Pull Up a Chair: Let’s Talk Chewy Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies

I swear, every time I bake these chewy oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, my kitchen turns into a sort of snack-fueled town square. The cats show up. The neighbors invent reasons to knock. My brother (who apparently has a sixth sense for this stuff) rings the bell right when the smell hits the hallway. Honestly, I think making these cookies is how I keep up with my extended family—cookies as social glue? Never underestimate their powers.

Anyway, these are not the perfectly crisp, fancy-stack-style cookies you’ll see in posh bakeries. They’re homey, slightly rustic, and they have this gloriously chewy texture that constantly gets my glasses all fogged up when I sneak one straight from the baking tray (which I do… a lot). Side note: once as a teen I forgot the baking soda and ended up with these weird oatmeal discs that could’ve doubled as drink coasters. Not my finest moment—but hey, we learn!

Why I Keep Making These (and Maybe You Will Too)

I bake these when the weather’s dreary or—on second thought—even when it isn’t, because my niece claims they’re better than pudding (though I suspect she just says that for cookies). My family goes positively bonkers for them, especially when I don’t overbake (burnt bottoms are a sore topic). There’s just something about the combo of oats and melty chocolate chips—comfort food without being in-your-face sweet. And they don’t require any advanced degrees in pastry arts, which, if you know me, is a must.

If I’m in a rush or feeling slightly lazy (happens more than I’d like to admit), I use fewer bowls and even eyeball a bit of the vanilla—hasn’t failed me yet, knock on wood.

Alright, Here’s What You’ll Need (Substitutions Welcome)

1 cup (225g) unsalted butter, softened (I have melted it when in a pinch—makes them slightly flatter, but no one complained!)
1 1/4 cups (250g) packed brown sugar (light or dark works, honestly, sometimes I do half white sugar if that’s all that’s in the pantry)
2 large eggs (once made them with 1 duck egg; the cookies were…interesting)
2 teaspoons vanilla extract (imitation is fine if that’s all you’ve got—Grandma would disagree, but what can you do?)
1 3/4 cups (220g) flour (I’ve swapped a third for whole wheat for a, let’s say, sturdier cookie)
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt (if you like salty-sweet, go wild and use a whole teaspoon)
2 1/4 cups (215g) old-fashioned oats (quick oats work too, but result is a bit less toothsome)
1 1/2 cups (225g) chocolate chips—semisweet, milk, or a mix if you’re feeling rebellious!
Optional: 1/2 cup chopped pecans or walnuts (or sunflower seeds, which I tried once in a panic—turned out okay, weirdly?)
Optional: a sprinkle of cinnamon; my mate swears it’s the secret, but jury’s still out for me

This Is How I Put Them Together (With a Few of My Quirks)

First off, preheat your oven to 350°F (that’s 175°C if you’re living metric). Line a couple of trays with baking parchment. Or foil in a pinch—I’ve done that, just grease it a bit.
In a big-ish bowl, cream the butter with the brown sugar using a hand mixer (or a good old wooden spoon, though the arm workout is no joke). It should look kind of fluffy—that’s when I usually steal a fingerful (yes, it’s raw, sorry Mum).
Beat in the eggs and vanilla. If your eggs are still fridge-cold, don’t stress—they’ll mix in fine, maybe just use a little elbow grease.
Stir together the flour, baking soda, and salt in a separate bowl. Add this to the wet mix and beat it in, but don’t overdo it—a few streaks are fine. The dough looks a bit weird at this point, sort of like it can’t decide if it’s cake or cookie dough; that’s normal.
Fold in the oats, chocolate chips, and whatever nuts (or not) you like. The dough should be thick; if it’s soupy, stick it in the fridge for ten minutes. Or if you’re impatient, just bake and accept thinner cookies (not the worst turn of events, trust me).
Scoop hefty tablespoons (roughly walnut-sized, very scientific) onto your trays. No need to fuss about perfect balls—wobbly blobs seem to bake best (but if you like uniform, well, you do you).
Bake for 10-12 minutes, turning the pans if your oven has hot spots. Pull them out when they’re golden at the edges but still slightly gooey in the middle—resist the urge to keep baking; they set more as they cool. I once ignored this and ended up with hockey pucks.
Let them cool on the tray for a couple minutes, then move to a wire rack if you have one. If not, they’ll cool fine on the tray—who needs extra washing up anyway?

If the dough seems too sticky, a quick rest in the fridge helps. But sometimes I skip this and it’s still fine.
Swapping half the chocolate chips for raisins once sounded healthy, but honestly, I missed the chocolate. Your mileage may vary.
Don’t panic if your cookies look underbaked when you take them out—they really do set up magically as they cool.
Actually, I find it works better if you slightly underbake, especially for the chewy effect.

Some Variations I’ve Fooled Around With (Some Hits, Some Misses)

Chopped dried cherries instead of some chips—amazing, tangy, highly recommended.
Added peanut butter—made them extra soft but also a bit crumbly; nice with milk though.
Swapped all-purpose flour for oat flour once, thinking I was a genius, but it made them super dense. Too much oat is a mistake unless you like your cookies stubbornly sturdy.
White or butterscotch chips? Pretty lush. Coconut flakes? Jury’s still out; maybe I just need to toast them first next time.

The Gear I Use (and Some Cheeky Substitutes)

Mixing bowl—if you only have one, use it for everything; just wipe between steps, no one will know
Hand mixer or sturdy spoon—if your mixer’s playing up, rolling up your sleeves works
Baking trays and parchment (or foil, or even a silicone mat)
Wire cooling rack if you’ve got it—otherwise the back of a large tray kind of does the job
Tablespoon or ice cream scoop—tea spoons also work (been there, done that)

How to Store These (If You Get the Chance)

Okay, technically you should cool these cookies completely and store them in an airtight tin or container. They’ll stay chewy for maybe 3-4 days. I’ve read you can freeze the dough too (see helpful guide on Sally’s Baking Addiction), but to be honest, they never last that long in my place—by the next morning, half are usually gone!

How We Serve ‘Em

Honestly, warm from the oven with a glass of cold milk is unbeatable. My cousin dunks hers in tea (a solid move—very British). I like stacking a couple with vanilla ice cream in the middle when I’m feeling extra, but they’re grand just on their own. If you manage to save some for later, apparently they taste even better the next day. Not that I have strong evidence to back that up!

Things I Wished I Knew the First Time (AKA Pro-Tips)

I once tried skipping the parchment and, well, cookie cement is no fun to scrape off. Parchment or greasing is worth it, trust me.
Don’t rush the mixing. Once I dumped in everything at once to save time, and I ended up with weird texture pockets. Take it in steps; it’s worth the few extra minutes.
If you add nuts, give them a rough chop first, or you’ll get surprise mouthfuls. Maybe you like that? I don’t.

The Questions I Actually Get (and Some I Made Up)

Can I use instant oats?: Yeah, in a pinch, though the cookies end up softer and less chewy. Still tasty—it’s not a tragedy.
Do I have to chill the dough?: Nope! I almost never do—unless it’s sticky like porridge. Dough chilling makes thicker cookies, so if that’s your thing, go for it.
Is it fine to swap chocolate for raisins?: Sure, though I miss the chocolate when I do. A mix is good, too (see Food52’s oatmeal raisin recipe—solid jump-off point).
Can I use oil instead of butter?: Technically yes, but the flavor’s not quite the same—wouldn’t be my first pick. Butter = the good stuff.
Do I need a stand mixer?: No. Honestly, just a bowl and spoon does it if you’re willing to stir.
How many does this make?: Depending how much dough you sneak, about 24 chunky cookies. Or 20 if you’re heavy-handed (guilty as charged).

Quick digression before you go: once tried baking these for a charity bake sale and dropped the tray face down on the kitchen floor. Still sold out; turns out a few crumbs are no bother when you’ve got great flavor. Anyway, have fun baking, and if you run into a mishap, just call it a “signature touch.” That’s what I do!