Why cookie dough doesn't taste the same

Pin It I remember when I was a little kid.

Whenever my mom would bake chocolate-chip cookies I’d always be anxious to get at that bowl of dough. I would dream of a day when I’d be able to make an entire batch of cookie dough and then eat it all.

I wouldn’t even share it.

However, when I was a kid and Mom would make cookies, she’d always use this ancient mixer with two beaters to get the dough ready. When it was sufficiently mixed, she’d push that little button and the beaters would shoot off of the mixer like a pop gun. She’d then use the scraper to get nearly all of the dough off—but not quite.

Mom would then hand these beaters out to us kids. And when mom gave you a beater to lick, it was like licking the dew of the gates of heaven.

It always amazed me just how much dough was really on each of those beaters. Especially when a little trained tongue was covering every square centimeter in the desperate attempt to get as much off of them as humanly possible.

There was really something magical about cookie dough enjoyed this way.

When I got older and had moved out, I decided that I would make a triple batch of cookie dough and my roommate and I would eat it all while watching one of the Back to the Future movies….It wasn’t as wonderful as I thought it would be. Visions of pure unadulterated bliss faded away, and a sensation of nausea took its place instead.

It was not what I had expected.

Even after this sickening experience, over the years I’ve made hundreds of batches of dough…the most popular is that of the notorious “Chunk-A-Poo” cookie which is...how do I describe it?

Wonder?
Bliss?
A party in your mouth?

No matter how you say it…the stuff is good. I decided to make a batch of this dough and as I was cleaning off the one solitary beater, I looked at all those little chunks of dough clinging to it.


As I did, a thought occurred to me. The reason that cookie dough does not taste the same to me is that when I was a kid, it was a limited commodity. There was scarcity. Hence, I enjoyed what I had a lot more. Being able to make it when I’m an adult, and can eat as much as I want makes it lose some of its magic.

As this thought come to mind I decided I’d only eat what was on the beater.


You know what? It still tastes like those pearly gates