Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Oatmeal Cookies — The Sweet Side of an October Kitchen

October and the world is on fire — the good kind, the kind that happens to leaves. The maples along our street are fully turned now, red and orange and gold, and the sidewalks are a carpet of color that makes every walk feel like a parade. Portland in October is the city at its most generous, offering beauty without asking anything in return.

I made kabocha croquettes this week — Fumiko's recipe, one of my favorites. Kabocha squash mashed and mixed with sauteed onions and a little ground chicken, formed into rounds, breaded in panko, and deep-fried until golden and crispy. Inside, the filling is creamy and sweet and savory. Outside, the panko is shattering and golden. The contrast is addictive. I made twenty of them and Brian ate eight, which is either a compliment or a problem, depending on whether you are counting croquettes or counting the way Brian consumes things — food, beer, fun — without moderation, without pause, with an appetite that is both his greatest charm and his defining flaw.

After last week's conversation at the kitchen table, Brian and I have been trying. Trying looks like this: he came home on time three nights. He suggested we watch a movie together. He asked about my writing. Small gestures, each one a brick in a wall we are trying to rebuild. I am cautiously, carefully, anxiously hopeful. Hopeful is a dangerous state for someone with my brain, because hope invites disappointment the way an open window invites rain. But I am leaving the window open. I am letting the rain be possible. This is either courage or foolishness and the difference will not be clear for years.

Fumiko called about the essay. She read it. She said, "You described my kitchen accurately." From Fumiko, "accurately" is the Pulitzer Prize. She did not say she was proud. She did not say she was moved. She said "accurately." And then she was quiet for a moment, and in the quiet I heard something I have never heard from Fumiko before: the sound of a woman who has been seen. Not critiqued. Seen. I put her kitchen in words and she read the words and she knew that I had been paying attention, all those years, all those visits, all those bowls of miso soup. I was paying attention. I was always paying attention. And now she knows.

The croquettes were Fumiko’s, and they always will be — I’m not going to put her recipe here, because some things belong to the person who taught them to you. But kabocha had its hands in my kitchen all week, and when Saturday came and Brian and I were being careful with each other in the way you are careful with something you don’t want to break again, I wanted something sweet, something approachable, something I could make a lot of and leave on the counter as an open invitation. These pumpkin oatmeal cookies — soft and golden and full of chocolate — are October in a single bite, and they asked nothing of me except that I pay attention to the oven timer.

Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Oatmeal Cookies

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 13 minutes | Total Time: 28 minutes | Servings: 48 cookies

Ingredients

• 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature
• 1 cup granulated sugar
• 1 cup packed light brown sugar
• 1 cup pumpkin puree (not pumpkin pie filling)
• 2 large eggs
• 1 tsp pure vanilla extract
• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 tsp baking soda
• 1 tsp baking powder
• 1 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp ground nutmeg
• 1/4 tsp ground cloves
• 1/2 tsp fine salt
• 3 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
• 2 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips

Instructions

1. Preheat the oven. Heat your oven to 350°F (175°C). Line two baking sheets with parchment paper and set aside.
2. Cream the butter and sugars. In a large bowl using a hand mixer or stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, beat the softened butter, granulated sugar, and brown sugar together on medium speed for 2–3 minutes until light and fluffy.
3. Add the wet ingredients. Add the pumpkin puree, eggs, and vanilla extract to the butter mixture. Beat on medium speed until fully combined, scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed. The mixture may look slightly broken — that’s okay.
4. Whisk the dry ingredients. In a separate medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, baking powder, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and salt until evenly combined.
5. Combine wet and dry. Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and mix on low speed just until no dry streaks remain. Do not overmix.
6. Fold in the oats and chocolate chips. Using a wooden spoon or spatula, stir in the rolled oats and chocolate chips until evenly distributed throughout the dough.
7. Portion the cookies. Drop rounded tablespoons of dough onto the prepared baking sheets, spacing them about 2 inches apart. Gently flatten each mound slightly with the back of a spoon — these cookies don’t spread much on their own.
8. Bake. Bake for 11–13 minutes, until the edges are set and the tops look just barely dry. The centers will look underdone — that’s correct. They firm up as they cool.
9. Cool on the pan. Let the cookies cool on the baking sheet for 5 minutes before transferring to a wire rack. They are fragile when warm. Cool completely before stacking or storing.
10. Store. Store in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 5 days, or freeze for up to 3 months.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 148 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 21g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 72mg