Chocolate Chip Skillet Cookie

My week. The Thanksgiving leftovers lasted until Wednesday and I am not ashamed. Monday night: turkey sandwiches on white bread with cranberry sauce and a little mayo. The kids ate them like they'd never seen food before, which is the highest compliment a leftover can receive. Tuesday: I pulled the remaining turkey off the bone, diced it, saut├⌐ed onions and celery, added cream of mushroom soup and frozen peas and poured it into a pie crust I bought from Kroger because I have not yet conquered pie crust and I'm man enough to admit it. Turkey pot pie. Aiden ate two slices. Zaria picked out the peas with the focus of a surgeon and ate everything else. Wednesday: the carcass. Into the pot with onion, celery, carrots, garlic, bay leaves. Turkey stock. I froze half and made soup with the other half Γçö egg noodles, leftover vegetables, herbs. Four days of meals from one bird. Mama would be proud. She'd never say it, but she'd be proud.

Thursday the kids went back to Brianna's. The handoff was fine Γçö we've gotten good at this, the driveway exchange, the backpacks and the "bye Daddy" and the wave from the backseat. It doesn't sting like it used to. It's just the shape of my life now. I came home and cleaned the kitchen and realized the apartment was too quiet again. I put on the Lions game. They're actually winning this year, which feels like a sign of something, though I don't know what.

Friday I did something I've been putting off. I drove through Rosedale Park Γçö the neighborhood west of us, the one with the brick bungalows and the big trees and the yards where kids actually play. I've been thinking about it since Aiden started school. Our apartment is fine. The neighborhood is fine. But "fine" is not what I want for my kids. I want a backyard. I want a block where Zaria can ride a bike without me holding my breath. I saw a "For Rent" sign on a three-bedroom bungalow and I slowed down but didn't stop. Not yet. The rent would be a stretch. Everything good is a stretch when you're a single dad on a factory salary. But I wrote down the cross streets on my phone and I've looked at them four times since.

Saturday I made a pot of chili. Ground beef and turkey mixed, kidney beans, tomato sauce, onion, garlic, cumin, chili powder, a little brown sugar, a splash of Worcestershire. Simmered for two hours with cornbread on the side. Ate it alone watching college football. The apartment smelled like something. Like someone lived here. That still matters to me Γçö the smell of cooking in a space, the proof that a home is being made. Even when the kids aren't here, I cook. Especially when the kids aren't here.

The chili was for survival — warm and filling and proof that I know what I’m doing in a kitchen. But after the bowl was empty and the cornbread was gone and the game was still on and the apartment was still quiet, I wanted something sweet. Something that made the oven work a little longer and kept the smell going. A chocolate chip skillet cookie is the kind of thing I’d normally make with the kids fighting over who gets to stir — but that Saturday I made it for myself, and I don’t feel bad about it. You cook to make a home. Sometimes the home just has one person in it that night.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted
3/4 cup packed light brown sugar
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 large egg plus 1 egg yolk, room temperature
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon fine salt
1 1/4 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips, divided

Instructions

Preheat oven. Heat oven to 350°F. Place a 10-inch cast iron skillet in the oven while it preheats so it gets warm.
Mix wet ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the melted butter, brown sugar, and granulated sugar until smooth and glossy, about 1 minute. Add the egg, egg yolk, and vanilla extract and whisk until fully combined and slightly thickened.
Add dry ingredients. Add the flour, baking soda, and salt directly to the bowl. Stir with a rubber spatula until just combined — do not overmix. Fold in 1 cup of the chocolate chips.
Fill the skillet. Carefully remove the warm skillet from the oven using oven mitts. Lightly grease it with a little butter or cooking spray. Transfer the dough into the skillet and spread it evenly with your spatula. Scatter the remaining 1/4 cup of chocolate chips over the top.
Bake. Return the skillet to the oven and bake for 22–26 minutes, until the edges are set and golden brown and the center looks just slightly underdone. It will firm up as it rests.
Rest and serve. Let the skillet cookie rest for at least 10 minutes before slicing into wedges. Serve warm, straight from the pan — with a scoop of vanilla ice cream if you’ve earned it.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chocolate Chip Skillet Cookie — Cooking for the Quiet