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Cranberry Walnut Oatmeal Cookies -- The Ones I Brought to the Floor

I don't usually write about politics here. I write about food and nursing and Sean D. and the texture of life in Southie, and those things feel manageable in a way that politics often doesn't. But it's Wednesday evening and I'm sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of tea I've been reheating for three hours and I need to say something, even briefly, before I get back to the kitchen.

Tuesday night was hard. I'm a nurse at a hospital that serves everyone regardless of circumstances, and I know the faces of the people who will be most affected by what happens in Washington over the next four years, and I sat with that knowledge through the early hours of Wednesday morning and felt the specific helplessness of someone who did what she was supposed to do and it wasn't enough. I know I'm not alone in this. I also know that nursing has taught me something important: the work in front of you is the work you can do. You do it. You keep doing it. You don't stop because of what you can't control.

I called Meghan at seven AM. She answered on the first ring, which meant she hadn't slept. She was already in problem-solving mode, which is Meghan's grief language. I let her plan. I need someone to plan right now.

The kitchen helped. I baked this week more than I've baked in months — Wednesday oatmeal cookies, Thursday soda bread, Friday the brown butter blondies I make when I need something that feels both self-indulgent and competent. There is something about baking on hard days that is exactly right: you do something with your hands that produces a result you can see and taste and give away. I brought cookies to the floor. I brought soda bread to Maureen. I kept the blondies and ate them while reading a novel instead of the news, which was the right call.

Sean D. came over Friday night. We didn't talk about it for about an hour, which was its own kind of comfort. He brought Thai food. We watched a movie. The world kept being what it was, and we kept being what we were, and tomorrow there will be work to do.

The Wednesday cookies were the ones I kept coming back to — there’s something about oatmeal cookies specifically that feels like the right thing to make when you need your hands to be busy and your output to be shareable. They’re humble enough to bring to a hospital floor without feeling like a gesture, and sturdy enough to survive in a zip-lock bag in your bag for three days, which matters. These are the ones I made: cranberry walnut, which I prefer to raisin because the tartness keeps them from going too sweet, and because I had a bag of cranberries in the freezer that needed using, which is also a kind of problem-solving.

Cranberry Walnut Oatmeal Cookies

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 27 min | Servings: 24 cookies

Ingredients

  • 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
  • 1 cup packed light brown sugar
  • 1/2 cup granulated sugar
  • 2 large eggs
  • 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
  • 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
  • 1/2 teaspoon fine salt
  • 3 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
  • 1 cup dried cranberries
  • 3/4 cup roughly chopped walnuts

Instructions

  1. Preheat the oven. Heat your oven to 350°F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper and set aside.
  2. Cream butter and sugars. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter with the brown sugar and granulated sugar on medium speed until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes.
  3. Add eggs and vanilla. Beat in the eggs one at a time, then mix in the vanilla extract until fully incorporated.
  4. Mix the dry ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, cinnamon, and salt. Add the dry mixture to the butter mixture and stir until just combined —don’t overmix.
  5. Fold in oats, cranberries, and walnuts. Stir in the rolled oats, dried cranberries, and walnuts until evenly distributed throughout the dough.
  6. Scoop and space. Drop rounded tablespoons of dough onto the prepared baking sheets, spacing them about 2 inches apart. Gently flatten each ball with the palm of your hand.
  7. Bake. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes, until the edges are set and lightly golden but the centers still look slightly underdone. They will firm up as they cool.
  8. Cool. Let the cookies rest on the baking sheet for 5 minutes before transferring to a wire rack. They’re good warm, and they travel well wrapped in foil.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 218 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 10g | Carbs: 30g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 105mg

Kate Donovan
About the cook who shared this
Kate Donovan
Week 33 of Kate’s 30-year story · Boston, Massachusetts
Kate is a thirty-five-year-old nurse practitioner in Boston and a widowed mother of two whose husband Sean died of brain cancer at thirty-three. She makes Irish soda bread and beef stew and shepherd's pie because the recipes are all she has left of a man who was supposed to grow old with her. She writes about cooking through grief and finding out you can still feed your children on the worst day of your life.

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