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Oatmeal Molasses Crisps — Learning Candy, One Batch at a Time

Mid-October and the leaves are turning. Alabama fall is gentler than what you see in pictures of New England but it is real and it is beautiful, the oaks going brown and orange and the pecans dropping in the yard at Gloria and James house, which means pecan-shelling Sunday is coming.

I heard from UAB this week: I have been accepted for spring semester. I sat in the parking lot of the daycare and read the email and did not move for five minutes. Accepted. Transferring. Four-year degree. I am going to get a four-year degree.

I called Gloria from the parking lot. She answered on the second ring. I said they took me and she made a sound I have never heard from her before, something between a laugh and a sob, quiet and surprised, and then she said: Savannah. Just my name. She said my whole name. She has called me baby and girl and sweet girl but she has not often said my whole name like that. I said I know. We stayed on the phone for a minute without talking and that was exactly right.

Made pecan pralines this week, which is a Southern candy that requires a candy thermometer and confidence and a quick hand at the end when you drop them. Mine were a little uneven but glossy and nutty and tasted exactly like they should. I brought them to Sunday and James ate five. Gloria tasted one and said: you have learned candy. She means it as a category of skill. I have learned candy. I will add that to the list.

Gloria said I have learned candy, and I have been turning that over in my mind all week — the idea that candy is its own category of skill, something you either know or you’re still working toward. The pralines were the milestone, but once you’ve learned to trust a hot sugar mixture and your own instincts, you want to keep going. These Oatmeal Molasses Crisps felt like the natural next step: thin and lacey and a little unpredictable at the edges, just like the pralines, but simpler — something I could make on a Tuesday evening with the UAB acceptance still warm in my chest and the pecan trees still dropping outside Gloria and James’s yard.

Oatmeal Molasses Crisps

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 10 min | Total Time: 25 min | Servings: 36 cookies

Ingredients

  • 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
  • 1 cup granulated sugar
  • 1/4 cup unsulfured molasses
  • 1 large egg
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 1 1/2 cups old-fashioned rolled oats
  • 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
  • 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
  • 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt

Instructions

  1. Preheat oven. Heat oven to 350°F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper and set aside.
  2. Cream butter and sugar. In a large bowl, beat softened butter and granulated sugar together until light and fluffy, about 2–3 minutes. Scrape down the sides of the bowl as needed.
  3. Add wet ingredients. Beat in the molasses, egg, and vanilla extract until fully combined and smooth.
  4. Mix dry ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together the rolled oats, flour, baking soda, cinnamon, ginger, and salt.
  5. Combine. Gradually stir the dry mixture into the wet mixture until a soft, cohesive dough forms. Do not overmix.
  6. Drop and space. Drop rounded teaspoons of dough onto prepared baking sheets, spacing at least 2 inches apart — these crisps spread significantly as they bake.
  7. Bake. Bake for 9–11 minutes, until the edges are set and lightly browned and the centers look just barely done. They will firm up as they cool.
  8. Cool completely. Let cookies rest on the baking sheet for 5 minutes before transferring to a wire rack. They will crisp up fully as they cool — resist the urge to stack them too soon.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 78 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 3g | Carbs: 12g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 42mg

Savannah Clarke
About the cook who shared this
Savannah Clarke
Week 133 of Savannah’s 30-year story · Prattville, Alabama
Savannah is twenty-seven, engaged, and a daycare worker in Prattville, Alabama, who grew up in foster care and never had a kitchen to call her own until she was nineteen. She taught herself to cook from YouTube videos and church cookbooks, and now she makes fried chicken that would make your grandmother jealous. She writes for the girls who grew up like her — without a family recipe box, without a mama in the kitchen, without anyone to show them how. She's showing them now.

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