lemon Shortbread cookies came from that moment. They’re definitely more sweet than savory - but what they lack in accuracy to brief, they make up for in super tender texture and not-too-sugary balance. This is a cookie for that friend you have who says “I don’t really have a sweet tooth” but like…they definitely still want dessert, what are they trying to prove?
The recipe is extremely simple, but does require chill time. I know people hate that in this universe of instant gratification. But you know what’s better than snapping your fingers and having a cookie immediately? Chilling your dough and eating a great cookie.
These little babies went through a few rounds of tweaking (too much lemon? not enough rosemary?), and the effort was worth it. These are a part of the exclusive club of cookie recipes for which I’ve had people ask hey, can you send me the recipe? And definitely ask more than once. Or twice. Sorry - the wait is over.
What I’ve learned beyond the skill of making kickass cookies (not-so-humble brag) is that baking and bringing my bakes to work helped me connect with some of the most wonderful human beings, who I love dearly. Let me tell you - people love being offered a chance to taste cookies and be opinionated. Not shocking.