Our oven fits exactly one half-sheet pan, on one rack, if you turn it slightly diagonal and close the door with your hip. It also runs about 20 degrees hot and has a back left corner that could toast marshmallows on its own. Every December, I bake cookies in it anyway, because the galley kitchen smells like brown butter for a week and the heat from the oven takes the chill off the whole apartment.
This year's batch went to Sam's coworkers at the clinic, our downstairs neighbors, and a tin we kept for ourselves and emptied in four days. Here's the recipe I keep coming back to and the small-oven habits that make it work.
Small-oven rules I learned the annoying way
- Buy an oven thermometer. About $7. Ours revealed that "350" meant 370. I now set the dial to 330.
- Rotate the pan halfway through. Every time, without exception. That hot back corner will otherwise turn three cookies into charcoal.
- Bake one sheet at a time. Two racks in a tiny oven means the top pan blocks heat from the bottom one. Slower, but even.
- Use parchment and two pans in rotation. While one bakes, the other cools down before you load it. Putting dough on a hot pan makes cookies spread into puddles.
- Chill the dough. A small kitchen gets warm fast once the oven is on. Cold dough holds its shape.
Brown-butter sugar cookies (makes about 30)
These are soft in the middle, crisp at the edges, and taste a little like toffee from the browned butter. No mixer needed, which matters when your counter space is about the size of a cutting board.
Ingredients, with rough cost
| Ingredient | Amount | Rough cost |
|---|---|---|
| Unsalted butter | 1 cup (2 sticks) | $2.50 |
| Granulated sugar | 1 cup, plus 1/4 cup for rolling | $0.60 |
| Light brown sugar | 1/4 cup, packed | $0.25 |
| Egg | 1 large, plus 1 yolk | $0.60 |
| Vanilla extract | 2 teaspoons | $0.80 |
| All-purpose flour | 2 1/4 cups | $0.45 |
| Baking soda | 1 teaspoon | $0.05 |
| Cream of tartar | 1/2 teaspoon | $0.15 |
| Salt | 3/4 teaspoon | $0.02 |
| Sprinkles or colored sugar (optional) | a few tablespoons | $0.50 |
Total: around $6 for 30 cookies, assuming you already have flour and vanilla in the cupboard.
Steps
- Melt the butter in a light-colored saucepan over medium heat. Keep swirling. It will foam, then go quiet, then the bits at the bottom will turn golden brown and smell nutty, about 5 to 7 minutes. Pour it immediately into a large bowl, scraping in the brown bits.
- Let the butter cool for 15 minutes. It should be warm, not hot.
- Whisk in the granulated sugar and brown sugar until glossy, about a minute.
- Whisk in the egg, yolk and vanilla until smooth.
- In a separate bowl, or just on top, add the flour, baking soda, cream of tartar and salt. Stir with a spatula until no dry streaks remain. The dough will be soft.
- Cover and chill for at least an hour, or overnight. Overnight is better and splits the work across two evenings.
- Heat the oven to 350 (or whatever your dial needs to actually reach 350). Line two pans with parchment.
- Roll dough into balls about a tablespoon and a half each. Roll each one in sugar, or sugar mixed with sprinkles.
- Place 10 to 12 per pan, two inches apart. Bake one pan at a time, 9 to 11 minutes, rotating at the halfway mark. Pull them when the edges are set and the centers still look slightly underdone.
- Cool on the pan for 5 minutes, then move to a rack. If you don't own a rack, a clean dish towel on the table works.
Notes
- Cream of tartar gives these their slightly tangy, soft texture. If you don't have it, use 1 teaspoon baking powder instead of the cream of tartar and soda. They'll be puffier.
- Making ahead: dough keeps three days in the fridge, or freeze the rolled balls on a plate, then bag them. Bake from frozen, adding a minute or two.
- Storage: airtight tin, room temperature, up to five days. A slice of bread in the tin keeps them soft.
- Halving: works fine. Use one whole egg and skip the extra yolk.
Packing them up without fancy supplies
I save cookie tins and clean jars all year in a box under the bed, which is the one place in our apartment with unclaimed real estate. For gifts, a stack of cookies in a jar with a square of parchment and a bit of twine looks nice enough and costs nothing. The neighbors below us returned their jar the next day with a note and a handful of clementines, which is the kind of trade I'd make every week.
The last pan is out now. The kitchen is warm, the windows have fogged at the corners, and Olive has positioned herself at the exact spot on the floor where crumbs are most likely to fall. Sam came in from the cold, ate two cookies standing at the counter, and declared the edges "the best part," which is correct.
