Oatmeal Cookies
Updated Dec. 6, 2022
- Total Time
- 35 minutes
- Rating
- Comments
- Read comments
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Ingredients
- 1½cups (¾ pound) unsalted butter
- 1cup granulated sugar
- 1teaspoon vanilla extract
- 2teaspoons sifted baking soda
- 2¾cups Quaker's old-fashioned oatmeal
- 2⅔cups all-purpose flour
- 1½cups raisins
Preparation
- Step 1
Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
- Step 2
Butter a cookie sheet and line with baker's parchment.
- Step 3
Cream butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Stir in vanilla, Add sifted baking soda amd stir in. Add oatmeal, flour and raisins and stir in thoroughly. Mix well.
- Step 4
Using your hands, form dough into balls, each just a little larger than a walnut. Place them about one inch apart on parchmentlined cookie sheet.
- Step 5
Bake 20 to 25 minutes or until pale golden brown.
- Step 6
Remove from paper and cool on rack. Although delicious when warm, these are really meant to be eaten cold.
- Step 7
When cookies have cooled completely, pack in airtight containers.
Private Notes
Comments
This is a big 'no'. Pale, not golden. Too much flour. Too chalky and while they held their form they all apart when you take a bite. I am looking for sweet, chewy, golden, sticky...oatmeal cookie. Not this.
So, I wanted a sort of shortbread sandie and I thought I could make this into what I hoped for. But Mimi Sheraton is a cookie goddess and it isn't good to mess with the work of a goddess. I used part WW flour, added a bit of wheat germ and some walnuts. The first sheet of cookies fell apart. All was well like most things in life with the addition of more butter.
OMG! I will never neglect to read the comments again before using a recipe in here! Holy cow! Worst cookies ever! Could there be a miaaing ingredient in the directions - like eggs or milk? There is only 1 liquid to this recipe, the vanilla extract. What is supposed to hold things together?
I would like to add a silver lining of sorts: this batter is great raw and no fear of raw egg! Yippie!!
I approached this recipe with the hopeful innocence of someone who still believes a cookie can be a small, brown miracle: butter, sugar, warmth, solace. What emerged from my oven, however, was less “cookie” and more an edible riddle—an artifact of ambition unaccompanied by pleasure. The aroma promised comfort. The first bite delivered confusion. The texture wandered aimlessly between dry and oddly slack, as though it couldn’t decide whether to crumble, chew, or apologize. The flavor landed with all the charm of polite cardboard: sweet in theory, hauntingly absent in practice. If this cookie had a personality, it would be a firm handshake in a windowless room. My friends—dear people, generous spirits—were strangely willing to entertain the notion that this was “fine,” which tells me only that they possess the kind of untroubled palate that can survive airport pastries and still call it dessert. Bless them. But refinement is a learned language, and these cookies spoke none of it. I am left with two explanations: either the recipe is missing a crucial ingredient (eggs? joy?), or it is simply, fundamentally, irredeemably flawed. In either case, I cannot recommend it in good conscience. Life is short; butter is expensive; ovens deserve better. Bake literally anything else.
Terrible recipe — clearly never kitchen tested.
