“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”
The “it” in question was a request to duplicate Wegman’s premium oatmeal raisin cookie—a request made by my sister Karen, who along with husband Devin and kids Devin the Younger, Kara and Dylan, should consider buying stock in the store based on their consumption of this $9/lb cookie.
This seemingly simple task was stymied by the following facts: One: I had never tasted the object in question. Two: I live about a 1,000 miles from Wegmans. Three: I dislike raisins in cookies because my visual impulse says “oh, chocolate chip!” while my taste buds say “oh, shriveled grape.” My mind doesn’t like surprises.
Saving Grace #1: DawnNYS became my knight in shining All-Clad when she mailed cookie samples to Florida, allowing me to take strategic notes on appearance and taste impressions. That girl saved my culinary derriere. Thanks again, missy!
When Dawn’s sample arrived, I noted these facts:
Physical Measurements:
Weigh: 2 oz
Diameter: 3 inches
Thickness: 1/2 inch with an overall flat appearance
Taste Impressions:
Chewy texture with soft interior
Primary tastes of butter, salt, and brown sugar
Visible chunks of walnuts and dark raisins
Having a sample for comparison, I chose Jill Van Cleave’s “Oatmeal Walnut Raisin Cookies” from her book “Big, Soft, Chewy Cookies” to begin my basic research because--how fortuitous! her book title already addressed three of the necessary criteria. These cookies turned out very good (see recipe below) and I immediately wondered if the solution could be this simple.
Not Quite Saving Grace #2: Based on the cookies that Dawn mailed, I emailed Wegmans with a request for information on “their large oatmeal cookie.” Bless their corporate hearts, they sent me the list of ingredients and nutritional info for “OATMEAL OATBRAN COOKIES with RAISINS (Frozen Cookie Program). Up until this point, I didn’t even know they had a name, let alone one in all CAPS.
Reviewing their data, I decided to increase the challenge with a new Rule of Engagement: I would try to duplicate the taste and texture of the cookie using ONLY their ingredients. These included (by order of weight): brown sugar, rolled oats, vegetable shortening, walnuts, egg whites, whole wheat flour, oat bran, corn syrup, enriched flour, non-fat milk, salt, baking soda, emulsifiers (mono and diglycerides, soy lecithin), natural and artificial flavor, and artificial color.
In comparing Van Cleave’s list with this one, the differences were amazing. Rolled oats, raisins and walnuts were the same, but the batter ingredients (sugars, flours, fats, eggs, spices and rising agents) all differed.
Rather than adapt her recipe, I started with Wegmans list and began testing batches using ingredient weight as my guiding factor. Along the way I spoke with the folks at King Arthur Flour, researched Carole Walter’s and Tish Boyle’s books for cookie ingredients, bought a spiffy new scale because it TRULY is the only way to get consistent results, and found a work-around for my issue with raisin’d cookies.
Ingredients:
Take dry non-fat milk for instance. Organic Valley’s flavor is neutral, while Carnation’s Dry Milk tastes and smells like evaporated milk, so I ix-nay’d that product and went with OV. It’s found at health food stores and Whole Foods.
Lecithin, used to emulsify fats in the batter, comes in liquid, granule and capsule form and looks like viscous crank case oil, but it keeps the cookies moist. I found liquid form at a health food store and then discovered 3 bottles of lecithin capsules in my bathroom, obviously bought in a moment of baby-boomer self-preservation and then just as quickly forgotten in a moment of baby boomer dementia. Samples will gladly be sent to anyone who wants them.
Egg whites come in their God-given form or in boxed containers: I used Organic Valley because theirs looks like egg whites while other 100% brands don’t.
I tested regular raisins, organic raisins and golden raisins—and herein found the solution to my problem. Goldens are soft, moist and less bitter than dark ones, with an added bonus of near invisibility in the baked cookie, providing a psychological trompe l'oeil.
I prefer light brown sugar, but dark can be used. Whichever you use, make sure it is fresh and soft and pack it well. The corn syrup is an invert sugar and helps retain moisture. Who knew? I only used light Karo syrup rather than the dark because I wanted to avoid molasses overtones.
Both King Arthur’s new 100% White Whole Wheat Flour and their regular Whole Wheat Flour work well, but NOTE: it’s important to let the batter rest for 15 minutes to soak up moisture (the kind folks at KA confirmed this). If you skip this step, the cookies will not be consistent in their final state. Fresh flour has a clean smell and I suggest replacing any that’s been sitting in the cupboard, as oils turn rancid easily.
Organic oat bran has a slightly larger cut, but taste-wise, the 100% boxed oat bran in the cereal lane worked fine.
I was in a tizzy about salt, normally preferring kosher to normal, but went with Carole Walter’s suggestion of table salt as she’s already made WAY more cookies than I’ll ever attempt in this lifetime.
Old-fashioned rolled oats provided the chewiest cookie so I stopped tests with quick oats and have no further empirical data on that item.
Wegman’s ingredient list included shortening so I tested regular Crisco with the addition of artificial butter-flavored extract, but found the aroma/taste too strong. However, butter-flavored Crisco worked perfectly and since my self-imposed rules allowed artificial flavoring and coloring, I took advantage of it.
Walnuts stored in the freezer were gently toasted to avoid cold spots in the batter, then coarsely chopped.
Van Cleave’s recipe used both baking soda and baking powder, but I limited mine to baking powder with no problem.
The only ingredient I couldn’t justify was industrial emulsifier monoglyceride / diglyceride, but we’ll just sweep that little fact under the rug. The issue was: What to do with the remaining 55-gallon drum after using one tablespoon?
Baking Equipment.
To ensure a consistent size, I used a #24 food industry grade scooper, scaled for exactly 2 ounces. Captain A. R. Perfecto sadly notes that while the raw cookie dough initially weighted ~2 oz, the cookie loses 0.15 ounces during the baking stage (I LOVE my new scale). I compared this to the 21 grams a body supposedly loses at the exact moment of death, as research scientists hypothesize over the weight loss of one’s soul escaping its earthly bounds. Since I work on the assumption that every baked cookie comes with soul intact, this theory does not do squat for me.
I’m a Silpat kind of gal, but tests with parchment paper and nothing at all also worked. My cookie trays are food industry grade half sheets used in a standard electric oven.
Results:
After many evenings spent piddling around with this, I now acknowledge a profound respect for recipe inventors. My husband prepared a batch following instructions which I thought were comprehensive. Sheesh. One extra ounce (a mere 2 Tbls) of each flour changed the shape of the cookie; the indiscriminate use of a glass measuring cup for dry ingredients threw off the oatmeal by 1/2 cup; and not packing the brown sugar resulted in 6 oz instead of 7 oz, which again changed the texture. Who knew the psyche of a cookie could be so fragile and tenuous?
Barbara in VA saw my original post and generously passed along America’s Test Kitchen oatmeal cookie version. Apparently, we were on the same psychic wavelength as I had already tested variations with semi-sweet chips, dried cherries, dried cranberries and dark chocolate chunks. The hubby loves them, but I prefer the basic raisin and walnut version.
Forty dozen cookies later, I’m satisfied with the results. During this time, samples went out to our local library staff and police station. They were shared at work, mailed across the country and gently tucked into 27 boxes of goodies for Marines stationed in Iraq. As one final test, I prepared both Van Cleave’s version and mine and had a friend taste them, one after the other. Sitting at our kitchen table, he bit into a warm cookie and said: “This is exactly what I thought heaven would be like.”
Healthy ingredients aside, they’re still 238 calories per cookie with only 2 grams of fiber. Wegman’s version has 3 grams of fiber, so I suspect “artificial flavor” may be secret code for “shredded pine bark.”
I no longer remember what the original Wegman’s taste like and so I’m not sure if this comes close to matching it. However, a comparison of the nutritional facts placed mine within 95% of Wegman’s and for some geeky reason that pleases me to no end. The taste is clean and oatmealy, with just a hint of martyrdom.
And the outcome of this challenge? After pushing beta samples on everyone I know, the acid test came when I mailed both Van Cleaves’s oatmeal cookie and the reverse-engineered Wegman’s to my sister. While K and Devin liked the clone, the kids preferred Van Cleave’s butter cookies.
Oh. Well. So much for science.
The “it” in question was a request to duplicate Wegman’s premium oatmeal raisin cookie—a request made by my sister Karen, who along with husband Devin and kids Devin the Younger, Kara and Dylan, should consider buying stock in the store based on their consumption of this $9/lb cookie.
This seemingly simple task was stymied by the following facts: One: I had never tasted the object in question. Two: I live about a 1,000 miles from Wegmans. Three: I dislike raisins in cookies because my visual impulse says “oh, chocolate chip!” while my taste buds say “oh, shriveled grape.” My mind doesn’t like surprises.
Saving Grace #1: DawnNYS became my knight in shining All-Clad when she mailed cookie samples to Florida, allowing me to take strategic notes on appearance and taste impressions. That girl saved my culinary derriere. Thanks again, missy!
When Dawn’s sample arrived, I noted these facts:
Physical Measurements:
Weigh: 2 oz
Diameter: 3 inches
Thickness: 1/2 inch with an overall flat appearance
Taste Impressions:
Chewy texture with soft interior
Primary tastes of butter, salt, and brown sugar
Visible chunks of walnuts and dark raisins
Having a sample for comparison, I chose Jill Van Cleave’s “Oatmeal Walnut Raisin Cookies” from her book “Big, Soft, Chewy Cookies” to begin my basic research because--how fortuitous! her book title already addressed three of the necessary criteria. These cookies turned out very good (see recipe below) and I immediately wondered if the solution could be this simple.
Not Quite Saving Grace #2: Based on the cookies that Dawn mailed, I emailed Wegmans with a request for information on “their large oatmeal cookie.” Bless their corporate hearts, they sent me the list of ingredients and nutritional info for “OATMEAL OATBRAN COOKIES with RAISINS (Frozen Cookie Program). Up until this point, I didn’t even know they had a name, let alone one in all CAPS.
Reviewing their data, I decided to increase the challenge with a new Rule of Engagement: I would try to duplicate the taste and texture of the cookie using ONLY their ingredients. These included (by order of weight): brown sugar, rolled oats, vegetable shortening, walnuts, egg whites, whole wheat flour, oat bran, corn syrup, enriched flour, non-fat milk, salt, baking soda, emulsifiers (mono and diglycerides, soy lecithin), natural and artificial flavor, and artificial color.
In comparing Van Cleave’s list with this one, the differences were amazing. Rolled oats, raisins and walnuts were the same, but the batter ingredients (sugars, flours, fats, eggs, spices and rising agents) all differed.
Rather than adapt her recipe, I started with Wegmans list and began testing batches using ingredient weight as my guiding factor. Along the way I spoke with the folks at King Arthur Flour, researched Carole Walter’s and Tish Boyle’s books for cookie ingredients, bought a spiffy new scale because it TRULY is the only way to get consistent results, and found a work-around for my issue with raisin’d cookies.
Ingredients:
Take dry non-fat milk for instance. Organic Valley’s flavor is neutral, while Carnation’s Dry Milk tastes and smells like evaporated milk, so I ix-nay’d that product and went with OV. It’s found at health food stores and Whole Foods.
Lecithin, used to emulsify fats in the batter, comes in liquid, granule and capsule form and looks like viscous crank case oil, but it keeps the cookies moist. I found liquid form at a health food store and then discovered 3 bottles of lecithin capsules in my bathroom, obviously bought in a moment of baby-boomer self-preservation and then just as quickly forgotten in a moment of baby boomer dementia. Samples will gladly be sent to anyone who wants them.
Egg whites come in their God-given form or in boxed containers: I used Organic Valley because theirs looks like egg whites while other 100% brands don’t.
I tested regular raisins, organic raisins and golden raisins—and herein found the solution to my problem. Goldens are soft, moist and less bitter than dark ones, with an added bonus of near invisibility in the baked cookie, providing a psychological trompe l'oeil.
I prefer light brown sugar, but dark can be used. Whichever you use, make sure it is fresh and soft and pack it well. The corn syrup is an invert sugar and helps retain moisture. Who knew? I only used light Karo syrup rather than the dark because I wanted to avoid molasses overtones.
Both King Arthur’s new 100% White Whole Wheat Flour and their regular Whole Wheat Flour work well, but NOTE: it’s important to let the batter rest for 15 minutes to soak up moisture (the kind folks at KA confirmed this). If you skip this step, the cookies will not be consistent in their final state. Fresh flour has a clean smell and I suggest replacing any that’s been sitting in the cupboard, as oils turn rancid easily.
Organic oat bran has a slightly larger cut, but taste-wise, the 100% boxed oat bran in the cereal lane worked fine.
I was in a tizzy about salt, normally preferring kosher to normal, but went with Carole Walter’s suggestion of table salt as she’s already made WAY more cookies than I’ll ever attempt in this lifetime.
Old-fashioned rolled oats provided the chewiest cookie so I stopped tests with quick oats and have no further empirical data on that item.
Wegman’s ingredient list included shortening so I tested regular Crisco with the addition of artificial butter-flavored extract, but found the aroma/taste too strong. However, butter-flavored Crisco worked perfectly and since my self-imposed rules allowed artificial flavoring and coloring, I took advantage of it.
Walnuts stored in the freezer were gently toasted to avoid cold spots in the batter, then coarsely chopped.
Van Cleave’s recipe used both baking soda and baking powder, but I limited mine to baking powder with no problem.
The only ingredient I couldn’t justify was industrial emulsifier monoglyceride / diglyceride, but we’ll just sweep that little fact under the rug. The issue was: What to do with the remaining 55-gallon drum after using one tablespoon?
Baking Equipment.
To ensure a consistent size, I used a #24 food industry grade scooper, scaled for exactly 2 ounces. Captain A. R. Perfecto sadly notes that while the raw cookie dough initially weighted ~2 oz, the cookie loses 0.15 ounces during the baking stage (I LOVE my new scale). I compared this to the 21 grams a body supposedly loses at the exact moment of death, as research scientists hypothesize over the weight loss of one’s soul escaping its earthly bounds. Since I work on the assumption that every baked cookie comes with soul intact, this theory does not do squat for me.
I’m a Silpat kind of gal, but tests with parchment paper and nothing at all also worked. My cookie trays are food industry grade half sheets used in a standard electric oven.
Results:
After many evenings spent piddling around with this, I now acknowledge a profound respect for recipe inventors. My husband prepared a batch following instructions which I thought were comprehensive. Sheesh. One extra ounce (a mere 2 Tbls) of each flour changed the shape of the cookie; the indiscriminate use of a glass measuring cup for dry ingredients threw off the oatmeal by 1/2 cup; and not packing the brown sugar resulted in 6 oz instead of 7 oz, which again changed the texture. Who knew the psyche of a cookie could be so fragile and tenuous?
Barbara in VA saw my original post and generously passed along America’s Test Kitchen oatmeal cookie version. Apparently, we were on the same psychic wavelength as I had already tested variations with semi-sweet chips, dried cherries, dried cranberries and dark chocolate chunks. The hubby loves them, but I prefer the basic raisin and walnut version.
Forty dozen cookies later, I’m satisfied with the results. During this time, samples went out to our local library staff and police station. They were shared at work, mailed across the country and gently tucked into 27 boxes of goodies for Marines stationed in Iraq. As one final test, I prepared both Van Cleave’s version and mine and had a friend taste them, one after the other. Sitting at our kitchen table, he bit into a warm cookie and said: “This is exactly what I thought heaven would be like.”
Healthy ingredients aside, they’re still 238 calories per cookie with only 2 grams of fiber. Wegman’s version has 3 grams of fiber, so I suspect “artificial flavor” may be secret code for “shredded pine bark.”
I no longer remember what the original Wegman’s taste like and so I’m not sure if this comes close to matching it. However, a comparison of the nutritional facts placed mine within 95% of Wegman’s and for some geeky reason that pleases me to no end. The taste is clean and oatmealy, with just a hint of martyrdom.
And the outcome of this challenge? After pushing beta samples on everyone I know, the acid test came when I mailed both Van Cleaves’s oatmeal cookie and the reverse-engineered Wegman’s to my sister. While K and Devin liked the clone, the kids preferred Van Cleave’s butter cookies.
Oh. Well. So much for science.
