Chocolate Lava Chocolate Chip Cookie Cups

The first week of May, and James's graduation is Saturday. The week has the electric quality of a countdown — the house vibrating with preparation, the menu finalized, the good china washed, the guest list small (Naomi, Robert, Mama, Elise) but sufficient, because sufficiency is the lesson the pandemic taught and the lesson the family learned and the lesson I will not forget.

James came home on Wednesday, his last night as an undergraduate, his last sleep in the bed he has slept in since he was a boy. He stood in his room and looked at Robert's bookshelf — the graduation gift from high school, now full, every shelf occupied — and he said, "Mom, I need more shelves," and the sentence was both a request and a statement of growth, because the needing of more shelves means the reading has exceeded the furniture, and the exceeding is the education.

I have been cooking all week — the graduation dinner in stages, the way I cook every important meal: the dessert first (the chocolate cake, three layers, made Wednesday), the sides next (the collard greens, started Thursday), the main course last (the fried chicken, made Saturday morning, in Mama's cast-iron skillet, with Mama sitting in her chair, not directing anymore but present, and the presence is the direction now, the body in the kitchen saying "I am here" when the mouth cannot say "more cayenne").

Mama was dressed for the graduation — pearl earrings, the blue dress, the outfit she has worn for every important occasion for as long as I can remember. She did not know it was graduation. She did not know whose. But she was dressed, because Ruth dressed her, and Ruth understood that the dressing was the participation, and the participation was the dignity, and the dignity was the gift that Ruth gives Mama every day: the insistence that the woman inside the disease is still a woman who deserves pearls.

I made the graduation dinner: fried chicken, collard greens, mac and cheese, cornbread, three-layer chocolate cake. The table held five. The meal was the same meal I have made for every graduation in this family. The sameness was the honor. The honor was the food.

In our house, I always start with the dessert — it is the anchor of every important meal, the thing that says this occasion is worth the planning. For James’s graduation I made the chocolate cake three days ahead, and that act of beginning with sweetness is something I carry into every celebration kitchen. These Chocolate Lava Chocolate Chip Cookie Cups hold that same spirit: you make them with care, you make them ahead of the noise, and when the table is finally set and the people you love are finally seated, you bring out the thing that says the day was worth honoring.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 27 min | Servings: 12

Ingredients

1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
3/4 cup granulated sugar
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
2 large eggs
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon fine salt
2 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips, divided
12 chocolate peppermint patties or chocolate truffle squares (one per cup)
Nonstick cooking spray
Powdered sugar or flaky sea salt, for finishing (optional)

Instructions

Preheat oven. Heat your oven to 350°F. Generously spray a standard 12-cup muffin tin with nonstick cooking spray, making sure to coat the sides well so the cups release cleanly.
Cream butter and sugars. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter with both sugars on medium speed until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Scrape down the sides of the bowl as needed.
Add eggs and vanilla. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Mix in the vanilla extract until fully incorporated.
Combine dry ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, and salt. Gradually add the dry mixture to the butter mixture, stirring just until a soft dough forms — do not overmix.
Fold in chocolate chips. Stir in 1 1/2 cups of the chocolate chips, reserving the remaining 1/2 cup for topping.
Fill muffin cups. Scoop roughly 2 tablespoons of dough into each prepared muffin cup and press it down to form a base. Place one chocolate truffle or peppermint patty in the center of each cup, pressing it gently into the dough. Top each with another tablespoon of dough and press the edges to seal the chocolate center inside.
Top with chips. Press a few of the reserved chocolate chips into the top of each cookie cup for a finished look.
Bake. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes, until the edges are just set and golden but the centers still look slightly underdone — this is what gives you the lava effect. Do not overbake.
Cool briefly, then release. Let the cups cool in the pan for exactly 5 minutes — no longer, or they will stick. Run a thin knife around the edges and lift each cup out gently onto a serving platter.
Serve warm. Dust with powdered sugar or a pinch of flaky sea salt if desired. Serve immediately for a fully molten center, or allow to cool to room temperature where the lava will set into a soft fudgy core.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chocolate Lava Chocolate Chip Cookie Cups — The Dessert Made First, for James