The oatmeal cookie is a blank canvas for creative cooks, with its dough stiff enough to hold a whole mess of goodness. I’ve tossed in dried cranberries, toasted nuts, shredded coconut, sunflower seeds and fistfuls of M&Ms.; And while I don’t follow a recipe and can’t recreate my cookies (which is a point of regret when the combination is particularly tasty), I cling to one cardinal rule and it must not be broken: never add raisins for then you’ve sinned, creating a morally corrupt cookie that promises chocolate, yet delivers shriveled fruit.
Given my slipshod approach to this kitchen sink cookie, I’ve held it in rather low esteem — at least I did until a recent visit to Sup (pronounced soup), a tiny restaurant in downtown Reno that serves an oatmeal cookie with every meal. I was nibbling my cookie, trying to unlock its secret when a waitress leaned over my empty soup bowl and whispered that it was really quite simple: Follow Quaker’s vanishing oatmeal raisin cookie and replace the raisins with 1 bag of bittersweet chocolate chips, 1 bag of peanut butter chips and 1 bag of toffee chips.
“That’s it?” I asked, incredulously. Within a week, a special trip was made to the grocery store and these delightful cookies were duplicated.
Do you really mean one beg each of chocolate chips, peanut butter chips and toffee chips? Wow, that would be more than all the other ingredients combined! No wonder they are so good.
I meant BAG, not beg, of course. Oh brother.
Yep, one bag of each, and don’t even think about counting the calories!
[…] whole thing. But for a birthday I will ignore my own dessert palate of  chocolate chip cookies, chocolate chip cookies, and chocolate chip cookies, and work hard to satisfy the expectant tongues of […]