Kim Boyce’s Whole Wheat Chocolate Chip Cookies

This post is going to have a few opening caveats.

Firstly, I realize that baking up a batch of chocolate chip cookies goes against the somewhat honest intentions I mentioned earlier about using fresh summer produce and keeping away from the oven. But, at least for this moment, that is neither here nor there. Moving on.

Secondly, I hope you recognize these cookies. They’re from Kim Boyce, and they’ve been endlessly featured on the internet, most notably through my own experience here, here, here, and here. I’m happy to continue that cycle, because as Talley said, this is the type of recipe you have to love and then pass on.

To be honest with you, I’m not one for recipes-made-internet-sensations, and especially when that recipe is for chocolate chip cookies. (That’s a conversation for another post, but let’s just say chocolate chip cookies usually are not for me. Too chocoaltely, too crunchy, too cliche.) But when I had a hankering to have some treats lying around the house last week, I finally decided to give this recipe a try. Because, you know, it’s not like I hadn’t gotten constant reminders from the blog world that I should do just that.

I’m glad I did, and I’m now happy to say that this recipe is what they call a “keeper.” I’ve only ever found one other homemade chocolate chip cookie recipe that I’ve approved of (once again, that’s a conversation for another day), and this one will always be for those days when I want thick, chewy, darker and deeper-flavored chocolate chip cookie to dip in a glass of cold milk. Which, in case anyone is keeping a record, would be just about every other day if I didn’t have a sense of will power. But, because I have portioned-out scoops of the dough in a ziploc-bag in the freezer, I can pretty much have fresh-baked cookies whenever I’d like and do just that anyway.

I will make a quick note that don’t read the “whole wheat” in the title and immediately associate that with “healthy.” These cookies are made like all good ones are: with a good dose of butter, and a good amount of sugar. Yes, the complete use of whole wheat flour here does boost the nutritional profile of the cookies, but I think most of all I like the flavor and texture it brings to the final cookie.

So, if you’ve seen this recipe lingering persistently around the internet, and have hesitated to try it out, this is your reminder! If by some rare and odd chance you haven’t come across this recipe before, here is your first boost of encouragement to get in on this one trend. And if you’ve made them (and consequently loved them, I’m guessing), then congratulate me! I’ve joined the Kim Boyce Whole Wheat Chocolate Chip Cookie fan club, and I’m proud of it.

One Year Ago: Blueberry Crumble Pie

Whole Wheat Chocolate Chip Cookies
Adapted slightly from Kim Boyce’s Good to the Grain
Makes about 18 to 20 big cookies

I changed the process of how these cookies are made, just slightly. Taking a hint from Molly, I decided to go the route of freezing the cookie dough in pre-formed balls first before baking. Because of that, I creamed the butter at room temperature, rather than chilled, since the dough would be chilled first before baking anyway (room tempurature butter is a lot, a lot easier to cream than cold butter). Also, I used chocolate chips, but I really want to try making them with chocolate shards, cut straight from a hunk of chocolate. Go ahead and use what you like, or have on hand. Also! Importantly, let these cookies cool all the way. That’s when the soft and chewy develop.

3 cups whole wheat flour
1 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon kosher salt
2 sticks (16 tablespoons) unsalted butter, at room temperature or slightly softened
1 cup lightly packed dark brown sugar
3/4 cup sugar
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
8 ounces bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, roughly chopped into 1/4- and 1/2-inch pieces, or chips (see note)

Whisk the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt in a medium bowl. Set aside.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream the butter and sugars together until blended and fluffy, about 1 minute. Add eggs one at a time, beating well and scraping the side of the bowl after each addition. Beat in the vanilla. Add the flour mixture, and blend on a low speed until the flour is just incorporated. Do not overmix. Add the chocolate shards or chips, and blend on low speed until mixed, about 15 seconds.

Scoop mounds of the dough roughly 3 tablespoons in size onto a greased or parchment-lined baking sheet, and place in the freezer to chill completely, at least one hour. Once chilled, you can store the portioned-out scoops in a ziploc bag in the freezer and bake off as many as you’d like, whenever you want.

Once ready to bake, preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. Place frozen portions of the dough on the sheet, making sure to leave about 3 inches between each cookie. Bake cookies for 17 to 18 minutes, until the cookies are browned along the edges but still look a little under-cooked and gooey in the middle. Let cookies cool on the baking sheet, until completely cool. Trust me, it’s worth it to wait!

Tabbouleh

Tabbouleh is something I neither understood nor enjoyed not too long ago. In case you haven’t been fully introduced to it yet, it’s a Lebanese salad of parsley, mint, bulgur, tomatoes, and lots of lemon. I’ve always thought of it myself as primarily an exotic salad that, if presented in front of me, was to be appreciated for its cultural and healthful aspects, but not for much else.

After all, it’s a salad made of mostly herbs. Herbs! Things I thought existed in their mildest form to provide the slightest contrast of color on finished dishes, and at their boldest in a pureed pesto. The most prominent herb of tabbouleh, parsley, is especially something I’ve always been on the edge about.

I ended up changing my mind  when I actually got a good taste of it (imagine that!) at the Lebanese restaurant in my college town. I put away my presumptions about it, and tasted it for what it was: a bright and refreshing herbal salad.

David Lebovitz has a pretty great post about tabbouleh, and how most versions show up as a bulgur salad with specks of herbs. More authentic tabbouleh only has speckles of bulgur, not the other way around. And as much as I agree with him (and honestly, who am I to disagree?), I do love a little bit of a bigger bulgur-herb ration than he has featured. I like tasting the chew of the bulgur against the herbs, with the background acid of the lemon and the roundness of the olive oil.

Anyway, this isn’t a recipe to bookmark or to put on some list of dishes to accomplish. It’s something that feels like it should make a consistent appearance all through summer, spooned out onto pita chips, or eaten directly by itself. Or, piled on top of this hummus and then spooned up with warm pita bread. The sharp, lemony tabbouleh cuts straight through the creaminess of the hummus. It is quite the experience, especially in the warm days of summer like the ones we’ve been having.

One Year Ago: Peach Shortcakes

Tabbouleh
Adapted loosely from Lebanese Food & Cooking
Serves 4 to 6 as a side dish

A key to great tabbouleh is thinly sliced parsley leaves that aren’t bruised or mushy, so make sure to use a sharp knife and slice (not chop!) the parsley in tight bunches. Also, I don’t think the lemon zest is traditional, but that’s how the Lebanese restaurant that turned me on to tabbouleh served it. Take big strips of the lemon rind with a vegetable peeler, making sure not to get any bitter white pith, and then chop it as fine as you can. 

1/3 cup fine-grain bulgur
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
juice of 2 lemons
1 heaping teaspoon lemon rind (only the yellow part), finely chopped
2-3 tomatoes, diced
2 large bunches flat-leaf parsley, stems mostly removed and leaves finely sliced (see note)
large handful mint, leaves finely sliced
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
freshly ground black pepper

In a heatproof bowl, pour 2/3 cup boiling water over the bulgur and cover tightly with plastic wrap. Set aside for 15 minutes. Drain any excess liquid, and transfer bulgur to a large bowl. Add olive oil and the lemon juice and zest and toss to combine. Add the thinly sliced parsley, mint, diced tomatoes, and the 1/2 teaspoon of salt and toss to combine. Taste for salt and pepper. Serve immediately, before the herbs wilt.

Cherry-Almond Biscotti

Try as I might, when each summer rolls around and I tell myself I’ll only do bare-minimum-cooking with fresh food and will strictly avoid using the oven (especially when it involves my coveted refined white sugar), I don’t exactly follow through.

The fact that I can’t keep away from the oven and sweets isn’t exactly a surprise, but that doesn’t stop me from hoping that each summer I’ll be a little different. One has to hope!

I know I’ve already transgressed those limits so far this summer multiple times, what with that grain-free chocolate cake I made for the Fourth of July, or that pistachio baklava, or the flourless chocolate torte. And let’s be honest with oursleves, the non-oven-and-sweet food I’ve been making hasn’t exactly been utilizing summer’s generous offers of fruits and vegetables.

So did I feel a little guilt for whirring up the oven to bake up cookies on a bright and sunny day last week? You bet I did! And yet, after I had a big batch of biscotti, ready to be dipped in coffee or tea for breakfast (like normal people such as my family) or dipped in milk at night before bed (like me and ten-year-olds), it didn’t feel so wrong anymore. After all, biscotti aren’t the type of ooey-gooey cookies that you want to indulge in fresh out of the oven; they’re not even the type of cookie you want to eat while still warm at all. And, alas, we all need some form of carb-y treats to enjoy in the summertime, don’t we?

I’ll save you my shpeel about the specifics of what I think the ideal type of biscotti is, seeing as I wrote a lengthy post on it about a year ago. I will quickly note, though, that even if I’m not an authority on Italian baking, I do know that biscotti shouldn’t be floury and dry. This recipe (simply an adaption of the one I loved and posted on a year ago) is able to provide a hard, crunchy texture that withstands crumbling when dipped in coffee, but still secures the kind of moistness that I think all cookies, to some extent, need.

I glazed some of the biscotti with white chocolate on one side, which I didn’t get a chance to capture with my camera. I don’t particularly like white chocolate (and neither does my family), but Waylon told me that he loved chocolate-dipped biscotti because he likes the way the chocolate melts and swirls in his coffee during his breakfast. Even though I still don’t think I’d enjoy the white chocolate part, that certainly does sound lovely, doesn’t it? So feel free to dip and glaze these cookies to your heart’s content.

And with that, I unabashedly leave you by advising you to spite the sun that’s been shining and bake up a batch of these biscotti cookies.

One Year Ago: Roasted Chickpeas

Cherry-Almond Biscotti
Adapted from Karen DeMasco, via my post on Pistachio-Cherry Biscotti
Makes about 25-30 cookies

2 cups unbleached, all-purpose flour
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup old-fashioned rolled oats
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
3 large eggs
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 teaspoons lemon zest
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon almond extract
3/4 cup dried cherries
2/3 cup unsalted, untoasted almonds, roughly chopped

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F and position a rack in the center. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper.

Whisk together the eggs, olive oil, lemon zest, vanilla extract and almond extract in a medium bowl. Set aside. Meanwhile, combine the flour, sugar, oats, baking powder, baking soda, and salt in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment until mixed. Add in the egg mixture and mix on medium speed until combined, about 20 seconds. Fold in cherries and almonds until combined.

Transfer dough to a clean work surface; divide in half. Shape each dough half into logs 12-14 inches long and 2-3 inches wide. If the dough is wet, use floured hands to shape the logs. Transfer logs onto the lined baking sheet; reshape and fix anything if necessary. Bake in the preheated oven, rotating the sheet halfway through, until browned and set, about 25 to 30 minutes. Transfer to a rack and let cool for about 15 minutes. Meanwhile, reduce the oven temperature to 250 degrees F.

Transfer biscotti to a work surface. Using a serrated knife, cut each strip on the diagonal (to create longer biscotti), and about 1/2 inch thick. Arrange the slices, cut side down, on the baking sheet, and bake in the adjusted oven until crisp, about 30 to 40 minutes. Transfer to wire racks to cool completely. Store any cookies in an air-tight container for up to a week.

Roasted Pepper, Prosciutto and Goat Cheese Tart

I got it in my head awhile ago that the food from the Provencal region of France was the best in the world. It had the qualities of both of my favorite cuisines (French and Italian, of course): the focus on fresh, simple ingredients of the Mediterranean like the Italians, but with the refinement and technique of still being able to produce a beautiful pate brisee or a creme anglais of the French. Since then, whenever I see a Provencal-esque recipe, I take note of it.

This recipe was one of those times. I don’t think this exactly qualifies as Provencal, because it doesn’t have most of its obvious and signatory ingredients (olives, capers, eggplant, tomatoes, anchovies). Yet the whole thing just seemed to fit for me: with flavors of sweet roasted bell peppers and caramelized onions, fresh herbs of thyme and basil, salty bites of proscuitto, and all contrasted against tangy goat cheese. After being suspended between some cream and eggs and in a flaky tart shell, the whole thing bakes up to be a delicious, creamy, salty-sweet snack or light meal any time of the day.

I baked up two of these tarts—one for my parents to take with them on a mini-camping trip to share with their friends, and another for my family to enjoy at home over the next few days (as in, everyone takes a few slivers for a day or two until my dad just commits to the entire last third of it for lunch). I sadly don’t have a tart pan, so I baked up on in a pie pan, and another in an over-sized, ceramic tart-ish dish thing.

Although the whole process of making the tarts took up a pretty good chunk of time, almost everything about them can be made ahead of time, or over the period of a few days, and then assembled and baked the day you’re planning to serve it. Get the tart dough made and in the fridge to chill; roast the peppers and set aside; caramelize the onions and set aside—you get the picture.

The extended time it takes to prepare the components is a testament to the quality of the final dish, though: the flavors are complex and rich, while tasting rustic, simple, and laid-back at the same time. Although I love the combination of flavors showcased here, I think the recipe is almost asking to have some variations and adaptions thrown at it. I’m not the most adept or confident in boldly changing up the recipe; however, if you try out something new, let me know. Especially if that variation causes the tart to only fall further under my qualifications as “Provencal,” of course.

One Year Ago: Chicken Empanadas with Chorizo and Green Olives

Roasted Pepper, Proscuitto and Goat Cheese Tart
From Fine Cooking May 2008, via use real butter
Serves 6 to 8

1 baked and cooled tart shell, recipe below

3 medium red, orange or yellow bell peppers
2 tbsps extra-virgin olive oil
1 medium yellow onion, thinly sliced
1 tbsp fresh thyme, coarsely chopped
kosher salt
freshly ground black pepper
2/3 cup heavy cream
2 eggs
3 thin slices prosciutto, cut into thin strips
6 large basil leaves, chopped (about 2 tablespoons tightly packed)
1/3 cup crumbled goat cheese

First, roast the bell peppers. Heat the oven to 400 degrees F and have a rack positioned in the center. Place the bell peppers on an aluminum-lined baking sheet, and place in the preheated oven. Turn the peppers about every 15 minutes, as they wrinkle and blacken. Roast for 45 to 60 minutes, until the majority of the skin has blackened and the peppers have started to look like they’re falling apart a little bit. Remove from the oven, place in a large glass bowl, and cover the bowl tightly with plastic wrap. This will allow the peppers to sweat and separate from their charred skin easier. Once cool enough to handle, the skin should pull off easily from the peppers. Peel, core, and de-seed the peppers, and then slice them into thin strips about 1/2 inch in width. Set aside.

Next, caramelize the onions. Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Stirring often, saute the onions, about a 1/2 teaspoon of kosher salt, a good pinch of the black pepper, and half of the thyme together until the onions become golden brown, soft and translucent, about 15 minutes. Remove from heat and let cool.

When ready to assemble the tart and the filling, preheat the oven to 375 degrees F and have a rack centered din the middle position.

In a small bowl, whisk together the heavy cream and eggs together. Season with a heavy pinch of salt and a dusting of black pepper. Set aside. In a large bowl, combine the roasted peppers (discarding any liquid that has accumulated as the peppers have rested), caramelized onions, the remaining half of the thyme, sliced prosciutto, and chopped basil until well mixed and evenly distributed.

Fill the baked and cooled tart shell (still in its pan) with the roasted pepper mixture and spread evenly. Sprinkle the crumbled goat cheese over the filling, and then pour in the egg and cream mixture until the tart is full. Bake in the preheated oven for about 30 minutes, until the custard is set and the top is evenly golden brown. Cool on a wire rack and serve at warm or room temperature.

Tart Shell, or Pate Sucree
Adapted from Martha Stewart
Makes one 9 or 10-inch single crust tart

2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, cold and cut into little pieces
1 large egg yolk, beaten
3-4 tablespoons cold water

In the bowl of a food processor, pulse flour and salt together until well combined. Add cold butter pieces, and pulse until the mixture resembles what is often referred to as “coarse sand,” about 8 pulses. Add the egg yolk, and pulse until combined, about 3 to 4 pulses. Adding one tablespoon of cold water at a time with the machine running, pulse until the mixture just starts to hold together without being wet or sticky; the dough should still look crumbly but will hold together when pinched between two fingers.

Invert the contents on to a clean work surface and press together into a disk. Wrap the disk in plastic wrap and chill for at least one hour, or up to overnight. (Note: if chilling overnight, the dough will need 15 to 20 minutes to defrost on the counter at room temperature before being rolled out.)

When ready to use, roll the cold dough into a round circle on a lightly floured surface until about 12 to 13 in diameter. Line the 9 or 10-inch tart pan with the dough without stretching it, and press it gently into shape. Trim excess dough from the pan by running a rolling pin over the top of the tart. Chill in the freezer for 30 minutes (to prevent the dough from shrinking when baking).

Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 375 degrees with a rack centered in the middle position. Once chilled and ready to bake, line the tart dough with aluminum foil and and weigh down with pie weights or dried beans. Bake for about 25 to 30 minutes, until the dough looks light and golden. Remove the foil and pie weights and continue to bake the tart shell for another 10 minutes, or until it is completely golden. Cool completely, making sure to press down any domed bubbles that appeared in the crust while baking.