Caramel Whiskey Cookies

September and the shift. I can write this every year because it's true every year: the light changes in September. Lower angle, longer shadow, the afternoons going from summer's direct brightness to autumn's considered gold. The trees are beginning to think. Not full color yet — weeks away — but here and there a maple showing the first flush of red, the first admission that the year is turning.

The apple cider pressing happened this weekend at the Hendersons'. The same ritual: my Macs in boxes in the truck, the drive over, the press running with the pleasant violence of it, twelve gallons of sweet cider going into jugs. I drank two glasses fresh, standing in the barn, and mailed a gallon to Bill from Maine, who has been hearing about Vermont apple cider for two years and had never tasted the real thing. He called four days later from Maine to say he'd understood why I kept talking about it. I said: now you understand. He said: I'm going to plant apple trees. I said: good. They'll be ready in five years.

Blog post this week: an essay about September, about what the shift means in a farm year, about the particular quality of this month that people tend to overlook in favor of October's spectacle. It found a readership, as the seasonal posts tend to. The September essays seem to resonate with people who are also paying attention to the subtle transitions rather than the obvious ones.

Teddy's first high school cooking project: he made dinner for his family on Sunday — a proper three-course meal, soup to dessert. He texted each course as it went to the table. The soup was French onion. I told him: you've come a long way from risotto. He said: risotto was only two years ago. I said: two years is a long way at fifteen.

After a day at the cider press and two glasses of the fresh stuff still sweet on my tongue, I wanted something to bake that would hold up next to it—something warm and a little sharp, the way September itself is. These caramel whiskey cookies are what I came back to. They’re the kind of thing you set on the counter with a jug of cider and let people find on their own, and nobody walks past without taking one.

Prep Time: 25 minutes | Cook Time: 12 minutes | Total Time: 37 minutes | Servings: 24 cookies

Ingredients

1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
3/4 cup brown sugar, packed
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 large egg
1 egg yolk
2 tablespoons whiskey
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup caramel bits or chopped soft caramels
1/2 cup toffee bits
Flaky sea salt, for topping

Instructions

Cream the butter and sugars. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter, brown sugar, and granulated sugar together until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes.
Add the wet ingredients. Beat in the egg and egg yolk, then mix in the whiskey and vanilla extract until combined.
Combine the dry ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, and salt. Gradually add the dry mixture to the wet mixture, stirring until just combined.
Fold in the caramel and toffee. Gently fold the caramel bits and toffee bits into the dough with a spatula.
Chill the dough. Cover and refrigerate the dough for at least 30 minutes. This helps the cookies hold their shape and intensifies the flavors.
Preheat and scoop. Preheat your oven to 350°F. Line baking sheets with parchment paper. Scoop rounded tablespoons of dough onto the sheets, spacing them about 2 inches apart.
Bake. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes, until the edges are set and golden but the centers still look slightly underdone. They will firm up as they cool.
Finish with salt. Remove from the oven and immediately sprinkle a few flakes of sea salt over each cookie. Let cool on the baking sheet for 5 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack.

Nutrition (per serving)

Caramel Whiskey Cookies — Baking Through the September Shift