Carrot Cake Cookies

I am writing about Marvin now — not in the book, in the journal. Writing about the early days: the first date at the Chinese restaurant in Queens, the blue tie, the fortune cookie. The first Shabbat dinner he came to, at Sylvia's apartment, where he ate three helpings of brisket and Sylvia said, "He eats. He'll do." The wedding, 1982, the dress Sylvia sewed, the suit from Delancey Street. The first night in this house, the two of us sitting on the kitchen floor eating pizza because the table hadn't been delivered yet. The writing about Marvin is the writing about us, and the writing about us is the preservation of us, because Marvin can no longer remember us, and the remembering falls to me, and the remembering requires writing, because memory is unreliable and writing is not, and the ink on the page will hold what the brain cannot.

David called to finalize the Cedarhurst arrangements. The room is reserved. The date is set: March 14th. The Ides of March, which is a literary reference that a woman who taught Shakespeare for forty-three years cannot ignore. Beware the Ides of March. I am not bewaring. I am preparing. I am preparing the way Sylvia prepared for Passover: with lists, with precision, with the focused determination of a woman who is going to do the hardest thing she has ever done and who is going to do it well, because Ruth Feldman does everything well, even the terrible things.

I made a pot of soup — no specific soup, just soup, whatever was in the refrigerator: onions, carrots, celery, chicken broth, whatever vegetables needed using, thrown into the pot with the abandon of a woman who does not have the emotional energy for precision tonight but who can always make soup, because soup is the default, soup is the baseline, soup is the floor below which Ruth Feldman does not fall.

The carrots from that soup — I had bought too many, the way I always do, the way Sylvia always did — and the ones left on the counter the next morning needed to go somewhere. I am preparing for March 14th the way Sylvia prepared for everything: by keeping my hands busy, by not letting things go to waste. These cookies are not the soup. They are the morning after the soup, when the kitchen is quiet and the writing is done for the night and something needs to be made, not because anyone is hungry exactly, but because making is what I do when I do not know what else to do.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 14 min | Total Time: 34 min | Servings: 24 cookies

Ingredients

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground nutmeg
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
3/4 cup packed light brown sugar
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 large egg, room temperature
1 tsp pure vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups finely shredded carrots (about 3 medium carrots)
1 cup old-fashioned rolled oats
Cream Cheese Frosting:
4 oz cream cheese, softened
1 cup powdered sugar, sifted
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1–2 tbsp milk, as needed for consistency

Instructions

Preheat the oven. Heat oven to 350°F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper and set aside.
Mix the dry ingredients. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, baking powder, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt until evenly combined.
Cream the butter and sugars. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter with the brown sugar and granulated sugar on medium speed until light and fluffy, about 2–3 minutes. Add the egg and vanilla and beat until incorporated.
Combine wet and dry. Add the flour mixture to the butter mixture and stir until just combined — do not overmix. Fold in the shredded carrots and rolled oats until evenly distributed throughout the dough.
Scoop and bake. Drop rounded tablespoons of dough onto the prepared baking sheets, spacing about 2 inches apart. Bake for 12–14 minutes, until the edges are set and the tops are just barely golden. The centers should look slightly underdone — they will firm as they cool.
Cool completely. Let the cookies rest on the baking sheet for 5 minutes before transferring to a wire rack. Allow to cool fully before frosting.
Make the frosting. Beat the softened cream cheese until smooth. Add the powdered sugar and vanilla and mix on low until incorporated, then increase speed and beat until fluffy. Add milk one tablespoon at a time if the frosting is too thick to spread.
Frost and serve. Spread a generous teaspoon of cream cheese frosting onto each cooled cookie. Serve immediately or refrigerate in a single layer. Cookies keep refrigerated for up to 4 days.

Nutrition (per serving)

Carrot Cake Cookies — The Carrots from the Soup, Turned Sweet