Folkcrafts, Art, and Thoughts

“I bit into the chocolate chip. Slowed myself down. By then, almost a week in, I could sort through the assault of layers a little more quickly. The chocolate chips were from a factory, so they had that same slight metallic, absent taste to them, and the butter had been pulled from cows in pens, so the richness was not as full. The eggs were tinged with a hint of far away and plastic. All of those parts hummed in the distance, and then the baker, who’d mixed the batter and formed the dough, was angry. A tight anger, in the cookie itself.” ― Aimee Bender, The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake

In the earlier days of my metropolitan life, I lived for Friday evenings―not because I had the weekend off (I did not)―but because I was fortunate to spend those evenings at quirky dessert bars with beat up tiled floors, dark wood windows, and vintage décor. It was the early 2010s where the hipster scene in Brooklyn was intense, and there was a collective hunger for underground art, music, and theatre.

One of my favorite places to frequent was a bakery called The Blue Stove, which was a local haven that operated more like Grandma’s Kitchen. It was named for the Royal Windsor Stove inside, perfectly polished in its cerulean enamel. When my husband and I were dating, we ate an enormous amount of chicken pot pies and chocolate chip cookies there. Unfortunately, the bakery went gentle into that goodnight when the COVID-19 Pandemic eradicated several local businesses.

Next to The Blue Stove, one of my other favorite establishments was place called The Chocolate Room, not to be confused with the global Australian chain of the same name. It is here that I learned how chocolate could vary in flavor, much like beer and wine: with notes of toffee, coffee, fruit, or nuts. Their deserts held complex chocolate flavors that would change how I eat chocolate forever; most immediately, in chocolate chip cookies. I learned to swap out baking chips and experiment with the percentages of cacao.

Our eventual exodus from the Big Apple gave us an opportunity to cook and bake more at home, for as lovely as our smaller town is, it lacks the same walkable streets and opportunities for urban exploration―save for the pockets of historic sites. One of the first home baked staples we made inspired by our old life are good old fashioned chocolate chip cookies.

This recipe creates cookies similar to the ones we used to indulge in back home, and we reminisce about the beautiful Blue Stove bakery and handsome atmosphere of The Chocolate Room every time we eat these. For a localized and delicious treat, we will bake them using Amish butter. When money is not tight, we use Valrhona chocolate.

The combination of memories and quality (or just memories because things are expensive) make for a comforting classic treat that we indulge in on chilly nights when the world seems to have gone cold and cruel.

Here are the cookies that remind us of the sweetness that still exists.

Ingredients

• 16oz (226g) unsalted butter, room temperature
• 1 ¼ Cup (240g) dark brown sugar, firmly packed
• ½ Cup (100g) granulated sugar
• 2 Teaspoons (10g) vanilla extract
• 2 large eggs
• 2 1/3 Cups (250g) all-purpose flour
• 1 Teaspoon baking soda
• 1 Teaspoon sea salt
• 1 ½ Cups (370g) semi-sweet chocolate chips

Instructions

1. In a large mixing bowl, cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Beat in the eggs and vanilla until fully incorporated.
2. Whisk together the flour, baking soda, and salt and mix into the sugar and butter mixture until fully incorporated. Do not over-mix to prevent dough from becoming bread-like and chewy.
3. Fold in the chocolate chips. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and chill in the refrigerator for 1 to 4 hours. For the best results, chill overnight.
4. Preheat oven to 375°F/190°C.
5. In heaping tablespoons, drop cookie dough onto a parchment lined cookie sheet, giving each cookie at least four inches of space between each other.
6. Bake cookies in the middle of the oven for 12 to 15 minutes or until edges are lightly browned. Cookies are ready when the center still looks a little raw. Cookie will continue to bake as it cools.