How to Make Molasses Cookies

Has the miles of scrolling required to unearth a recipe on the internet from its confines of exposition left you battling feelings of frustration and abject pain? This has been experienced by 100% of the common citizens poled (the three students unlucky enough to be in J-top at 9:30 a few Tuesdays ago) and always culminates in impatience as fingers cramp and we are inevitably left to settle in amongst the ads and recommended articles at the website’s end, having missed the recipe entirely and used more than a few of the seconds remaining before Jesus’ return. But, as the wise say, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. 

How to make molasses cookies: 

(With exposition) 

Step one: Close your eyes. No wait, open them to keep reading. You’re a fisherman in the 1800s. You must have an unreasonable amount of nieces and nephews because the whole town refers to you as Uncle Joe. You live by a frog pond. You have your own trademark cookies you call Joe Froggers. Life is good. Your recipe is leaked eventually, but that’s okay. Keeping secrets is stressful. You know what’s not stressful? A good cookie. Mmm. Maybe today we’ll make some cookies…. 

Alright, if you’ve closed your two normal eyes and are reading this through your omniscient third eye, go ahead and open the others too. You may continue to channel Uncle Joe if you want, but consider that he likely doesn’t know how to operate an oven and this recipe calls for one. Shh, it’s okay Uncle Joe. I’m sure if you’d been born in 2004, you too would be fluent in the oven language. 

Speaking of ovens, preheat yours to 350˚F.  

Now let’s get a bowl. The bigger, the better. There’s nothing worse than misjudging the size of your baking project and there’s nothing better than finally giving that truly massive bowl you never use some love. 

Alright, on to step… Okay on to the next step. Melt 3/4 cup of shortening. Classy people (like my grandma) use Crisco, but classy people on a budget (like me) might use the store brand variety and call it good. Do not—I repeat! DO NOT!—stick your hand in the shortening to see if it’s melted! I know people who do this (definitely not me). It’s hazardous to your health! Look with your eyes to see if it’s melted instead! 
Add 1 cup of brown sugar to your shortening. I love brown sugar. It’s just like white sugar only brown. And it makes fun sugar castles in your ocean of shortening.

Add 1/4 cup of molasses. Look! Here he is! The star of the show! I have no advice for getting it from the jar to the measuring cup. I have never once done it in a clean and efficient way. Just accept that your hands will be sticky for the rest of this process. Use your finger to get every last bit of it out and into the bowl. No, don’t use a spatula. This is the way Uncle Joe intended.  

Now add 1 egg. Just crack it and move on. Shells give your baking a certain je ne sais quoi. Not the kind of quoi you want to present to your maybe-possibly-soon boy/girlfriend, but quoi nonetheless.  

Mixing time! Mix, mix, mix, mix, mix.  

Now, the official recipe handed down through generation upon generation of Ganoungs says to sift your dry ingredients, but I’ve never sifted anything in my life and it’s too late to get a decent batting average now. Just make sure your flour isn’t packed down.  

Ah, yes. Flour. We’ll come back to that. 

For now, salt! 1/4 teaspoon of it. Just like people, pretty much all baking recipes have a bit of salt in them. Appreciate it, savor it. We wouldn’t have things any other way. 

Now, 2 teaspoons of baking soda. My favorite thing in the world used to be getting baking soda out of the box. So satisfying. And in this recipe, you get to do it twice! Or more times, if you want, but it’s a little weird to measure out sixteen 1/8 teaspoons. Maybe take it easy. 

Add 1 teaspoon of ginger and 1 of cinnamon. Add 1/2 teaspoon of cloves. Why are spices always stored on high shelves and why are they always so hard to tell apart? Would it really change the recipe much to add cayenne instead…? Oh, I feel Uncle Joe shaking his head beyond the grave. Guess we’ll stick to the recipe.  

Okay back to the flour. The amount of flour you’ll use depends on a lot of things: how wet your egg was, the humidity, the current tilt of the earth towards the sun, okay maybe all eggs are equally wet but that doesn’t sound scientific, does it? Whatever science you believe, start with 2 cups of white flour. Don’t pack it down, remember? Mix that in. Is your dough still sticky? More flour. Keep it coming until your dough is a stiff ball and there’s no possible way to add any more. You’ll know for sure if your arm is ready to drop out of its socket.  

Next step: eat some dough. Wow, that’s good. Eat some more. What are you gonna do with three dozen cookies, anyway? Might as well get some out of the way now.  

Now chill the dough. Maybe chill with the dough. Stop eating it! We have to have something to bake! 

A recipe I found cross-researching on the internet said to line your pans with parchment paper, but I’m going to step in and say that’s something fancy people do when they aren’t on a budget. Get out your non-stick spray. If your budget is too tight to include this as well, you can always just drop your dough on organically, but fair warning, your cookies will become one with your pan. If your ideal afternoon involves cookies and chisel, this is a win-win.  

Roll the dough into balls. They can be as big as you’d like. It depends on how much adventure you need in your afternoon. I personally go for about an inch in diameter, but I’ve also never been able to eyeball a measurement in my life, so don’t take my word for it. Maybe you can try channeling Uncle Joe again.

At this point, you can roll your cookies in sugar. I never did this growing up, but my parents were also the kind of people that eat oatmeal with no toppings. Place your cookies—sugared or not—onto the baking sheet. You can space them out however you want, but I’m legally obligated to let you know that molasses cookies are painfully single and, when put too close together, may try to make love connections. Three inches is usually enough to dissuade them. My sources say that the Minnesotans have a secret art that involves flicking water on the cookies to ensure they crack. My other source says you can just bang the pan on the counter a couple times after they come out of the oven instead. “It’d break them for sure.” —Hannah Ethridge, 2023, 7:50 pm. Do what you want, I guess.  

In the oven they go! Nice work! Now let’s do some homework. Get out that Old Testament. Hmm…fifteen chapters by Monday… OH! THE TIMER! Set a timer for nine minutes. Okay, your cookies won’t be done, but I need you to return to the kitchen after seven minutes so you give yourself plenty of time to take a lot of deep breaths. Man, if only all of Seward smelled like this. You can also watch your cookies but I’ve been told there’s scientific evidence that says they bake slower that way. No, I don’t have any sources. Yes, it was something my mom told me, and I’m inclined to believe her.  

When your timer goes off, get a hot pad—or whatever miscellaneous nearby item will protect your hand. If you’re in the dorms, I recommend a thick sock. Remove the cookies. Scrutinize the cookies the way you’ll someday scrutinize the plate your child insisted they scrubbed clean. Shake the pan so the cookies wobble around. Trust me, this is the most important part of the baking process. If the cookies are done, their edges won’t wobble like the middle. If you still aren’t sure, just remember, Proverbs says “trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.” If the Lord is telling you to give them a few more minutes, do so. If you were planning to try the pan banging, give it a go now. Otherwise, set them aside to cool. 

This recipe makes about 3 dozen cookies, give or take a few depending on the amount consumed prematurely. Taste them now. Eat a few fast, then take a second to savor one. Wow! Those are good! You did that! Unless they’re bad. In that extremely unlikely case, you can go ahead and blame me. Make sure you share some of those around (especially if they’re bad, you’ll get rid of them faster that way). Three dozen is a lot of cookies. Can’t let those get stale after all your hard work. A job well done, I’m sure. Uncle Joe agrees. 

In the spirit of online recipes, it is only now, at the end of many many pages of seemingly unnecessary explanation and exposition, I present you with the condensed recipe. I sure hope you didn’t scroll too far and hit all those ads…. 

Molasses Cookies 

3/4 c shortening  2 t baking soda 

1 c brown sugar  1 t ginger 

1/4 c molasses  1 t cinnamon 

2–2 1/4 c four  1/2 t cloves 

1/4 t salt 

Melt shortening. Add sugar, molasses, and egg. Mix. Sift other ingredients and add to above mixture. Chill Dough. Form into balls and bake on lightly greased cookie sheet. Bake 8-10 minutes at 350˚. Cool for 2 minutes before removing from cookie sheet. Makes 3 dozen.  

Find more blog content here.