Classic Peanut Butter Blossoms

The Cookie That Outsmarts the Tin: My Peanut Butter Blossoms Story

Alright, I have to admit—Classic Peanut Butter Blossoms are the reason my family rarely buys store-bought cookies anymore. Years ago, it was my aunt Linda who first brought them to a family BBQ (everyone ignored the fruit salad from then on—sorry, Aunt Marge!). You know how everyone gets all competitive about their secret cookie recipes? Well, these little guys, chocolate nestled into a soft peanut butter hug, end up disappearing before the burgers finish grilling. I remember once trying to smuggle five into my jacket pocket for later, which, as you might imagine, didn’t go well. Lesson learned: don’t hide warm cookies. Anyway, let’s bake some together?

Why I Keep Making These and You Might Too

I bake Classic Peanut Butter Blossoms when my sweet tooth is hulking out or when my friend Cathy decides to “just pop by”—which basically means she wants cookies and a chat. Seriously, my family goes crazy for these because, honestly, they’re the perfect blend of salty peanut butter and melty chocolate. (If you haven’t eaten three in a row, are they really that good? I think not.)

One time, I tried using healthy peanut butter—someone on the internet swore by it—but the dough turned out as crumbly as my willpower on a Friday night. Still ate them, though. Don’t be like me. Stick to the regular stuff unless you love pretty, but slightly sad-looking cookies.

Here’s What You’ll Need (Plus a Few “Meh, If You Want” Swaps)

• 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened (salted works in a pinch—I’ve done it, just skip the extra pinch of salt later)
• 3/4 cup creamy peanut butter (somehow crunchy never works here; my grandma swore by Jif, but I’m not loyal, any creamy one basically works)
• 1/3 cup granulated sugar (I’ve tried brown sugar in a hurry; flavors are deeper, not bad but different)
• 1/3 cup packed light brown sugar
• 1 egg
• 2 tablespoons milk (any %; I’ve even used oat milk on a dare—nobody noticed)
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract (don’t stress if you’re a little over, my hand always shakes here)
• 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon salt (honestly, sometimes I forget; it’s fine, not a crisis)
• Extra granulated sugar for rolling
• About 36 chocolate kisses, unwrapped (or go rogue: I’ve tried mini peanut butter cups, only once did the chocolate slide off the cookie—whoops)

Okay, Let’s Actually Bake (Trust Your Gut, and Maybe Mine?)

1. Preheat your oven to 375°F (190°C). If you forget this step, don’t stress. Just turn it on when you remember—cookie dough likes a little rest anyway.
2. Beat butter and the 3/4 cup peanut butter together until it looks like frosting. You can use a mixer, or your arm if you’re feeling strong (I once broke a spatula doing this—upgrade if you can!)
3. Add the granulated sugar and brown sugar; beat it until fluffy. This is where I usually sneak a quick taste—do what feels right.
4. Throw in the egg, milk, and vanilla. Mix until combined (it’ll look a bit gloopy—it always does!).
5. Stir in the flour, baking soda, and salt, but don’t overdo it. Just until you don’t see any white streaks. A few flour pockets? Fine, you’re among friends here.
6. Scoop out pieces of dough about the size of a large marble—probably a rounded tablespoon or so. Roll into balls, then gently bounce them in a shallow bowl of sugar to coat.
7. Space them out on an ungreased baking sheet (parchment if you’re fancy, but I usually skip it). I fit about 12 per tray. Bake 8–10 minutes, but check at 8. The edges should look just golden. Don’t panic if they seem slightly underbaked—they’ll set.
8. Immediately (and I mean, don’t answer the phone!), gently press one chocolate kiss firmly into the center of each. The cookie cracks a little and that’s perfect.
9. Let them cool for a few minutes right there, or just burn your tongue like I do every time. Up to you.

Stuff I Learned the Hard Way (a.k.a. Notes)

• Actually, I find it works better if the butter isn’t too soft. Room temp, yes—melted? Save that for pancakes.
• Don’t unwrap the chocolates as the cookies bake, unless you want a chaotic scramble (my dog once ate three before I could stop her—rookie mistake).
• If the dough feels sticky, chill it for 10 minutes. Or just live dangerously and roll fast—I do both depending on my mood.

Variants I’ve Tried (Some Winners, Some…Not So Much)

• Mini peanut butter cups for the center—lovely, but one batch the candies just fell right off. Maybe they got stage fright.
• Sprinkling flaky sea salt on top: game-changer, especially for adults who think they’re too cool for a blossom.
• Once, I subbed in almond butter. Cookies were fine, but honestly, they just didn’t have the same cozy vibe.
• Peanut allergy in the crowd? My neighbor swears sunflower seed butter works. Haven’t tried it, so proceed at your own risk.

Equipment (Or What to Do If You Don’t Have That Fancy Thing)

• Mixing bowl (honestly, I’ve used a big soup pot in a pinch; don’t judge)
• Hand mixer or sturdy spoon—muscle power works, but if you’ve got a gadget, use it. Unless the power’s out… then it’s a workout.
• Baking tray (I once tried making half the batch in a lasagna pan. It works. Sort of.)
• Spoons or a cookie scoop, if you’re feeling organized

How to Store Them (If They Last That Long)

Officially, you can keep them in an airtight tin for up to five days. Realistically, in my house, they vanish overnight. And, if I’m being honest, I think these taste even better the next day—the flavors kinda mingle by morning. For freezing, layer with parchment and stash in a container. The chocolate top will get that frosty look, but it’s still good—trust me.

How We Serve Them Around Here

I plop them onto a mismatched plate, pour glass of milk, and that’s dessert. On Christmas, Grandma insists on serving them with hot cocoa, which I can’t say I hate. Also—sometimes, I crumble a leftover cookie over vanilla ice cream. Pretty sure it counts as a second dessert, but who’s keeping track?

Lessons Learned (The Hard Way, Of Course)

• I once tried to microwave the butter to speed things up and ended up with oily dough, so… don’t do that.
• If you rush the cooling and move cookies too fast, the chocolate gets a dent; I mean, still delicious, but if you want that picture-perfect look, let ‘em cool a bit more first.
• Skipping the sugar roll is tempting when you’re in a hurry, but you really do miss that sparkle. I regret skipping it, every single time!

FAQ: Your Real (and Imagined) Cookie Questions

• Can I use natural peanut butter? You can, but the dough gets super crumbly, so add a splash more milk. Or just stick with the classic stuff—that’s my two cents.
• What if I don’t have chocolate kisses? Use squares of chocolate, mini peanut butter cups, or even a chunk of your leftover Halloween haul. Did that once—no complaints.
• How do you keep the cookies from crumbling? Don’t overbake! 8–10 minutes tops. If they’re still soft, that’s good—just let them cool on the tray a bit longer.
• Is there a dairy-free version? I haven’t personally tested one, but Minimalist Baker has a vegan twist. Worth a look.
• Can I double the batch? Oh absolutely. Do I recommend it? Only if you’re prepared to make some neighbors super happy. (King Arthur has the math all figured out if you’re feeling fancy).

So there you go—my slightly chaotic, occasionally contradictory, but unfailingly tasty guide to Classic Peanut Butter Blossoms. If you bake these, let me know how many you managed not to eat off the cooling rack. And if you end up with a dog who runs off with your chocolates, well, you’re in good company!