Peanut Butter Blossoms Cookie Recipe

New Year's, baby. Black-eyed peas for luck. Greens for money. Cornbread because cornbread. The Simms tradition holds. I cooked it the way Bernice cooked it for me when I was small. The peas with smoked turkey neck. The greens with vinegar at the end. Calvin and I ate at the kitchen table on January 1st with the year ahead of us and the year behind us and the food connecting them.

Calvin preached Sunday on the loaves and fishes. The church said amen. I talked to Mama at the stove. I told her the recipe was right. I told her the kitchen was holding. The cast iron skillet hummed.

Sweet potato pie Friday. Bernice's recipe. The crust by hand. The filling by feel. The pie was the pie.

Sunday dinner held. The table held. The chair was set.

The kitchen smelled like garlic and onion all afternoon Wednesday. Calvin came home from his Bible study and stood in the doorway and said, Loretta, what are we eating. I said, baby, you will see. He said, that is a yes from me. He has been saying that for fifty years.

Calvin Jr. called Tuesday night. He was tired. He had been at work twelve hours. I told him, baby, eat something. He said, Mama, I will. I said, what did you eat last. He said, a granola bar. I said, baby, that is not eating. He laughed.

Bernice's Table Tuesday. The team was sharp. The food held. The room held.

I sat on the porch Saturday afternoon. The neighborhood was quiet. Mr. Henderson across the street waved. I waved back. The porches are the original social network, sugar. We have been at this since Eden.

Doris called Thursday. Three times a week, the standard. We talked about Calvin's health. We talked about Harold's health. We talked about the family. We talked about what I was cooking.

The garden in the side yard, sugar. The tomatoes are coming on. The okra is up. The collards are getting big. I will be canning by August. I always say I am not going to can. I always end up canning.

Sunday after service Calvin and I drove past the new sanctuary site. The choir loft windows were going in. We sat in the car and looked. He did not speak. I did not speak. The watching was the prayer.

I stood at the kitchen window with my coffee Tuesday morning. Six o'clock. The light just coming. The yard quiet. Talking to Mama about the day ahead. The talking is its own prayer, sugar.

I had a small cry Wednesday morning at the kitchen window. No reason in particular. The grief comes when it comes. I made coffee. I went on. That is how this works.

Sister Beulah came by Tuesday afternoon to drop off the bulletins. She stayed for coffee. We talked about the church, about her grandbaby, about the heat. The visit was the visit.

A young woman from the new members class came to me Sunday. She was nervous. She said, Mother Simms, my husband and I are expecting our first and I do not know how to cook. I said, baby, come to the Saturday class. She said, I'm coming. The chain extends.

A new young wife joined the Saturday cooking class. Twenty-two years old. She does not know how to make rice. I will teach her. The chain extends.

I have been thinking about heaven a lot lately. I do not know what I think. I know what Calvin preaches. I know what the AME doctrine says. I know what my Mama believed. I am at the age, sugar, where heaven is more than a Sunday school answer. I am working on it.

That young wife who came to me Sunday — the one expecting her first, the one who said she did not know how to cook — she is exactly who I think of when I make these. Peanut Butter Blossoms are where I start every new class, because the dough is forgiving and the results are beautiful and nothing builds a nervous cook’s confidence like pulling a perfect tray from the oven herself. Bernice started me the same way, sugar — with something that could not lie to you. The chain extends.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 12 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 36 cookies

Ingredients

1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened
3/4 cup creamy peanut butter
1/3 cup granulated sugar, plus extra for rolling
1/3 cup packed light brown sugar
1 large egg
2 tablespoons whole milk
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon fine salt
36 milk chocolate candy kisses, unwrapped

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Heat your oven to 375°F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper and set aside. Unwrap all your chocolate kisses before you begin — you will need them ready the moment the cookies come out.
Cream the butter and sugars. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter, peanut butter, granulated sugar, and brown sugar together until light and fluffy, about 2 to 3 minutes. Scrape down the sides of the bowl as needed.
Add wet ingredients. Beat in the egg, milk, and vanilla extract until fully combined and smooth.
Incorporate the dry ingredients. Add the flour, baking soda, and salt to the bowl. Stir or beat on low until a soft dough forms. Do not overmix.
Shape the cookies. Scoop the dough into 1-inch balls (about 1 tablespoon each). Roll each ball in granulated sugar until evenly coated. Place 2 inches apart on the prepared baking sheets.
Bake. Bake one sheet at a time for 10 to 12 minutes, until the cookies are set and just lightly golden at the edges. They will look slightly underdone in the center — that is correct.
Press and cool. Remove from the oven and immediately press one unwrapped chocolate kiss firmly into the center of each cookie. The cookie will crack slightly around the edges — this is how it is supposed to look. Transfer to a wire rack and allow to cool completely before serving so the chocolate can set.

Nutrition (per serving)

Peanut Butter Blossoms Cookie Recipe — What I Teach the New Ones First