Soft and cinnamon-coated, snickerdoodle cookies are wonderful for filling the cookie jar. They’re also good for dunking in milk.
Twenty years ago, I’d just moved to Manhattan for college. It was the only place I’d wanted to go, and the only college experience I’d imagined. My days were a mishmash of classes, studying, long walks on city streets, shopping, reading and dreaming.
Oh, I had so many dreams.
I was living on the Upper West Side in an apartment-style dorm with four roommates. Big windows let in so much light during the day, and fueled more of those dreams with their amazing views at night, gazing south. Some nights, I’d stand in those windows, admiring the twinkling lights and imaging the future. Visions of a writing career, a spacious Manhattan apartment, a glamorous life that was part Friends, part Sex and the City.
When my roommates were all out and I had the place to myself, sometimes I’d even pretend our apartment was mine alone.
I remember that version of me: young, idealistic, unrealistic and unconcerned. And two decades later, I am proud of the parts of my 18-year-old dream that came to life. The writing career, the spacious apartment, the indulgence of my love of travel.
At 18, I didn’t think I would have children. Hell, I didn’t think I’d ever leave New York.
But I did. And I did.
While the 18-year-old version of me didn’t see a life beyond the steel and steam and concrete of Manhattan or one with the responsibility of children, had I not drifted from those dreams I wouldn’t be here now. And here is a pretty awesome place and time.
It’s here, in the reality of my adult life, that I have a 10-year-old daughter who loves to cook too. Paige has, in particular, fallen in love with baking. A week at a cooking summer camp helped her kitchen skills blossom, so she can now follow recipes with minimal assistance.
But even when she’s baking and I am cooking, coexisting in the kitchen together is a wonderful bonding time. I love seeing her at work and appreciate the sweets of her labor.
Lately, I’ve let her bake several different cookies, helping to keep our cookie jar full. Including these snickerdoodles.
But let’s pause for a second on this cookie jar. It’s a minimalistic, white, simple cookie jar that I saw online and needed. It reminded me of what my 18-year-old self thought my adult home would look like. In my kitchen now, it feels like a bridge between that younger me and my current me.
Now, back to the snickerdoodle cookies recipe.
Snickerdoodle cookies have a lot in common with sugar cookies, ingredients wise. There’s butter, sugar, eggs, flourBut the addition of cream of tartar ensures that the texture of the cookie is chewy and that the flavor has a slight tanginess to it. And, of course, these are finished off with a roll in a cinnamon sugar mixture.
That makes them extra special.
These cookies, with the crust of cinnamon and sugar, are excellent for dunking in milk.
- 1 cup unsalted butter, , softened to room temperature
- 1 1/2 cups packed light brown sugar
- 2 large eggs
- 2 2/3 cups all purpose flour
- 1 tsp baking soda
- 1/4 tsp kosher salt
- 2 tsp cream of tartar
- 1/4 cup granulated sugar
- 1 tbsp ground cinnamon
- Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.
- Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper.
- In the bowl of a stand mixer, cream together the butter and brown sugar using the paddle attachment until well-combined, light and fluffy. Add the eggs and beat until combined.
- In a separate medium-sized bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, salt and cream of tartar. With the stand mixer set to the lowest speed, slowly add the flour mixture to the butter mixture until just combined.
- In a separate bowl, stir together the granulated sugar and cinnamon. Use a medium cookie scoop to scoop out cookie dough and drop into the cinnamon sugar mixture. Roll it around to coat all sides and then place on the baking sheet. Cookies should be about 2 inches apart.
- Bake in the center of the oven for 12-16 minutes, until golden on the edges. Let cool for one minute before transferring to a wire cooling rack. Store in an airtight container.