Today I’m sharing my take on the classic Oatmeal Raisin Cookie.
Today for #SundaySupper we’re honoring the fathers in our lives. Whether they earned the title by blood or by loyalty or by years of distilled wisdom we’re honoring the ones who have guided us, helped us, and shaped us into the people we are today.
My dad has never been one for the lime light. You’re much more likely to find him in the back fixing an electrical shortage than on a stage. Dad’s the one in the backyard, manning the grill, making sure your steaks turn out just right. He’s the one tucked under the hood of a car hooking up jumper cables because his darling daughter can’t remember to turn her lights off. He’s the one hanging lights, building closets, doing the dirty work no one else seems to want to do. And he’s doing it all quietly, without fanfare, without attention, and all too often, without thanks.
My dad isn’t the extravagant type. He doesn’t express his love in giant bouquets or strings of diamonds. Instead, he lives it, every day, with thoughtful, generous gifts of time and service.
I credit my dad with teaching me that kind of love. The kind of love that doesn’t have to be loud or showy, but instead proves itself with quiet, faithful devotion over the long haul. It’s the kind of dependable, constant love you know you can count on when you’re stranded on the road at one in the morning. It’s the kind of love that will show up to watch you play Laurie in Oklahoma three nights in a row, even though you know he doesn’t really like musicals. it’s the kind of love that sits patiently beside you, not acting a bit terrified, as you make your first shaky, jumpy drive around the block.
For so many reasons, these oatmeal raisin cookies remind me of my dad. I don’t know if they’re his favorite dessert–he does love a good crazy cake or Crisco cookie–but I do know they’re way up there at the top.
I’ve always thought it was fitting that dad would choose the humble oatmeal raisin cookie over it’s famous cousin, chocolate chip.
Like dad, the oatmeal raisin cookie doesn’t get a lot of attention. It’s not paraded on blogs, featured on the covers of cookbooks, or raved about in cafes. But the oatmeal raisin cookie is the kind of cookie you can depend on. It’s comforting and homey. It’s sturdier than a chocolate chip cookie and feels like it would hold up better under pressure. It’s the cookie of lunch bags and after school snacks. The cookie you find nestled in a jar on the counter, there for you if you need a quick breakfast or a late night nibble. It’s just like dad– faithful, comforting, humble, good.
I feel a little bit embarrassed that it’s taken me this long to share my favorite oatmeal raisin cookie with you all. There are so many different recipes for oatmeal raisin cookies–some cakey with just a little oats, others packed with ginger or nutmeg, others crisp and buttery thin little wafers. Truthfully, I like these cookies every which way, but this seems to be the recipe I return to most often for a classic, chewy oatmeal cookie. This one is made with old fashioned rolled oats so it retains that addictive crisp-chewy, hearty texture. Lightly spiced with cinnamon, the smell of these cookies will draw people to the kitchen like moths to a porch light. I like to add pecans to them, but they’re good just as plain as can be, too.
Like most of my cookies, I have three recommendations for these: underbake, underbake, and omg you should really take these out before they’re totally done! If you want to retain that crisp outside and gooey center, take these out just when the perimeter is set then allow them to finish setting up on the baking pans.
Wait that excruciating five minutes for them to set up then scoop them straight from the hot pan and dunk them right in a big glass of ice cold milk. There’s not a more satisfying or comforting treat out there. I’m convinced.
…and pro tip: These are a perfect candidate for freezing cookies. Mix up a double batch of the dough so you can have the extra on hand in the freezer for when the cookie craving strikes!
Recipe adapted from Ezra Pound Cake and Barefoot Contessa Back to Basics: Fabulous Flavor from Simple Ingredients