Cookies are the smallest and simplest of desserts. There is not much to them—a swift baking time, basic ingredients, and little patience or intuition required. They are found in abundance at bake sales and in Christmas tins. You can buy boxes of them at the store.

And yet no one takes a cookie without a smile. When the nights grow cold and the light fades, we huddle around the oven and bake batches of them. Tiny sweets, devoured in a few bites, found everywhere. A simple pleasure.

Perhaps it is a relief that cookies are so simple. A grand layer cake is stunning, but there will not always be time or money or energy for cake, and so we make cookies, simple cookies.

Simple pleasures. They are found in abundance, as cookies are, but when all we have our eyes on is the cake, it is easy to forget about them. There are long waits between cakes, and without cookies, they can feel grim and dark and cold.

Cakes are not everything. There will be wonderful times, but there will also be simply good times—and plenty of them, if you are patient and look for them. This recipe makes lots of cookies: two-dozen simple pleasures for those between-cake times. For each of these cookies, I could name a hundred simple things to love. The whisper of the pines in the winter wind. The silence of a snowstorm. The first sip from a mug of hot tea. Ripe huckleberries. Basking in the golden sunshine of an early summer day. Dogs. The scent of lavender. Cookies baking in the oven on a rainy night.

When you make these cookies, feel the thyme leaves between your fingers, the rich smoothness of the chocolate, the fresh glow of lemon in the air. Stir with all the love you save for the best moments, the cake kind of times, and sprinkle it throughout the okay ones. There will always be room for cake—and once the cake has gone and passed, there will be room for cookies, too.

Enjoy

Based off of Alison Roman’s famous Salted Butter and Chocolate Chunk Shortbread

Ingredients

• 1 cup and 2 tablespoons (2 and 1/4 sticks) salted butter, slightly colder than room temperature
• 1 teaspoon vanilla
• 1/4 cup brown sugar, packed
• 1/3 cup granulated sugar
• Zest of 1 lemon
• 2 and 1/4 cups all purpose flour
• Roughly 2 and 1/2 tablespoons fresh thyme (it doesn’t have to be exact—I guessed on this measurement, add more or less to taste)
• 4 oz bittersweet chocolate, roughly chopped
• 2 oz unsweetened chocolate, roughly chopped
• Flaky sea salt for topping

Directions

1. In a large bowl, beat butter, brown sugar, white sugar, vanilla, and lemon zest until fluffy
2. Add flour and beat on low until coarse, crumbly chunks are formedF
3. Fold with a spatula or wooden spoon until dough begins to stick together, then fold in chocolate and thyme
4. Divide the dough into two equal parts. Roughly shape one into a log, then place on plastic wrap and roll into an even log shape about 1 and 1/2 inches thick. Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate, then repeat will second part.
5. Chill for at least thirty minutes (up to two days)
6. Preheat oven to 350 F and line a baking sheet with parchment or silicone. Using a serrated knife, cut each log into roughly 1/4-1/2 inch cookies. Place on baking sheet, sprinkle with sea salt, and bake nine minutes, rotating pan after four minutes
7. Let cool for about five minutes, then transfer to a cooling rack and cool for about ten minutes