Next-Level Chocolate Chip Cookies

I don't know what's going on, guys. But I have been in one of those zones where I am in Taking On the World Mode. There has to be some kind of groovy, planetary thing that's propelling this insanity, because I'm suddenly all about Next Level Stuff over here. Like taking the leap to "big'gerl underwearz" (for Little C, not me, pervs!) the same week as finding out that I'm taking on some new projects that simultaneously thrill and terrify me (I will tell more as soon as I'm sure I won't get sued for it, I promise!). This is all on top of getting super close to Go Time for the fabulous San Francisco Food Bloggers' Bake Sale. Also, Royal Wedding fever? I've totally come down with it. True.

But in spite of all the crazy, I am here, because I love you and I can't stay away. Also, one of those aforementioned Next Level Things was devising a way to transport the humble chocolate chip cookie to a different dimension and, well, I just couldn't hide this light under a bushel, people. This is Important News (jazz hands).

So last week, right about the same time that the words "potty" and "big girl panties" started being used in high-pitched questions way too often in our household, my beloved brother-in-law came for a short visit. The brother-in-law who, along with my sister, will be chiefly responsible for my child thinking her own parents are seriously, helplessly uncool. He was on his way through town to play a few shows here in San Francisco, and I couldn't send him back on the road without cookies and candy, naturally. You know how that whole thing goes.

The plan was just to go with good old chocolate chip cookies--no fancy cookie pants, just traditional, chocolate-chipped love. I had all the ingredients in the house, things were looking easy peasy. Until I tapped into those Next-Level Urges I was telling you about earlier. They're insatiable, I'm telling you. I know, I don't know EITHER. But I suddenly decided a regular chocolate chip cookie was totally Current Level and therefore simply would not do.

So the goal was to create a twist on the classic, here. I mean, I wasn't trying to get all molecular gastronomy on Toll House or anything. I just wanted to see how much flavor and texture play could happen, just by preparing things a little differently.

This is how it all goes go down. Hack up a bunch of chocolate chips (if you've got a few odds and ends of bars and almost-empty bags of chips in your cupboards, even better), breaking some up just a little, creating lots of little shards out of the rest. You're going for a sort of chocolate tweed here, with the occasional hunk.

Next comes the butter. Melted and browned, then frozen solid again. Let it sit out on the counter for a few minutes to soften up just enough that it can be creamed with the sugars. Can I just say that I always die a little from the gorgeous nutty scent of browned butter? If I could marry a smell, browned butter would be it. That is all.

The other little je ne sais quoi flavor bumper here is a dash of almond extract with the vanilla. Man, oh man, how I love almond extract. It's so great at giving things a little boost of "Huh! What's that?", know what I mean? It's genius in buttercreams, batters and doughs of all sorts. Here, it also played well with the nuttiness of the browned butter, so that's a win-win-WIN sort of situation, I'd say.

Overall, the finished cookies had everything any self-respecting person loves about classic chocolate chip cookies--buttery, sugary, crisp, a bit tender just at the center, loads of chocolate. More than one band member proclaimed they were the best chocolate chip cookies they'd ever had, and I don't just think it's because they'd been travelling in a band van for a couple weeks. I'm telling you, these are like Illuminated Chocolate Chip cookies. Just different enough to blow minds. It's like if you went out on your normal Girls Night Out karaoke excursion and then Prince William showed up. And then you fell in love and then you became the Princess of Wales. I told you, I have Royal Wedding fever! But I didn't tell you that I have nothing against being somebody's second wife. Just saying.

Illuminated Chocolate Chip Cookies

I love using a mix of chocolate chips for these cookies--bittersweet, milk and semi-sweet--but use whatever sounds good to you.

Makes 4 dozen

1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, cut into 1-inch pieces

2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon salt

3/4 cup granulated sugar

3/4 cup firmly packed dark brown sugar

1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla

Scant 1/2 teaspoon almond extract

2 large eggs, at room temperature

1 1/2 to 2 cups bittersweet chocolate chips (or a combination of different kinds of chips), roughly chopped into hunks and shards (see note)

Place the butter in a medium saucepan over medium high heat. Melt and cook the butter over until it is browned and smells nutty, swirling the pan occasionally, about 6 minutes. Listen closely--as soon as the butter stops sizzling and popping, you are seconds away from perfectly browned butter. Pour the browned butter into a small metal pan. Freeze until the butter is completely solid, about 15 minutes. Remove the pan from the freezer and let it sit at room temperature for about 10-15 minutes.

In a large bowl, sift together the flour, baking soda and salt.

Place the sugars and extracts in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Scrape the browned butter out of the pan in hunks and place them in the mixer bowl. Beat the butter, sugars and extracts together until smooth, light and fluffy, about 3 to 4 minutes (depending on how cold the butter is when you put it in the bowl, it may take a minute or two longer). Scrape down the bowl and beat in the eggs one at a time. Reduce the mixer speed to low and gradually stir in the flour. Stir in the chocolate bits by hand. Cover the bowl tightly with plastic wrap and chill for at least an hour, or up to 2 days.

When you're ready to bake, position the oven racks to the upper and lower thirds of the oven and preheat it to 350 degrees. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper or silicone baking mats. Scoop the dough into 1-tablespoon-sized balls and place them on the baking sheets, 12 to a sheet. Bake until golden brown, about 13 to 15 minutes, rotating the sheets top to bottom and front to back halfway through baking. Let the cookies cool for a minute before transferring them to wire racks to cool completely. Repeat with the remaining dough. Store in an airtight container at room temperature.

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Easter Treat Round-Up

Did I ever tell you about the most glorious Easter celebration I've ever had? No? Well.

A couple of years ago, we drove up to Napa for the day to hang out with one of our favorite families. Great food was in no short supply--juicy local ham, bubbling and golden cheese grits, grilled asparagus, lots and lots of big Napa Chardonnay. We ate at a long wooden farm table in the sunny backyard. We all looked around to realize that every single person was in khakis and some shade of a pastel shirt. There was bocce ball involved. It was like a Saveur dream. I also think we'd never felt so WASP-y in our entire lives. But it was picture-perfect, for sure.

I hope you've got fun-filled plans for the weekend this year, guys. Whether they're pulled from a glossy food magazine, or--like mine will be--thrown together at the last minute and full of loud child antics with a breathless trip to Target because Yes, of course the Easter Bunny called us on the cell phone, Honey! Of course he will bring you lots of treats! Whatever you're up to, try any one of the following and you'll be golden. Happy Easter, everyone!

Bubble Gum Marshmallows (photo above). The good Lord knows I've got nothing against Peeps, but I highly encourage you to blow everyone's minds with homemade marshmallows this year.

Quick Brioche. Speaking of blowing minds, freshly baked bread does the trick quite nicely as well.

Raspberry-Pistachio Brown Butter Cake. For dessert or for an Easter brunch buffet. Even the Easter Bunny can't multitask like this.

Glazed Clementine Chiffon Cake. Because nothing says "happy day!" quite like a zippy, citrusy, big Mama chiffon cake.

Little Lime Cupcakes. And on a related note, nothing says "happy day!" quite like zippy, citrusy wee cakes, either. Also, frosting.

Cherry Shortbread Cake Squares. So simple. So cheery-looking. So easy to eat five at once.

Spring Vegetable Quiche. See how I've tucked a little savory in here for ya? Perfect, just perfect, for Easter brunch.

Tomato, Goat Cheese and Caramelized Onion Tarts. More savory loveliness. Brunch, lunch, early supper, whatever. Just get you some.

My Favorite Cheesecake. This recipe is so easy, it's crazy--like crustless cheesecake-crazy. Easter-level magic, I'm telling you.

Classic Popovers. I can't think of a situation where these wouldn't be perfect, actually.

Lemon White Chocolate Butter Cookies. If ever there was a perfect Spring cookie, BAM! This is it.

Chocolate Peanut Butter Crumble Bars. A perfect way to use up all that rogue, leftover Easter chocolate. You know it will make it into your face eventually. Best to just make an event of it.

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Glazed Root Beer Float Bundt Cake

Generally speaking, I am a less-is-more sort of person. Unless it comes to pairs of cute, comfortable flats, a most excellent face cream, and the most perfect pen ever created. Or, apparently, Bundt cakes. I don't know what it is, but man, I've got the hots for Bundt cakes. Every time I make one, I'm all, "Why haven't I committed more of my life to Bundt cakes? This is perfection!". They are so super easy, so unbeatably moist, they keep for days and days and just keep getting better. Plus, with the pretty pattern of a Bundt pan, all you need a glaze or a little dusting of powdered sugar and BAM!--instant prettycakes. Love it.

But then I recently tried a long-bookmarked recipe for a Root Beer Float Bundt Cake, and let me tell you what. This is some next-level Bundting right here. Cake plus chocolate plus root beer? Oh, hello, One-Way Ticket to Paradise--don't mind if I do.

So like I said, I've had a little Post-it on this recipe from the Baked boys' first book for oh, approximately 100 years. And just as many times, I've intended to remember to buy root beer, but like scheduling a dentist appointment, just plain forgot about the whole thing. However! Recently I happened to be testing another crazy recipe that involved root beer, and in the sort of twist of fate that kind of makes you feel like you're totally part of the obesity epidemic, happened to have a serious excess of root beer on hand. And Boylan's too--the good stuff. Root Beer Float Bundt Cake was now officially on the docket.

Oh, and speaking of being part of the epidemic, guess how this recipe starts out? Yeah. Butter chunks and root beer in a pan. Excellent.

The rest of the recipe comes together in a flash, a one-bowl-and-a-whisk deal, the sort of thing I absolutely fall in love with. After a long bake that produces the kind of intoxicating smell that makes you have to chain yourself to something heavy to keep from charging the oven, you top the whole glorious thing off with a chocolaty root beer glaze.

Truthfully, the original recipe calls for a much more ample topping, but I wanted something a bit leaner. And because you know me by now, I don't mean lean for the benefit of my pants--Lord knows I could've taken a bath in that aforementioned saucepan of buttered root beer--but I just feel like all is right with the world when a Bundt cake has a sexy, drippy glaze. So I've doctored the topping a bit to get there. After mowing down this cake with its more modest glaze, I can't even imagine the places this cake might take you to with a fuller fat frosting. It's just--I can't--I mean, I'm married, you guys.

Glazed Root Beer Float Bundt Cake

Adapted from Matt Lewis and Renato Poliafito's Baked: New Frontiers in Baking

If you can, make this cake a day ahead--the root beer flavor really comes out after a day to rest at (cool) room temperature.

Don't even think of using diet root beer here. Not even for a second. Thanks.

For the cake:

2 cups root beer

1 cup dark unsweetened cocoa powder (I like Valrhona)

1/2 cup unsalted butter, cut into pieces

1 1/4 cups granulated sugar

1/2 cup firmly packed dark brown sugar

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 1/4 teaspoons baking soda

1 teaspoon salt

2 large eggs

For the glaze:

2 cups confectioners' sugar

1/3 cup dark unsweetened cocoa powder

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

1/4 cup root beer

3 tablespoons unsalted butter, very soft

Position an oven rack to the lower third of the oven and preheat it to 325 degrees. Spray a 10-inch Bundt pan generously with nonstick cooking spray.

Combine the root beer, cocoa powder and butter in a medium saucepan. Place it over medium heat and warm the mixture, stirring often, until the butter is melted. Whisk in the sugars. Let cool.

In large bowl, sift together the flour, baking soda and salt.

Lightly beat the eggs in a small bowl, then whisk them into the cooled root beer-cocoa mixture. Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients, and gently stir the wet ingredients into the dry. The batter will be slightly lumpy, and this is perfectly fine. Don't overmix the batter. Scrape the batter into the prepared pan.

Bake the cake until a toothpick inserted into the cake comes out clean, about 45-50 minutes (the original recipe says 35-40, but I needed 10 minutes more). Let the cake cool for at least 30 minutes in the pan before gently loosening the sides of the cake from the pan and inverting it onto a wire rack to cool completely (spray the rack lightly with nonstick spray before inverting the cake to prevent it from sticking as it finishes cooling).

To make the glaze, whisk together the confectioners' sugar, cocoa powder, salt, vanilla and root beer in a medium bowl until well-blended. Whisk in the softened butter until smooth. If necessary, adjust the glaze with more confectioners' sugar to thicken the glaze or a bit of root beet to thin it--you want it to flow lazily off a spoon--not to runny, but no where near spreadable. Spoon the glaze over the cake and let it drip down the sides. Let the glaze set for 15 minutes or so before serving. This cake keeps covered at room temperature for at least 5 days (and just gets better and better as it sits), or longer if refrigerated.

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Coffee Toffee

Let's talk favorite things, shall we? Since I'm the one asking the rhetorical questions here, I'll go first. Cue the Julie Andrews...here are a few of my favorite things:

• Fresh notebooks
• Offset spatulas
• Fleetwood Mac
• Back-to-back episodes of Storage Wars
• Little C singing to the Annie soundtrack, loudly
• A drawer full of clean dish towels
• Lillet and soda
• Espresso powder for baking
• Pecans by the handful
• Sugar and butter bubbling on the stove

Now, I may not have Oprah-level Favorite Things, but that's all right by me. Because I've found a way to combine the last few items of my personal favorite things list and my mind is of sort of blown by the whole thing. So take that, Oprah!

Then again, I guess making Coffee Toffee is what I would call an Oprah-level ("Life-chaaaangiiing!!! Life. Changing. Lifechanging.") moment. Dang. Oprah wins every time, doesn't she?

Well...psshh-shaa. Whatever. I bet Oprah doesn't even make her own candy.

But maybe Oprah would make her own Coffee Toffee is she knew how dead simple it was. It takes little more than butter, sugar, pecans and espresso powder to make the magic happen. I don't see how this could not go well, do you?

This recipe is a riff on my Gifting Toffee, the confection that I turn out of my kitchen roughly 100 times during the holiday season. People go bananas for that stuff, I'm telling you. It's akin to currency for some. But here I've decided to forgo the chocolate. Now, before you gasp and get all concerned, you'll be happy to know that the healthy dose of chunky pecans and je ne sais quoi that comes courtesy of espresso powder more than make up for the lack of chocolate. Plus, leaving the toffee naked really lets the irresistible flavors of browned butter and caramelized sugar shine. With a nice smattering of salt in the mix for balance, oooh-weeee. Let's just say if you give little bags of this stuff away, people will crown you the Oprah of Candy. Or something equally as epic.

Coffee Toffee

If your pecans are on the large side (I will refrain from a dirty joke here), then break them in half so they'll distribute more evenly throughout the candy. I like Diamond kosher salt for its clean flavor, and sometimes even use fleur de sel if I'm feeling fancy. For Morton kosher salt or table salt, use half the amount.

Makes about 2 pounds

1/2 pound unsalted butter (2 sticks)
1 teaspoon kosher salt (see note)
1 cup plus 6 tablespoons granulated sugar
1 tablespoon corn syrup
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
1 teaspoon instant espresso powder
1 cup raw pecans halves

Line a rimmed baking sheet with a nonstick baking mat, or line it completely with aluminum foil and spray it with nonstick cooking spray.

In a medium, heavy-bottomed saucepan, begin melting the butter over medium-high heat with the salt. Once the butter is about three-quarters melted, add the sugar all at once, followed by the corn syrup, and begin stirring immediately. Continue stirring, gently in a figure-eight motion, until the butter is completely melted and the sugar has begun to dissolve, about 5 minutes--the mixture will turn from looking like a separated mess into something much more smooth and homogenous. It will also just begin to bubble at this point and take on a lovely blond shade. Turn the heat down to medium-low and stir the candy occasionally. Think low and slow--the bubbling will be sort of groovy and dreamy-looking, not a full, rapid boil.

Once you notice a change in the color of the candy--about 10-15 minutes later--clip a candy thermometer to the side of the pan, making sure it doesn't touch the bottom of the pan. Continue stirring occasionally. You are looking for the candy to take on a beautiful, creamy toffee color and hit a temperature of 290 degrees (soft crack stage). When it has climbed to about 285 degrees, pull the pan from the heat (the temperature will continue to rise on its own). Quickly mix in the vanilla and the espresso powder, stirring until the powder is well-blended. Stir in the pecans.

Quickly pour the toffee onto the prepared baking sheet, and use an offset spatula to smooth it as evenly as possible (it will not fill the entire pan). Set the pan on a wire rack and cool completely. When the toffee is cool, break it into charmingly irregular pieces and store in an airtight container in a cool, dry place.

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Chocolate Truffle Pound Cake

Actual conversation that recently took place in my household:

Me, to Little C: What did you just say?

Little C: I said--I'm a hot mess, Mama. You know, like you!

True story. And such a terrific example of how children of a certain age can make you want to suffocate them with kisses, laugh until you cry and yet simultaneously horrify you. Now, in all fairness, I do often proclaim loudly that I am a hot mess, and everybody knows that toddlers are parrots (and pudgy-knuckled crumb carriers). But that doesn't give my barely two-and-half-year-old offspring reason to rub it in, right? Also, let it be known that my disorganized shanty of a brain managed to actually pull something genius out the madness in recent days--Chocolate Truffle Pound Cake. Little C shoved half of it in her face almost immediately. Kids, I tell ya. They never give you any credit.

Way back when I shared an heirloom recipe for a much-loved, buttery, golden-crusted pound cake with you, I thought I'd reached the Pound Cake Apex. And in a way, I had. But that was before I thought to make a soft bittersweet chocolate ganache, scoop it into gumball-sized truffles, and then bake them into the pound cake. I know, right?! Next level stuff.

So grab yourself a big, thick slice and a tall glass of milk and enjoy. Marvel at the combination of buttery, fragrant vanilla cake tunneled with melty chocolate truffles. And try to ignore any nearby toddlers who are probably just criticizing you behind your back.

Chocolate Truffle Pound Cake

This is a perfect cake for gifting--it actually gets better in the few days following baking.

Don't fret about making perfectly round truffles. Some of them will melt in the batter and make their own little chocolate tunnels throughout the cake.

Makes 1 9x5-inch loaf

For the chocolate truffles:

5 ounces bittersweet chocolate (at least 60% cacao), chopped

3 tablespoons heavy cream

For the cake:

1 1/2 cups cake flour, spooned and leveled

1/8 teaspoon salt

1/8 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, at room temperature

1 1/3 cups sugar

3 eggs

1/2 cup sour cream (not lowfat)

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Begin by making the chocolate truffles. Combine the chocolate and the cream in a medium heatproof bowl. Microwave on high for 30-second intervals, stirring well after each, until the mixture is smooth. Place the bowl in the refrigerator to set until firm, several hours or overnight. If you're impatient like me, you can speed things up by throwing the bowl in the freezer until set.

When the ganache is firm, use a small scoop (I like a melon baller) to scoop truffles about 1 inch in diameter. Place the truffles on a small parchment-lined baking sheet and freeze again until firm, about 10-15 minutes.

Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 325 degrees. Butter and flour a 9x5x3-inch loaf pan and line it with parchment paper.

Sift the flour with the salt and baking soda into a medium bowl.

In the bowl of a standing mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat the butter on medium speed until creamy. Add the sugar and beat on medium speed until light and fluffy. Reduce the speed to medium-low, and beat in the eggs one and a time. Scrape down the sides and bottom of the bowl and stir in the sour cream and vanilla on low speed. Add the flour mixture 1/2 cup at a time on low speed until the batter is smooth.

Pour the half the batter into the prepared pan. Drop half the truffles willy-nilly about the surface of the batter, pressing them lightly into the batter, but not submerging them completely. Repeat with the second half of the batter and truffles. Bake until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean (melty chocolate notwithstanding), about 70-80 minutes. Cool for 20 minutes in the pan on a wire rack before using the parchment sleeve to remove the cake from the pan and allowing it to cool completely.

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