Oatmeal Cookies

It's never a good sign in our household when you see these items out on the counter in the middle of the work week.  That's right: It was a bad day.  Our solution: Oatmeal cookies. No raisins and no chocolate chips today...no time for that. Just straight oatmeal cookies. 

In our mouths.

ASAP. 

It's actually been a rough week for both of us, and if our brown sugar supply allowed, we'd have made a double batch.

I'm not going to lay out the details of the recipe here because, honestly, we follow the Vanishing Oatmeal Cookies recipe on the inside of the Quaker Oats lid. Pretty basic. 

The only secret to making them uniquely ours is...

Cinnamon just isn't enough spice for us. 

This adds an incredible twist to the taste of the cookies.

We add nutmeg to a lot of things now.  

I've loved the flavor since discovering it in our dad's meatball recipe.

We've made this recipe so many (many, many, many) times, that we could practically bake a batch with our eyes closed.  I could tell you the measurements for a full, double, half or quarter batch without a calculator (just knocked out a 1/4 batch two weeks ago when hubbie was out of town. feel free to judge, don't care. desperate times...)

So you start with your  sugars & unsalted butter...

Whip it up until it's really fluffly...like this. Then add your eggs & vanilla. 

TIP: Be sure you mix those dry ingredients together separate from the wet ingredients before adding them into the main mixing bowl 

(it's a no-brainer--total common sense step to me now--but I had to learn it from my BFF, Cole, in college--love you, N!)

The pinched, mini dollops I plop onto the cookie sheet are dwarfed by the scoops my husband shovels out.  His look more like hamburger buns. 

In the end, we get what we set out to achieve: our favorite sweet treat. The kitchen smells like butter, oats, nutmeg & hope. 

Afterward, our stomachs are full & hard. 

Our hearts & minds sated. 

For best results, enjoy with coffee or red wine, 

depending on how bad your day was. 

Unfortunately for us, the batch never makes it to sunrise.