Don't give me that look! If I tell you that you need Potato Chip Cookies in your life, then you need them. Yeah, we all love chocolate chip. But don't be such a basic bitch! Put down that nasty pumpkin spice latte and try something new!

To be fair, this is an old recipe. These cookies were served in the "Tea Room" at the long-shuttered Hutzler's Department store in Baltimore. Fifty years later, the Boomers are still talking about dressing up and going downtown to eat potato chip cookies in the Tea Room. They're salty, and buttery and taste like America before we turned the country into one giant SuperWalmart with fifteen disgusting flavors of Oreos.

But seriously, WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS EVEN?

Don't put that shit in your mouth! Don't feed it to your kids. Do not encourage Nabisco in this perversion. They are not the boss of you, and you can make your own damn cookies that are much better!

Hutzler's Potato Chip Cookies

(from The Baltimore Sun)

2 sticks unsalted butter, softened (226g)

3/4 cup sugar (150g)

1 egg yolk

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 1/2 cups flour (188g)

1/4 teaspoon table salt

1/2 cup chopped pecans (55g)

1/2 cup crushed plain potato chips, not salt'n'vinegar Smartass (28g)

Preheat the oven to 350˚ (325˚ convection). Cream the butter and sugar in a stand or hand mixer for two minutes. Beat in the yolk and vanilla.

Add the flour and the nuts and mix until well blended, then gently fold in the potato chips.

Spoon heaping tablespoons of dough onto an ungreased cookie sheet (or use #40 disher), leaving about 2 inches between cookies. Bake for about 20 minutes, until the sides are just brown. Don't take them out early -- unless you enjoy the uncooked flour taste of library paste. Cool cookies on a rack.

Makes about 24

[Baltimore Sun]

Put some money in the kitty for cookies and milk! Also, salaries and servers! Thanks.

Liz Dye

Liz Dye lives in Baltimore with her wonderful husband and a houseful of teenagers. When she isn't being mad about a thing on the internet, she's hiding in plain sight in the carpool line. She's the one wearing yoga pants glaring at her phone.

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