#65 Best Dark Chocolate Oat Cookies

The Hallway, the Book Nook, and the Cookies That Kept Me Sane

I can’t remember what silence sounds like.

We’re now entering Week Two (maybe Three? I’ve lost count) of our full-blown domestic chaos: floors half-up, the scent of sawdust in the air, boxes in every hallway, and yet another impromptu decision to "just quickly update" something else while we're at it. This week’s mission: the hallway and the downstairs bathroom.

The hallway, bless it, has become a kind of Tetris of tools, tiles, rogue socks, and one very confused golden retriever. Every time I open a cupboard, I find either a rogue paintbrush or a half-eaten biscuit (not mine, presumably). Somewhere between tile samples and mood boards, Calum and I had a moment of dangerous optimism and started dreaming up the idea of a mini book nook. A tiny, warm corner near the stairwell with a built-in bench, shelves crammed with our favourites, a throw or two, and maybe a lamp low enough to make it feel like a secret. I can already see myself sneaking off there with a strong cup of coffee and one of these cookies. Or three.

Meanwhile, the downstairs bathroom is mid-glow-up. By glow-up, I mean it’s currently in the “we’ve broken everything but haven’t rebuilt it yet” phase. There are pipes sticking out of walls like they’re trying to make a run for it. It’s all a bit tragic, really—but also kind of exciting in a messy, mad way.

And through all this noise and mess, these cookies have been my one constant. Baked at strange hours, eaten warm off the tray, tucked into pockets, handed to tilers, builders, even passed across the fence to our neighbours as a peace offering for the drilling.

They are divine. Dark chocolate (the darker the better), toasted oats, brown butter, a deep base note of brown sugar, and just a whisper of spice—nutmeg, cinnamon, and a pinch of something peppery if you’re brave. The edges go crisp and caramelised, while the middle stays soft and almost brownie-like. They’re humble, but rich. Easy, but indulgent.

Here’s the recipe, from my noisy, biscuit-crumbed kitchen to yours.

Best Dark Chocolate Oat Cookies

Makes 12–14 large cookies

Ingredients:

• 170g unsalted butter

• 150g soft brown sugar

• 50g caster sugar

• 1 large egg

• 1 tsp vanilla extract

• 130g plain flour

• ½ tsp bicarbonate of soda

• ½ tsp fine sea salt

• 1 tsp ground cinnamon

• ¼ tsp ground nutmeg

• 120g rolled oats

• 180g chopped dark chocolate (70% is best)

Method:

1. Brown the butter. Melt your butter in a small saucepan over medium heat, stirring often until it foams and then turns golden brown with little brown flecks at the bottom. It’ll smell nutty and divine. Pour into a large mixing bowl and let it cool for 10 minutes.

2. Whisk in sugars. Add both sugars to the browned butter and beat until glossy and smooth. Add the egg and vanilla, and beat again until slightly thickened—about a minute.

3. Dry ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together flour, bicarb, salt, and spices. Stir into the wet mixture until just combined.

4. Add the oats and chocolate. Fold in the oats and dark chocolate until evenly distributed. The dough will be glossy and slightly sticky.

5. Chill the dough. Cover and chill the dough for at least 30 minutes (up to 24 hours for deeper flavour). If you’re short on time, pop them in the freezer for 15 minutes while you preheat the oven.

6. Bake. Preheat your oven to 170°C fan (190°C regular). Line a baking tray with parchment. Scoop heaped tablespoons of dough (or use an ice cream scoop for chunky bakery-style ones) and place well apart.

7. Time it right. Bake for 9–11 minutes until the edges are golden and the middles still look slightly underdone—they’ll firm up as they cool.

8. Cool (if you can wait). Let them sit on the tray for 5 minutes before transferring to a wire rack. Or eat one warm. You’ve earned it.

Let me know if you bake them. Or if you’ve ever made a spontaneous decision mid-renovation that turned into the best part of the house. Maybe I’m not mad to want a bookshelf near the toilet after all?

Love,
Annie x