Amanda Miller
Columnist
Lettuce Eat Local
Those little fingers flit over the counter again, sneaking another pinch of dough. “I thought you said only one more taste?” I ask Benson, giving him a look of mixed exasperation, amusement, and perplexity.
He does this with any dough, from cookie to bread to pie crust. While I enjoy tasting things at almost any step in the cooking process, I’m usually done after a single sample of most raw doughs, unless I’m still tweaking them. They’re fine, but they’ll be so much better baked, so I might as well wait.
My son, however, clearly didn’t inherit only his daddy’s good looks and love of farming, but also his affinity for unbaked flour-based products.
Now, before we get any farther, I know there are health concerns for consuming raw eggs, and actually raw flour is even potentially more dangerous. We use our hens’ eggs, so they are very fresh and have more of the natural protective coating of the shell, so I’m not worried about a little bit here and there. We also only use wheat from our field or from local Hudson Cream, which doesn’t take away all risks, but somehow makes me feel better. So hear me out that I know there is danger of bacterial infections, and I’m not being flippant with my family’s health; but at some point, anything is dangerous and we can’t/shouldn’t recoil from everything. Simply living on a farm like we do puts us in potential peril every day.
On that cheerful note, back to the dough. It really doesn’t much matter what it is, but Benson likes it. He’s usually helping me mix it, so he’s all up in the tactile experience already. There is something peculiarly attractive about stretchy, glutinous bread dough, especially when it’s our favorite brown-sugar oatmeal; and of course a little smackerel of prebaked scone or heavily-flavored biscuit dough works. But plain biscuits or pastry crust are too meh for me, and cookie dough is the opposite too much for me.
Almost hypocrisy, I know, but I just don’t do raw cookie dough. Too sweet, too rich, it cloys in my mouth and turns my stomach a little; in fact, cookie dough is even one of the very few ice cream flavors I truly do not like. Brian, on the other hand, has to hide how large of a scoop of dough he pilfers if he happens across us in the process, or his son will never be satisfied with the paltry amounts his stingy mother allows.
This appreciation for the unbaked also extends to the underbaked, at least for Brian — a little “claggy” is a good thing. (If it has sugar in it, Benson will eat it no matter the bake.) I like to know the different internal temperatures to bring baked goods to, realizing there is science behind the numbers, but if I’m just baking for us, research proves my husband will enjoy it more if I slightly undercut the temp. If there’s a question, always err on the side of underbaked.
That is, if I have enough dough left to even bake at all.
Unbaked Cookie Dough
Yes, we know regular cookie dough is unbaked, but this one is actually meant to stay that way. This version doesn’t require a mixer, just a bowl and a spoon, plus it has some redeeming healthful qualities. Did Brian think it was as good as actual cookie dough? To be honest, no, but he liked this one better than the one I tried with cannellini beans, so there’s that. I, however, liked it much better, and I’m the one who actually eats snacks.
Prep tips: this is good right away (yay for instant “cookies”!), but I prefer it fully chilled. You can dollop it out in cookie-scoop portions, or just leave it in a bowl and snatch a little every time you open the fridge…I’ve heard that works pretty well.
2 cups almond flour
½ cup quick oats
2-4 tablespoons local honey, to taste
2 tablespoons melted coconut oil or butter
1 tablespoon of milk, or as needed
½ teaspoon salt
a good splash vanilla
2 oz chopped dark chocolate
Melt oil or butter in a glass bowl, then stir in remaining ingredients. Eat.
