The Secrets of Not Failing at Cooking: Chocolate Chip Cookies

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By Nicole L Barry

Cooking Columnist

I've been baking since before I really should have been allowed to do so. I've been trying since I was seven— on one occasion waking up super early to make my mother sugar cookies for Mother's Day, climbing up onto the counter to reach everything, and then sitting on the counter to stir the dough. They turned out pale pink and crudely heart shaped, a valiant effort but probably horrible tasting. My mother, of course, doesn't remember it.

I started experimenting in the kitchen fairly regularly when I was about nine—making some kiddie version of apple charlotte out of bread, applesauce, butter and sugar, along with some other small things my mother actually let me use in the kitchen. She is an ingredient Nazi and most of my cooking adventures in my childhood were severely limited by what I could use without her screaming at me.

Actually, my cooking adventures still are. You'd think chicken breasts were akin to gold the way she reacts when I use them.

I finally got free rein to make whatever I pleased when I started cleaning my grandmother's apartment, when I was 10 or 11, which was probably the only reason I ever became good at cooking. I made banana bread out of her uneaten bananas like it was a professional business, giving them away to her friends in the apartment complex she lived in.

By the time I hit eighth grade, baking was one of my favorite hobbies. My very first boyfriend was spoiled by my efforts, in the form of batches of chocolate chip cookies. (If only the expression were true that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, my attempts wouldn't meet with such resounding failure!)

Which brings us to the subject at hand. Chocolate chip cookies are a quintessential part of any baking repetoire, and understanding chocolate chip cookie construction, in total, is to understand the foundations of most cookie recipes.  Once you've applied what I've told you, I doubt you'll ever screw up chocolate chip cookies again— because, my dear readers, I've had many a screwed up homemade chocolate chip cookie.

2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon salt

1 cup (2 sticks) butter, softened

3/4 cup granulated (white) sugar

3/4 cup packed brown sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

2 eggs

2 cups (12-ounce package) semi-sweet chocolate morsels

Turn the oven on to 375 degrees now. First. Thing. Do it.

Butter second. Most recipes say “softened”. For crying out loud, don't microwave your butter or margarine to get it softened. If this was a more delicate recipe, melting the butter (as you will, at least a little of it, if you choose to microwave it) would permanently screw it up. If you don't have time to let the butter sit out and soften naturally, just cut it into chunks and with an electric mixer, beat it into submission until it's softened.

Sugar is always the second ingredient, because you're whipping the sugars with the butter together until “fluffy”. This is a science, you understand—don't screw around with it. Blend them for a couple of minutes, you're introducing air into the dough.

Eggs are next, and they'll almost always say “one at a time” without ever explaining why. Are you wondering? If you add all the eggs at once, you're going to destroy the mixture of butter and sugar and the teeny tiny air pockets by putting in too much liquidy stuff at the same time.

Add the vanilla extract. I'm pretty sure our palates are conditioned to expect it in all baked goods, but since it makes a world of difference, I'm not one to complain.

Dry ingredients need to be mixed together separately. When you measure flour, don't pack flour into the cup. Scoop it up, overfull, and then level it off with a knife. Mix the flour with the baking soda and salt before you add it to the wet mixture. If you ever make the mistake of adding baking soda before the flour, you risk the chance of having cookies that taste like baking soda. Mix in all the flour, a little bit at a time, before you add the chocolate chips. Yummy cookie dough will be your end product.

Bake time, right? Wrong.

Here's the crucial beauty of it all, here is what is going to save you.

You'll probably be taking a long time to make this cookie dough, because you want to get it right, and you will be unwittingly contributing to your failure. Your room temperature cookie dough is going to be hitting a not-quite-hot-enough oven, and all the butter is going to melt before the cookie can actually undergo the magical process of baking. Which results in a disgusting, spread out, and flat cookie.

Solution: Refrigeration. Stick the cookie dough in the refrigerator for about ten to twenty minutes, so the butter can solidify a bit. This simple action will ensure that they bake the way they're supposed to.

When the oven is preheated, the dough is cold, you've got a cookie sheet out —you're ready to bake.

Scoop up bits of dough with a regular spoon. Of course, you remember consistency is key, right? They should all be roughly the same size, placed two inches apart. Stick the cookie sheet in the oven, keeping it on a middle rack in the oven, not near the bottom or top, and don't overcrowd—if you're cooking in the dorms, especially. The hot air needs to circulate, and an electric oven doesn't do a particularly fantastic job of it, so bake one cookie sheet at a time.

Put the timer on for 10 minutes, return the rest of the dough to the refrigerator. You're going to cook them for 9 to 11 minutes, so you need to check on them at 9, because ovens vary. Always start with the earliest time in a recipe, because you can fix undercooked, but not overcooked.

My mom reiterates one piece of conventional wisdom about chocolate chip cookies over and over again like it's a new idea every time. (People think I have a habit of repeating the same things over and over again? They should hear my parents.)

Anyway, the wisdom is that if you're cooking chocolate chip cookies, and they look done, then they're overdone. Chocolate chip cookies should look like they need a couple more minutes when you take them out. They definitely shouldn't be golden brown.

When you take them out of the oven, leave them on the cookie sheet for two minutes before you attempt to take them off. This allows them to set. When you take them off the cookie sheet, set them on paper towels without stacking. Repeat the process. If you're using the same cookie sheet multiple times, it's going to take less time the next time around, because the cookie sheet is already hot.

I hope that this leads to flawless chocolate chip cookies every time. At least I'd like to think that it's more helpful than the original Nestle Toll House recipe:

“Combine flour, baking soda and salt in small bowl. Beat butter, granulated sugar, brown sugar and vanilla in large mixer bowl. Add eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition; gradually beat in flour mixture. Stir in morsels. Drop by rounded tablespoonfuls onto ungreased baking sheets. Bake in preheated 375-degree oven for 9 to 11 minutes or until golden brown. Let stand for 2 minutes; remove to wire racks to cool completely.”

Yeah, that's what I thought.