Get the Recipe
Yes, yes, I know what black and white cookies actually are. I grew up in New York City, where they're a cultural touchstone almost as emblematic as dirty water dogs and the Empire State Building. The only reason I haven't brought you a recipe yet is that for most of my tenure at this column, I was still living in New York. It was so easy to buy myself one of those big cakey delights when the craving hit that I never felt the need to perfect a recipe of my own.
The thing is, I've been missing New York. There are things you just can't get anywhere else, and it's not only good bagels and a certain style of pizza. It's the misery tinged with steely determination of a crowd on a subway platform in the early morning. It's having people on the street at all times of day, ignoring you in a way that assures you that you can peacefully live your life without care. And the bodegas, ah, the bodegas. New Yorkers have it made. All those plentiful, well stocked delis ensure that you will never go hungry, or show up to a party sober.
It's in honor of those delis that I made these cookies. The name is a nod to the most well known deli cookie, the true Black and White, but the concept—an extra buttery, chewy chocolate chunk cookie—is a tribute to a different item. I was inspired by the recipe for David's Cookies, a chocolate chunk cookie company that took New York by storm in the 80's. You know the kind; they're part of the under-baked, brown-sugar forward, Otis Spunkmeyer chocolate chip cookie contingency.
These cookies achieve that chewy texture and rich molasses taste by foregoing leavening agents for a ton of butter and brown sugar. There are big chunks of dark and white chocolate. The dark chocolate provides a needed hint of bitterness, while the white chocolate is creamy and mild. They're not exactly the same as the ones I'd impulsively grab from the plastic bin near the gum and the performance-enhancing pills, but until I return to NY, they'll do the trick.