VIEW SLIDESHOW: Top 10 Cookies from Cookie Monster, Year 2

[Photographs: Carrie Vasios]

Last year, for the first anniversary of the Cookie Monster column, I chose ten of the most delicious cookies I made that year. There was toffee. There were vanilla beans. There was espresso butter cream and caramel and it was good.

Would there, could there be 10 cookies during year two that equally stole my heart? Yep. And here they are.

Go Straight to the Cookies

Salted Cashew Caramel Bars
Olive Oil Pistachio Biscotti
Best Blueberry Cookies
Blackberry Bars
Chocolate Chocolate Chip Cookies
Raw Honey Date Sesame Balls
Banana Oatmeal Cookies with Peanut Butter and Chocolate Chips
Cranberry Linzer Cookies
Hello Dolly Bars
Espresso Meringues

[Photograph: Carrie Vasios]

I first started baking on my own—no mom, no grandma for supervision—in middle school. I made things mostly from a mix of the soon-tattered Moosewood Cookbook that my mother bought when I insisted on becoming a vegetarian, a spiral-bound Fat Free Cooking! cookbook that we had because it was the early 90s, and a stack of old Gourmet magazines. I was a mix of precocious (from-scratch sticky buns for my 7th grade homeroom? Sure!) and old-school; for the longest time I refused to use an electric mixer.

Yup, I made every baked good using a mix of arm power, whisks, wooden spoons, and pastry cutters. It took me forever, but it wasn't the point. Or so I guess—I don't quite remember why I chose this route but I do know that I've maintained a strange annoyance at any recipe that makes me break out the mixer, which is ironic given that includes 90% of recipes that I make now.

Lucky there are recipes like this one. Traditional Italian biscotti don't include butter, which means that you can easily whip eggs and sugar into their proper creamy, lightened state using a hand whisk. I added a good 1/2 cup of pine nuts to the basic recipe, with some lemon zest and lemon juice to counteract their richness. As a result, these biscotti are a mix of sweet, crunchy, rich, and palate-perking.

I make these biscotti in two sizes: what I like to call American (i.e. the 4-inchers you see in the photo) and a more petite and "Italian" version that's just two inches or so high. The latter are especially nice when included in a cookie plate or tied up in individual cellophane bags as a party favor.

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Lemon Pine Nut Biscotti »

About the author: Carrie Vasios is the editor of Serious Eats: Sweets. She likes to peruse her large collection of cookbooks while eating jam from the jar. You can follow her on Twitter @carrievasios

[Photograph: Carrie Vasios]

When it comes to dessert, I have two "secret ingredients"; two things that I'll sneak into baked goods to make them taste better. The first is instant espresso, which makes anything chocolatey taste even more so. The second is toffee, which is one of my favorite candies and pairs well with fruit, chocolate, cake, cookies—almost anything. It adds a surprising depth of flavor and is even better with a hint of salt.

Strangely, I'd never thought to combine the two in one place. Well, problem solved. I made these drop cookies, which rely on the one-two punch of toffee bits and instant espresso to combine caramel-y sweetness with just enough counteracting bitterness. I used Heath Bits 'O Brickle Toffee Bits which are very tiny pieces of soft "toffee." Typically I prefer hard toffee (like in my go-to toffee cookies) but here the tiny bits create a nice, almost-smooth texture to the cookies, which are just a little chewy. If you can't find the Bits, you can replace them with either a crushed Heath or Skor Bar (if you don't mind adding chocolate to your cookies) or even butterscotch chips. Either way, I'd suggest chopping the replacement toffee finely to keep the cookies from having a chunky texture.

As for the espresso, I used Medaglia D'oro Instant Espresso, which can be found in some supermarkets or online. Whatever your preferred brand, I really recommend keeping some instant espresso in your pantry. If you're like me you'll start using it with abandon—and your life will be all the better for it.

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Toffee Espresso Drop Cookies »

About the author: Carrie Vasios is the editor of Serious Eats: Sweets. She likes to peruse her large collection of cookbooks while eating jam from the jar. You can follow her on Twitter @carrievasios

[Photograph: Carrie Vasios]

I think it's pretty cool how much linguistic variation exists across this large country of ours. Of course, I assume that the way I say things is the right way, while others are using cute regional dialects. Doesn't it just make sense to wait on line, drink soda, find things addictive, eat submarine sandwiches, sit on the couch, wear a bathing suit, put on sun screen, and pick pennies off the sidewalk?

It doesn't even take someone from Seattle talking to someone from Savannah to spot the differences. Case in point: these bars. I made them as a treat on the day that two friends came to visit. When they arrived, I pulled them out of the fridge and offered them each a Hello Dolly Bar. My friend from Long Island looked at them quizzically and finally said, "Oh, you mean Magic Cookies."

I wasn't surprised—I knew that these bar cookies are also commonly called Seven Layer Bars, especially in the South. I knew them as Hello Dolly bars because that's what they were called at Magnolia Bakery fifteen plus years ago when I would occasionally get them as an after school snack. Whatever their proper name, they're easy as pie to make and incredibly delicious.

The base is a graham cracker crust. That's topped with a layer of chocolate chips and pecans, followed by lots of sweetened shredded coconut (don't think of going with unsweetened here, that's not the style of these bars.) The whole thing is drizzled with condensed milk.

A few tips: First, you can basically mix and match any kind of nut and chip that you like. Butterscotch chips? White chocolate chips? Add them right in. Like walnuts better than pecans? Go right ahead. I do find that slightly softer, fattier nuts (think pecans, walnuts, cashews) work better than harder ones like almonds or peanuts. Second, refrigerate the bars. One of the best parts of these bars is how, when you bite in, the condensed milk kind of oozes out of little pockets. But if you add that to melting chocolate, it becomes a gooey mess that's just as hard to eat as it is to cut. These don't lose anything by being cold, and in fact I think they taste better after a day or two in the fridge. And last, the positioning of the coconut is a strategic one. I like to add it on top so that the bars get a visually appealing toasted coconut topping. If you put the coconut in the middle it won't toast and the bars will have a more rustic look, but the filling will be slightly more cohesive. It's your call.

All in all, given that these take about 5 minutes to throw together and 30 minutes to bake, I think we can all agree to call them our next afternoon snack.

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Hello Dolly Bars »

About the author: Carrie Vasios is the editor of Serious Eats: Sweets. She likes to peruse her large collection of cookbooks while eating jam from the jar. You can follow her on Twitter @carrievasios

[Photograph: Carrie Vasios]

When I was in college, as a special series for seniors, we got to attend some free Italian wine tastings. Everyone, eager to get as much free wine as possible, overtly displayed their love and appreciation. "Notes of cherry? Ah yes. And smoke, like the burning of twigs in the autumnal Tuscan air." Yet when the series switched to a special tasting of olive oils—taken plain by the demitasse spoonful—people were less than thrilled. "Ew this is gross." The lines for seconds shortened.

Personally, I was in heaven. I could drink good olive oil by the cupful. I love trying different varieties, including the super peppery kind that catches you in the back of your throat. I also love to bake with olive oil in a way that highlights that olive oil. Like these cookies.

These biscotti are simple. They taste like olive oil and pistachios. There's a little sweetness there, and a seemingly heavy dose of salt (which really just emphasizes the olive oil), but generally speaking what you taste is those first two things. Olive oil. Pistachios. Simple but perfect, which is why I polished off the whole batch over the course of four days, averaging about 4 cookies a day. With coffee. With tea. Alone. Gobbled down all.

I'm going to go ahead and tell you I use Frantoia olive oil not because anyone is telling me to, but because there is so much crappy olive oil available at Whole Foods and Amazon and I think this actually meets a good intersection of taste (fruity, with a hint of pepper) and price (around $20 for 34 ounces). Do I use it for everyday cooking? Egads, I do. But you don't have to. This has enough flavor that it could be considered a "good" olive oil used for salad dressings or other such applications. Of course there are even more awesome oils out there, and if you have really good olive oil and you're not hoarding it to drizzle on bread, use it here too. Or grab a spoon.

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Olive Oil Pistachio Biscotti »

About the author: Carrie Vasios is the editor of Serious Eats: Sweets. She likes to peruse her large collection of cookbooks while eating jam from the jar. You can follow her on Twitter @carrievasios

[Photograph: Carrie Vasios]

At parties that signal the end of an era, you tend to celebrate in the style of the thing you're leaving. For example, I found graduation parties from college involved kegs of Keystone Light, not bottles of Cabernet. At my bachelorette party, there will be late night clubbing, not a bowl of popcorn and Netflix serene marital bliss. Baby showers seem to be the exception: you celebrate the onslaught of cute with cutsie things.

Maybe one day at my own baby shower, I'll go out to a quiet, formal, obviously not-child-friendly restaurant and follow it up with a screening of Kill Bill. Until then, I'll be the gracious guest who shows up with cookies shaped like flowers or miniatured versions of normal food.

Another great option are these shortbread cookies, which I've named Polka Dot Shortbread for hopefully obvious reasons. I love the taste: buttery with a noticeable hit of salt that makes the sweet dots of jam pop. You can use any flavor jam you like, though I recommend avoiding jelly (too stiff to pipe), chunky preserves, or anything with seeds. I chose a combination of strawberry and apricot-peach, though for a baby girl's party you could go all strawberry, or for a boy, use blueberry or blackberry preserves.

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Polka Dot Shortbread »

About the author: Carrie Vasios is the editor of Serious Eats: Sweets. She likes to peruse her large collection of cookbooks while eating jam from the jar. You can follow her on Twitter @carrievasios

[Photograph: Carrie Vasios]

The first time I had an Elvis sandwich (for the uninitiated that'd be a fried banana, peanut butter, and bacon sandwich) I thought woah, this is intense, then eh, one bite'll do me. It's similar to trying on an Elvis Halloween costume. The first few minutes you're blinded by rhinestones and the light bouncing off your white pleather-clad thighs. Woah, this is intense. Then you realize your butt feels like ham in a resealable deli pack and you think eh, these two minutes'll do me. Where are the Ronald Reagan face masks?

There is genius in that sandwich, though, and it's the combination of peanut butter and banana. I wanted to incorporate both into a cookie but my first attempts, which used a peanut butter cookie as the base, didn't work out. I changed direction and made an oatmeal banana cookie that's mild but tasty on its own; almost like breakfast in a cookie.

Instead of swirling in peanut butter, I turned to a pack of peanut butter chips that I had in my freezer. They were sitting next to a bag of bittersweet chocolate chips—which obviously couldn't be left behind—and the rest is cookie history.

The dough for these drop cookies needs to be refrigerated for thirty minutes so that when they bake they don't spread thin but instead stay a little thick and chewy. Worried about the banana flavor? Well, I'll say this: if you don't like banana, don't make these. But you don't have to be a banana obsessive—the banana flavor is present but it's all about how it plays with the pops of bittersweet chocolate and salty-sweet peanut butter chips. The oats add body but flavor too, harmonizing with the banana just like they do in your morning bowl of oatmeal.

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Banana Oatmeal Cookies with Peanut Butter and Chocolate Chips »

About the author: Carrie Vasios is the editor of Serious Eats: Sweets. She likes to peruse her large collection of cookbooks while eating jam from the jar. You can follow her on Twitter @carrievasios

[Photograph: Carrie Vasios]

I get really, really excited when I see "cookie plate" as an option on a restaurant dessert menu. Why? Cookie plates are easy to share, making them an easy sell to fellow diners who are too full for a complete dessert. That means I won't, as tends to happen, be eating dessert alone, feeling the pointed stares of people who just want me to wrap it up so they can go home and watch that episode of Mad Men they have taped on their DVR. Of course that's alongside the fact that the only sweet I ever really want is a cookie, anyway.

Another bonus to cookie plates is variety: there tend to be at least three miniaturized iterations, like they put the cookies in the 3/4-sizing machine and we get to eat the fun sized snacks that popped out at the other end. There's almost always a biscotti on that plate, and most recently, I had some small cornmeal biscotti. Sweet, crunchy, with a slightly sandy texture, each was the perfect one dunk into an accompanying espresso.

I came home and immediately decided to make my own version. I wanted something in my biscotti, and cornmeal has a bit of sweetness which I thought would pair nicely with cherries, which also nod to the season. Cherries make me think of almond, but chopped almonds would have added too much crunch. So I chose almond extract—to be precise, I used a blend of almond and vanilla extracts because while using almond extract alone would overpower the cookie, just 1/2 teaspoon adds enough nutty flavor to complement the cherries.

I make these full size at home, when I'm more likely to be dunking them into my oversized "Mrs. Darcey" mug. But if you're having a dinner party, divide the dough into 4 equal sections and make the cookies just 1-inch high. I promise everyone will give them a try.

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Cornmeal Cherry Biscotti »

About the author: Carrie Vasios is the editor of Serious Eats: Sweets. She likes to peruse her large collection of cookbooks while eating jam from the jar. You can follow her on Twitter @carrievasios

[Photograph: Carrie Vasios]

Every family has a unique routine that they preform when a grownup—but not so grownup as to have their own children—child comes home to visit. Example: when one of my friends goes to visit her mom, they always end up going to the movies to watch a rom com. Afterwards they enjoy those big sugary blended coffee drinks which my friend never buys any other time. Another friend goes home to have his mother feed him a feast of tropical fruits—especially mango and pineapple and all the ones that are annoying to prep for yourself—and, yes, I keep trying to get invited over to his house. My parents? They introduce me to some BBC series that I haven't seen and inevitably love, then we have an episode-watching marathon while drinking tea and eating cookies.

This happened just recently with Call The Midwife, a show about midwives working in the East End of London in the 1950s. I became obsessed to the point where raiding my father's stash of Rich Tea Biscuits and Hobs Nobs wasn't cutting it. I wanted to fully live in the show but I didn't want to give birth/assist someone in giving birth. So I made my own digestives.

Digestives are a type of whole wheat cookie which culinary historians say the Victorians developed in order to add fiber to their diet. Some versions are just a blend of whole wheat and white flour while others, mine included, add some ground oats. Plain digestives are plain indeed, with just the slightest nutty, honeyed flavor. Those are nice, especially for breakfast or if you need to settle your stomach, but these are more dessert worthy, thanks to a coating of dark chocolate.

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Chocolate Covered Digestive Cookies »

About the author: Carrie Vasios is the editor of Serious Eats: Sweets. She likes to peruse her large collection of cookbooks while eating jam from the jar. You can follow her on Twitter @carrievasios

[Photograph: Carrie Vasios]

Alongside rainbow cookies and sprinkle-covered butter cookies, Florentines are a staple of Italian-American bakeries. You'll often find them gussied up with chocolate, and, growing up, the white chocolate dipped version was one of my absolute favorite treats. Now I prefer the more traditional version, paired down to their paper thin elegance. In fact with all that white chocolate coating, it took me a long time to realize that true Florentines should taste of orange and almonds.

These cookies are delicate but addictive; crisp and sweet, brightened by the zest and given subtle floral notes from the almonds. Whereas many recipes will have you grind almonds until they're essentially almond flour, I prefer to roughly chop blanched sliced almonds so that you get a more interesting texture and some visual appeal. The almonds are mixed with a cooked sugar mixture and, because I think it works the best to hold the thin batter together, light corn syrup.

If you have silipat sheets, this is the time to use them. As I mentioned, these cookies are incredibly thin and, as they cool, they'll become very crisp. It's much easier to peel them off the silicone liners than off greased parchment. One other word of advice: don't store these cookies with another type as the moisture from the other cookies will cause these to soften. But do make them: they are a perfect spring cookie, and lovely crumbled up over some ice cream.

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Florentine Cookies »

About the author: Carrie Vasios is the editor of Serious Eats: Sweets. She likes to peruse her large collection of cookbooks while eating jam from the jar. You can follow her on Twitter @carrievasios

[Photograph: Carrie Vasios]

The staff of SE recently shared our favorite moments of food on film. I offered the entire film Moonstruck, citing a few of what I hope are obvious reasons.*

*TL/DR: Eggs in purgatory, oatmeal, Italian mothers, Olympia Dukakis, and Cher.

There is another food moment that has always stuck with me, but I held back from sharing, afraid it was too obscure (and maybe too embarrassing). But here we go: Anyone watch the 1987 miniseries Rags to Riches? It's a classic set up: "When millionaire Nick Foley learns that his public "playboy" image could impede a highly profitable company merger he's trying to negotiate, he adopts five orphan girls. Now, bachelor Nick must struggle between his time-consuming business commitments and the girls' need for a real father." Did I mention it's a musical ?

Amazing, I know. If you did watch this gem of 1980s television, you may remember the scene when the girls, left on their own, decided to make cookies. There is a close up shot when they dump just about every candy in the house into a chocolate chip cookie base, making what I imagined were the biggest, chunkiest, most awesome cookies ever. I thought about those cookies a lot. I begged my mom to let us add chopped up candy bars to cookies, but we didn't, and I had to fullfill that dream as an adult.

These cookies may not be full of candy, but they have that same satisfying height and weight, the same gleeful chunk. Each bite is guaranteed to have chocolate chips and walnuts. To ensure even more chocolate per bite, I actually prefer to use chocolate buttons (available from Ghirardelli or Guittard) or chocolate chunks rather than chips. If you use dark chocolate, as I did, it enhances that slightly bitter tang of walnuts, making these taste both slightly grown-up and perfectly matched for a tall glass of milk. Prefer milk chocolate or white chocolate? Swap it in, no problem.

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Chunky Chocolate Chip Walnut Cookies »

About the author: Carrie Vasios is the editor of Serious Eats: Sweets. She likes to peruse her large collection of cookbooks while eating jam from the jar. You can follow her on Twitter @carrievasios

[Photograph: Carrie Vasios]

For me spring really arrives with the blossoming of the trees. Despite living in a city, I crave the sight of green leaves, and I don't think there is anything more exciting than seeing the first tiny buds appear on branches which have been bare all winter. During this time of year I also take care to look down, eager to site batches of exploratory purple crocus and then, if I'm lucky, the first early willowy tulips.

I'm happy to spread my flower-hunting to other parts of my life, momentarily sporting more floral prints than an old woman's sofa. Baking gets the floral treatment as well, exemplified by these cookies.

These are easy, happy cookies that make a fun seasonal project. The base is a sugar cookie dough that I've given a lemon twist. The cookies are neither crisp nor soft—they're simply that firm yet easy to bite through standard sugar cookie texture. A dose of both lemon zest and juice gives the dough a serious pop of citrus flavor. "Tastes like lemon and sugar," said one taste tester. Which is exactly as it should be—nothing more, nothing less.

I personally like using the more coarse sanding sugar to decorate these flowers and give them some sparkle for Easter. Feel free to use any sprinkles you want or even dye your frosting using a little food coloring. Even served plain, they'd make a great afternoon snack on a day when you want to feel a breath of spring.

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Iced Lemon Tulip Cookies »

About the author: Carrie Vasios is the editor of Serious Eats: Sweets. She likes to peruse her large collection of cookbooks while eating jam from the jar. You can follow her on Twitter @carrievasios

[Photograph: Carrie Vasios]

It feels like something I could have seen on Bill Nye the Science Guy: making brownies with a can of Coke. I can see the beakers of smoking dry ice and the kids in their protective goggles watching carefully as Bill dramatically stirs the fizzing cola into the bowl of dry ingredients. 30 minutes later or one commercial break later, poof: brownies. Brownies made with Coca Cola.

I had heard whisperings of magic brownies—no, not that kind—and finally decided to give it a go. Most recipes call for starting with a boxed brownie mix, the idea being that you substitute the normal wet ingredients like eggs, butter, or vegetable oil, with a can of Coke. I decided to go one step further, starting with a from-scratch brownie recipe.

Well, my first attempt was a disaster. When you pour in the Coke it fizzes, a lot (yeah, I know, shoulda-realized-duh), making it hard to get the batter smooth. I also had too much liquid and my brownies baked up barely cohesive, with chunks of cocoa powder to boot. On the positive side? They did rise, and they did taste like brownie batter, if not quite chocolatey enough.

In the next attempt I seriously upped my dry ingredients and increased the proportion of cocoa powder, and it worked. The resulting brownies were still fudgey and damp, but that's how I like them. The biggest difference between these brownies and r-egg-ular brownies is that the crumb has a bit of spring—from the soda bubbles evaporating?—making them slightly reminiscent of fat free chocolate cake from the 1990s. Again, a quality I don't mind.

So, there you go. A little bit of baking magic. Have fun trying this at home, kids.

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Coca Cola Brownies »

About the author: Carrie Vasios is the editor of Serious Eats: Sweets. She likes to peruse her large collection of cookbooks while eating jam from the jar. You can follow her on Twitter @carrievasios

[Photograph: Carrie Vasios]

If every morning I could crunch through the flaky exterior of a pastelito to find the tang of cream cheese mingling with the sweet fruitiness of guava paste, I would be a happy person. And if you know that I live in San Francisco, you know that I, theoretically, should be able to do this quite easily. Mexican markets and Latin American eateries abound in this city. Or do they?

San Francisco neighborhoods are actually rather distinct, and though most people think of the Mexican-influenced Mission area when they think of San Francisco, that part of the city doesn't really extend north of Market Street. Getting between the two sides of the city isn't easy, especially if, like me, you can't drive. Then you have to rely on the bus. That would be fine. Living in New York, I liked my little commute. I got a ton of reading done. But I can't read in cars (my fault) and the bus system here is pretty bad. If it had just been that one time that someone pooped on the bus while I was on it that would be one thing, but then the old man came on without his pants. Nothing puts you off eating pastry like a surprise attack of old man parts. Just saying.

Of course anyone who's eaten in San Francisco knows that the Mission is worth trekking to, and the last time I went I remembered to bring my biggest shopping bag and set aside time to do some stocking up. I hit up a bunch of little markets, scooping up everything from dried chiles to fresh cheeses. And, of course, guava paste.

When you have multiple tins of guava paste, you realize that guava-filled pastelitos are only the beginning of the fun. Take for example, these guava bars. The base is a simple shortbread crust that's pressed into a 13- by 9-inch pan then toped with slices of sweet, fruity, oh-so-delicious guava paste. Many guava bars are topped with a second layer of shortbread, but guava paste is pretty rich. I thought that a crumbly oat topping would lighten the feeling of the bars by adding a bit of crunch. You can still easily get 24 bars out of this pan (or 12 if you're feeding ambitious eaters). They're fruity, crunchy, and totally worth the bus ride—though I'm still looking into a bike.

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Guava Bars »

About the author: Carrie Vasios is the editor of Serious Eats: Sweets. She likes to peruse her large collection of cookbooks while eating jam from the jar. You can follow her on Twitter @carrievasios

[Photograph: Carrie Vasios]

Those chocolate orange balls that you eat around Christmastime. Chocolate covered orange peel. Chocolate bars with candied citrus. Yup, I'm a sucker for basically anything in the chocolate-orange category. Yet I didn't have a recipe for chocolate-orange cookies—something I finally decided to remedy.

The first cookies I made were soft chocolate drop cookies studded with pieces of candied orange. They were fine, but only having the occasional pop of orange flavor wasn't enough to satisfy my craving. I wanted uniformly chocolatey-orangey cookies. I also decided soft wasn't the right texture for this flavor combination. Chewy, for whatever reason, seemed like the better way to go.

So instead, I used the tried and true combination of orange zest and juice to give the cookies a bright citrus flavor. Unsweetened cocoa powder adds the backbone of dark chocolate, while a good dose of plain white sugar marries the two. These cookies are bendy and chewy, with just the lightest crispness up top. "Like the edge of a brownie," said one friend who graciously ate a whole pan acted as cookie tester.

Want to make these kid friendly? Hand them a cookie with a glass of milk. These guys make great dunkers.

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Chewy Chocolate Orange Cookies »

About the author: Carrie Vasios is the editor of Serious Eats: Sweets. She likes to peruse her large collection of cookbooks while eating jam from the jar. You can follow her on Twitter @carrievasios