Somedays I wonder if I am losing my mind (on any given day this might be considered a blessing, a curse, or my salvation) and then there are the days I think I am going blind (is it just me or is the print get smaller and smaller in some cookbooks and cooking magazines?). I usually keep these relatively infrequent hypochondriatic moments to myself, yet take perverse pleasure in knowing I am not the only one among my friends wondering some of the same things. Both of these two 'fears' of mine reared their not-too-pretty heads this week. After spending a ridiculous amount of time trying to find what I am looking for I have been known to resort to saying the St. Anthony prayer hoping for divine intervention in the resurfacing of the 'lost' something (or rather the thing I can't remember where I put it). Don't laugh or throw shade, because more times than not it has actually worked (miraculously).
While searching for my copy of Joanne Chang's cookbook Flour, I came across a stack of books I (initially) couldn't remember buying. 'Take a deep breath' I told myself. My initial anxiety was replaced with a bit of giddiness as I discovered I owned a first edition of Diana Gabaldon's book Outlander. Without the (wasteful) use of a prayer, my memory for these purchases came back to me. Ultimately I found the cookbook (had to use a prayer), I set off making her coconut cookie recipe. After the batter was placed in the refrigerator I started typing up the list of ingredients for the blog. It was then I realized I had misread the amount of not one, but two of the ingredients. Ugh. Blaming it on the small print (rather than admit to any blindness), I kept my fingers crossed hoping my unintentional 'errors' weren't going to be deal breakers and ruin an entire batch of cookies. Or worse, they wouldn't come out 'perfect'. But more on that later.
When I lived out east there was a grocery store I frequented in Westport (MA). Their wine department, bakery, availability of hard to find gourmet items, and meat department made it worth the 40 minute round trip drive. Besides their freshly baked bread I sometimes bought a package of their homemade coconut cookies. Studded with coconut, pecans and chocolate chips they were addictive. I had been looking for a cookie with a taste as close to that one as possible ever since I had returned back to the midwest. Then a couple of years ago I discovered one I thought had 'potential'. This one in the form of a recipe in the Flour cookbook. Yet, for some unknown reason I never made them, but suddenly found myself having a craving for them. Would they, could they be as good as or better than the ones I was missing? More on that to come.
I love the taste, texture and flavor of coconut. The first time I had coconut ice cream was visiting a good friend in South Carolina. In a word, it was 'wicked'. Shame on her though for introducing me to a such an amazing coconut ice cream only available locally. I finally satisfied my craving for that ice cream after discovering a coconut ice cream out east 'closely' resembling that one. I may have moments of feeling as if I have temporarily lost my mind but I am sane enough to know it would be silly to make a 19 hour drive away to buy coconut ice cream. As I have yet to find a coconut ice cream here any where near comparable to either of them, I have no other choice than to make some cookies to satisfy my coconut craving.
When you look at the list of ingredients, your first thought might be 'these are nothing more than Cowboy Cookies'. While these Chunky Coconut Chocolate Pecan Cookies share many of the ingredients as some of the Cowboy Cookie recipes out there, they look and taste differently. Joanne Chang called her version of these cookies Chunky Lola Cookies (a naming contest resulted in a free trip to the Bahamas for the winner).
Some of the critical takeaways from making these cookies include the following: (1) creaming the butter and sugars for almost a full five minutes, (2) toasting the pecans, (3) using chunks of both semi-sweet and white chocolate (I don't think I will ever use chocolate 'chips' again), (4) using a 1/4 cup ice cream scoop to form the cookies, (5) removing from oven when edges are browned and centers still soft even though you think they aren't done, (6) chilling the dough overnight, and last but not least (7) using the full 1 1/2 cups of both all-purpose flour and chopped pecans.
The misreading of the amount of all-purpose flour and pecans turned out to be a blessing in disguise. I provided the recipes original ingredient amounts in the recipe below, just in case you want them.
The addition of chopped white chocolate was an after-thought (although I thought of it before refrigerating the cookie dough). This bought the total of chocolate in these cookies to 11 versus 9 ounces. More was definitely better.
So were they as good as the cookies from the grocery store bakery? The simple answer to that question is 'yes, maybe better'. The only thing making them even better would be to turn them into ice cream sandwiches with some of that South Carolina or east coast coconut ice cream. But that isn't happening (deep sigh).
With a glass of milk, one cookie is completely satisfying. They are thick, crispy on the edges, chewy in the center, large oh-so delicious cookies. Bigger was definitely better here. If you don't have a 1/4 cup ice cream scoop, using a measuring cup. And if you want more than 18 bakery large, perfect Chunky Coconut Chocolate Pecan Cookies, make two batches. Just don't try to make them smaller. They won't be the same.
Chunky Coconut Chocolate Pecan Cookies (a slight adaptation to Joanne Chang's Chunky Lola Cookies as shared in her cookbook Flour: Spectacular Recipes from Boston's Flour Bakery and Cafe)
Makes approximately 18 cookies
Ingredients
11 Tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature
2/3 cup granulated sugar
2/3 cup light brown sugar
2 large eggs, room temperature
1 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour (original recipe calls for 1 1/4 cups of flour)
2/3 cup old-fashioned rolled oats (not instant or quick cooking)
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
9 ounces bittersweet chocolate (62-70 percent cacao), chopped into 1/2 inch pieces
2 ounces white chocolate, chopped into chunks
1 1/2 cups pecans, toasted and chopped (original recipe calls for 1 1/4 cups of pecans)
1 cup sweetened shredded coconut
Directions
1. In stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, cream butter for approximately 20 seconds. Add granulated sugar and light brown sugar. On medium speed cream butter/sugars for approximately 5 minutes (or until light and fluffy). Stop the mixer several times and scrape sides and bottom of the bowl with a rubber spatula to release any clinging/chunks of butter or sugar. Do not skip this step. Note: If using a hand mixer this could take approximately 10 minutes.
2. Beat in eggs and vanilla on medium speed for 2-3 minutes or until thoroughly combined. Scrape bowl again to make certain eggs are thoroughly incorporated.
3. In a medium bowl, stir together flour, oats, baking soda and salt. Add chocolate, pecans and coconut, tossing until combined.
4. On low speed or using a wooden spoon, slowly add the flour mixture to the butter/sugar mixture. Mix until just combined and the dough is evenly mixed.
5. Scrape the mixture into a bowl, cover tightly and rest in the refrigerator overnight (or at least 4 hours) before baking.
6. Preheat oven to 350 degrees (F). Position rack in the center of the oven. Line baking sheets with parchment paper.
7. Using a 1/4 cup ice cream scooper, place dough on prepared baking sheets, spacing approximately two inches apart. Flatten each ball slightly with the palm of your hand.
8. Bake for 19-22 minutes or until cookies are golden brown on the edges and slightly soft in the center. Let cookies cool on baking sheet for 15-20 minutes or until cool enough to remove with a spatula. Transfer cookies to a wire rack to cool completely or eat while still slightly warm.
Note: Cookies can be stored in an airtight container for up to 2 days or in the refrigerator for up to 4 days.
A cluster of birch trees in color and in black/white.
