Every afternoon, Chris Morocco appears near my work station and prepares himself a snack. Multigrain bread, defrosted in the toaster, slathered with the dry dredges of a jar of almond butter. I understand his ritual from a survivalist point of view (we all need something to get us through that 3 p.m. slump), but I also can’t help but feel sorry for him. Life is meant to be lived. Snacks are meant to be enjoyed.
Recently my colleague Kate Kassin and I decided to take things into our own hands. How could we keep the benefits of Chris’s sad toast—fiber, healthy fats, sustaining carbs—and make something that actually tastes good? Our answer was a cookie.
We started experimenting in the Test Kitchen and set out to accomplish two things: It has to taste good and make you feel good. The former came easily, as I’ve developed hundreds of cookie recipes, including writing a whole book on them. But the latter was more difficult.
We started with a few-ingredient, gluten-free template—just nut butter, eggs, and a sweetener—as pioneered by bakeries like Ovenly. In this case, that meant almond butter (Chris’s favorite) and coconut sugar (Kate’s favorite). Then we incorporated some add-ins to make these cookies even more wholesome and sustaining.
A whopping ¾ cup of nuts and/or seeds go into the dough. Whatever is in your pantry/freezer works. Think sesame, pepitas, sunflower, hemp, and flax—the more variety the better. Just mix everything in one bowl, scoop onto a sheet pan, and bake until the edges are crisp, the centers chewy.
The resulting cookies are speckled like bird food (in a good way) and as fueling as a protein bar (without any of the weird ingredients).
One of my favorite parts of this recipe is that you can bake a batch, pop them into a zip-top bag, and stash them in the freezer. Then, whenever the inevitable midday slump strikes, you can dig one out, let it thaw at room temp for about 15 minutes, and enjoy. Because the recipe is mostly almond butter, the cookie will be just as chewy and crisp as the day it was baked. We can’t stop eating them. And neither can Chris.


