The Ultimate Chocolate Cookie

Like a brownie made into a cookie, these are scrumptious on their own or with any mix-in you can imagine! See the notes for some suggestions! Recipe makes 5 dozen cookies.

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Prep Time 10

Cook Time 10

Course Dessert

Cuisine American

Ingredients

1 cup butter (2 sticks), softened
1 ½ cups sugar
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 cups flour
¾ cup cocoa powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt

Instructions

Preheat oven to 350 °F.
In a large bowl, cream together butter and sugar.
Mix in eggs and vanilla.
In a separate bowl, mix together flour, cocoa powder, baking soda and salt, then stir into the sugar mixture.
Drop by rounded teaspoonfuls onto a cookie sheet and bake for 8-10 minutes.

Notes

I call these “the ultimate chocolate cookies” because not only are they delicious on their own, but the mix-in possibilities are nearly endless!

Here are some ideas:

1 cup chocolate chips
1 cup peanut butter chips
1 cup mint chips
1 cup chopped nuts (pecans, walnuts or almonds)
1 cup shredded coconut
1-2 teaspoons orange zest
1 cup M&Ms
1/2 cup mini marshmallows
1 cup chopped dried strawberries
1/2 cup chopped dried cherries
1/2 cup chopped up pretzel bits

Keyword chocolate, cookies

I’d love to hear what you add in! Let me know in the comments!

This recipe was a part of my Christmas cookie mini-bonanza – check out the other two features, Coconut Macaroons and Sugar and Spice cookies!

Obligatory Fictional Backstory

December.

More specifically, December 24th.

Even MORE specifically, December 24th at 7:00 p.m.

Even even more specifically, my child had just realized that we had no cookies for Santa. I was on a diet so I had brought all my baked goods to work with me. His friends at school told him that if you didn’t put cookies out for Santa, he wouldn’t leave you any presents. Man I hate school kids. My son was crying and crying and nothing I could say short of “Santa isn’t real!” would have dissuaded him from the need to put out cookies. Of course that would have caused even more tears, so I decided against saying that.

I rummaged through the pantry. No chocolate chips. My sugar cookie recipe required 2 hours of refrigeration (NOT happening). I tried to convince my son that crackers are a form of cookie but he wasn’t sure that Santa would think so and didn’t want to risk losing his presents. Sigh.

What could I make short of chocolate chipless chocolate chip cookies? My son was also convinced that Santa would be offended by chocolate chipless cookies. Can’t say I blame him, I think I would be offended by chocolate chipless cookies too.

Then what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a container of cocoa powder that had been shoved to the back of the pantry and forgotten! I can work with this, I thought.

Mustering all of my skills, I quickly combined the recipes for chocolate chip cookies and brownies in my head and converted all the necessary measurements. I’m a bit of a savant that way. Just not savant enough to have figured out that I should have saved back some cookies for Santa. Oh well.

The stand mixer whirring, the oven preheating, my son’s sniffles subsiding, away I went. I measured, I mixed, I tasted, I adjusted, I notated, and at last, I baked. No, not like that. Literal baking.

The first pan slid out of the oven. My son gasped in delight at the sight of the warm, chocolatey cookies. Surely these would appease Santa! Christmas was saved!

At last he went to sleep, with visions of ultimate chocolate cookies dancing in his head.

As for me, I vowed that starting next year we are celebrating Chanukah instead, dammit.

Twas the Night Before Christmas
by Clement Clarke Moore

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of sugar plums danced in their heads.

And Mama in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap
had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.

When out on the roof there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,
tore open the shutter, and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
gave the lustre of midday to objects below,

when, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles, his coursers they came,
and he whistled and shouted and called them by name:

“Now Dasher! Now Dancer!
Now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On, Cupid!
On, Donner and Blitzen!

To the top of the porch!
To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away!
Dash away all!”

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky

so up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
with the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
the prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As I drew in my head and was turning around,
down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
and his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
and he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.

His eyes–how they twinkled! His dimples, how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
and the beard on his chin was as white as the snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.

He had a broad face and a little round belly,
that shook when he laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
and I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself.

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
and filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.

And laying his finger aside of his nose,
and giving a nod, up the chimney he rose.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”