Oatmeal Fudge Cookies (AKA "Goat Doo Doo")

So here's a family recipe that should really take us all back - Goat Doo Doo. 

Before I went looking for the recipe I had no idea that (a) they were really called Oatmeal Fudge Cookies and (b) Grandma June submitted this recipe to a cookbook at some point. When I am feeling better, I will scan in the page from the book so you can all see it! One of the things I love about it is the hand-scrawled words, "Goat doo-doo" underneath the recipe title.

Just for kicks, here's a story to go along with this recipe:

One time summer during cherry season when I was 12 or 13, I really, really, really wanted to make these cookies. Unfortunately, it was a time period when the parents were on one of their NO SUGAR IN THE HOUSE kicks.  So I went and borrowed 2 cups of sugar from the Leemasters across the street and the chocolate chips from the Johnson's next door.

When Mom got home and found out that I had borrowed the sugar, she was so upset with me she made can quarts of cherries at 10 cents a quart until I had earned enough money to buy a 10 lb. bag of sugar to repay the Leemasters.  I am not sure I learned any kind of lesson, other than how to bottle cherries very efficiently.  I still borrowed sugar from the neighbors to make forbidden foods while the parents were away. I guess I can share that secret now - all of you know I did it because you would eat what I would make but I have a feeling that at this point Mom won't make me bottle cherries anymore.

So without further delay, here's the recipe:

Goat Doo-Doo

In a heavy sauce pan mix:

• 2 c. granulated sugar
• 1/2 c. evaporated milk
• 1/2 c. butter

Boil for one minute, then pour over:

• 1 1/2 c. quick oats
• 1 c. chocolate chips
• 1 tsp. vanilla

Mix well. Drop from teaspoon onto wax paper. Let cool. Makes about 4 dozen. 

Orange-Spice Oatmeal Raisin Cookies Hand dipped in White Chocolate

 Around these parts, no family gathering during the holidays is complete without these cookies.  My siblings don't care if I make it, as long as the cookies do.  I think I got the basics from a magazine about 12 years ago and then tweaked it to my liking because you know me, I can't just follow follow a recipe.

The secret to these cookies is making sure they have enough "body" to them before you bake them.  If they don't, they will spread out and not have enough character to hold together once you start dipping them in the white chocolate. I don't know how else to describe the certain je ne se qua the dough needs to have, but the texture should be more firm than the typical oatmeal cookie recipe.  Don't be afraid to add a couple of tablespoons of flour at the end, if needed.

Happy baking & love & all that stuff -

M.

(P.S. Pictures will follow, as soon as I can stand being in the kitchen again! Darn this "morning sickness" stuff).

Cast of characters:

1 1/2 c. raisins (or my new favorite, Craisins)
1 c. orange juice
1 c. butter, room temperature
1 ½ c. sugar
2 large eggs
¼ c. grated orange peel
1 t. cinnamon
½ t. cloves
2 1/2 c. all-purpose flour
2 t. baking soda
1 t. salt
3 c. rolled oats
16 oz. white chocolate baking chips
2 t. vegetable oil

Directions:

• Combine orange juice & raisins; let stand overnight.
• Cream butter & sugar together.
• Beat in eggs, orange peel, & spices until light and fluffy.
• Combine flour, baking soda, and salt; stir into butter mixture.
• Add raisins, any soaking liquid, and oats; mix well.
• Drop by rounded tablespoonfuls onto greased cookie sheets.
• Bake at 350 for 10-12 minutes.
• Cool completely on cooling racks.
• In a small, deep bowl, melt the white chocolate & oil (put in microwave for 2-3 minutes on LOW power, stirring once. If it needs longer, microwave in 1 minute intervals, stirring well between each one.)
• Dip one-third of the cool cookie into the white chocolate.
• Place on waxed paper-lined cookie sheets and chill until white chocolate is firm. Warning: the probability that several of these will go MIA before the rest are completed is fairly high. Plan accordingly.
  
• Makes about 3 dozen, depending on how many people have been snitching from the cookie dough bowl.