White Chocolate Raspberry Cookies

Do you have a recipe you have made for years and everyone likes it and even expects it to appear annually? For me, that would be this cookie. This White Chocolate Raspberry Cookie that has been baked by myself since 1995.

It is not only beautiful, it is also  delicious.

A combination of white chocolate that finds itself not only in the form of chunks in the cookie as well as drizzled on top, it is actually melted into the batter, providing the smooth, sweet texture of a regular cookie the extra flavor boost to take it next level.

Then there is the addition of a perfect ruby of seedless raspberry preserves in the middle. It is a decadent cookie. It is a break it in to steps cookie, but it is worth it.

I think the part of this cookie that is interesting is that it can be broken down into steps. Make the dough and either form into logs to slice (later) or roll into balls to refrigerate. They can stay in the refrigerator for a few days, well wrapped.

Then bake. Again, put them in an air tight container and you can walk away. Then, right before you are ready to assemble cookie tray or deliver, top with the raspberry and white chocolate drizzle. They are the queen of the cookie tray.

And now the heart of the matter: They are not my favorite cookie. I almost didn’t make them this year. 

 

What? What kind of sales pitch is this? It isn’t.

I love these cookies. They are just the perfect combination of flavor and tenderness, I make them smaller on purpose because of the sweetness, and they are so so pretty.

 

I think, like a great dog or a long time friend, they hold the comfort of the familiar. I make them every year. It is a constant. It is respected and I treat it with the same level of love my other cookies get. The pride is still there when they turn out the way they should.

They are not the sea salt caramel I have been bubbly over, they are not the new and shiny. They are the old and shiny. The cookie I am expected to make because they are my cookie.

With a blog I want everything to be new and exciting. However, these are my been doing it forever and not exciting. But that’s me. We’ve been in this baking game together for two decades now, this me and this cookie.

Now you, if you have never had one, or even if you have, you will have butterflies. Trust me, you’ll love them.

Funny thing is, I am not a recipe hoarder. I had no idea people wanted to know how to make these. I don’t remember anyone asking for the recipe…But I am HAPPY to share it. Actually, the recipe comes from my Better Homes and Garden Cookbook. One of the oldest cookbooks in my pantry. It opens to this recipe because it’s one of those recipes. The kind where the book has the splatter and water wear…you know what I mean.

The secret to these cookies is cooking at a low temperature. It is white chocolate and butter friends, both brown easily. Nobody wants a hard brown bottom cookie. Nobody. So you have to watch. One batch will be ready in eleven minutes, the next time you make these they can be ready in ten or twelve. Bake on parchment or silpat lined cookie sheet. Bake at 325*.

A double batch of this recipe can yield  four dozen smaller cookies. You want to keep them on the smaller side because they have a cookie/confection like quality. It’s the white chocolate that makes it so.

Also, the dough can seem like it isn’t what it should be, but it will be, trust and have faith. The combination of butter and white melted chocolate give the dough an almost drier consistency when you are rolling the balls or into logs to slice (when I slice them, I make them 1/4″ thick…I don’t use a ruler for this). They will get into the oven and suddenly transform to white, soft, buttery velvet cookies.

Maybe the stress on my relationship with this cookie is because I want them to be the perfect cookie every time. People expect it. I expect it. Which is why they almost didn’t get made this year. What if the batter decides to look dry again? What if the bottoms are brown? What if the drizzle looks like ploopy white globs of goo? (It’s happened). What if I melt the chocolate wrong and it burns and that smell…oh that smell… See? A million things could go wrong.

A million things don’t go wrong. And if they did, it’s cookies. It isn’t life altering.

I have a phrase I use A LOT. “Is it fixable?” Is it? If it is, then fix it. If it isn’t, then solve it or start over.

I use this phrase with my own children: Spills? Scratched the car’s paint (but didn’t get hurt)? Said the wrong thing (and need to apologize)?

I use this at school: Wrote something incorrectly? Read something that didn’t make sense? Need to pick things up that tipped over accidentally?

I use this for myself: Long day? Stressed? Too many things to do on the list? Can’t be the perfect (fill in the blank here my titles range all over the place)?

If we can’t fix it, it’s a problem. If we can fix it, then there is a path to take. Some things can’t be fixed. Like when cookies don’t turn out like the picture, or you can’t go back and redo a situation the right way. So you do your best to make it better, or toss the crappy cookies out and start over. It’s butter and sugar people. Let’s not be worried about the small stuff.

Which is why, in the end, these beautiful cookies are on my cookie tray for Christmas. Or, in this case were, and you can make them before the new year or for Valentines Day, because they have hearts and love all over them.

This blog, and it’s author will and are going to be streamlining and lightening up. Literally. But for the next nine recipes or so, we are packing in the sugar and the sweetness because there is a time in life for sweetness.

There is a time for softness, and kindness, and beautiful. So we make the cookie that people want. Because when you hand over these cookies to someone who loves them, it makes you feel like a better human being. We need more of that in our world. People who feel like they can fix and be better human beings. Including myself.

I hope you enjoy this recipe, and as always, thank you for coming to the table!

Chrissy

Click below for a printable recipe.

 

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