Soon, you’ll rise from a bed you won’t make. You’ll go downstairs. Cut potatoes into cubes, crack eggs, reach for salt. Next comes rain and work calls. The hot engine of day begins.
But for now, shadows are still pressed thick against the window. Morning is here but hasn’t been announced. Grief has yet to spot you, though you hear her hunting. No one, yet, has spoiled the dark by singing. The air outside too cold, even for birds.
—Joy Sullivan, “Before”, Instructions for Traveling West: Poems
And we’re back at square one, but really, it’s square one hundred—no resting place. There will be endless attempts to outwit a true classic. Various interpretations on form, structure, or dynamism, that shadow the original. These cookies don’t lay claim to that, rather, their strength lies in the acceptance of that very shadow; from Earl Grey “fog”—smoldering, subterranean, and silent. The pulverized black tea leaves soothe each sweet bite with softness, sanctification. I hold them as close to the chest as I would any familiar clutch, born not out of necessity but instead new light; like my strewn pages of sketches and notes that amount to something more than a manuscript. Love, nothing if not refined from the remnants of understanding.
FOG COOKIES
2 ½ cups (315 g) all-purpose flour, 1 teaspoon baking powder, ¾ teaspoon baking soda, 1 teaspoon salt, a pinch of rose petal powder (optional—if you have it), 1 teaspoon Earl Grey tea leaves, 1/3 cup + 1 tablespoon (80 g) granulated sugar, 1 cup (220 g) light brown sugar, ¾ cup + 2 tablespoons (200 g) unsalted butter (soft at room temperature), 1 large egg + 1 large egg yolk (lightly whisked together), 2 teaspoons vanilla extract, 1 ¼ cups (215 g) chopped dark chocolate, flaky sea salt (for finishing)
In a large mixing bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder and soda, salt, and rose petal powder, if using.
Next, in a spice grinder, blitz the Earl Grey tea leaves and granulated sugar until fine and fragrant. Tip the mixture into the bowl of a stand mixer that’s fitted with the paddle attachment, then add in the light brown sugar and butter. Beat on medium speed until light and fluffy, about 3 to 5 minutes. Pause to scrape down the bowl, then stream in the egg and yolk. Continue to beat for a further minute or so, until well incorporated, then beat in the vanilla. Lower the speed, and tip in the dry ingredients. Continue to beat just until a soft dough has formed, then beat through the chocolate chunks until evenly distributed. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and transfer it to the refrigerator. Chill until firm enough to handle—at least an hour.
When you’re ready to bake, line 3 large baking sheets with parchment paper. Adjust racks to the top, middle, and bottom thirds of the oven, then pre-heat it to 350ºF (180ºC).
Using a small 1½ inch (4-cm) cookie scoop as a measure, or about 1 heaped tablespoon, portion out the chilled dough into neat mounds. Divide them between the prepared sheets, leaving a few inches of space apart for spreading. I fit about 8 per sheet. Flourish the tops with a pinch of flaky salt.
Bake for 12 to 14 minutes, rotating halfway through, until golden. The cookies should be crisp around the edges, but still slightly soft at the core. Leave to cool on the sheets for a few minutes, then lift off with a palette knife and onto a wire rack to cool further, before serving.
I like to eat these warm and molten, but they’re also wonderful after they’ve had a few hours of rest, becoming somewhat more refined in texture and flavor. They’ll keep stored in an airtight container at room temperature for 3 days, and make about 2 dozen.
