“I don’t like the nuts in these. I kind of wish they were more of the classic chocolate chip cookie,” my friend complained recently as we mulled over a plate of cookies.
Actually, the classic chocolate chip cookie does have walnuts in it. It was invented by none other than an old Mrs. Tollhouse—I’m not even kidding—who, in a bind, tried to substitute chopped up chocolate for cocoa powder in a recipe for chocolate walnut cookies. It didn’t work. But what did happen was she accidentally invented the chocolate chip cookie, probably the most famous cookie ever. And yes, I corrected my friend and made him sit through that chocolate chip cookie history speech too.
1706 Westheimer Rd.
I agree with my friend’s opinion that a classic chocolate cookie shouldn't have had walnuts in the first place. Still, we can’t deny that Common Bond, the Montrose newcomer, makes a good chocolate chip cookie. Soft and fluffy, and with just enough of a chewy bite, the cookie is littered with an abundance of molten chocolate and dotted with walnuts (which I'm sure other people like just fine). It's a text book example of a good cookie. This is Mrs. Tollhouse’s cookie.
After we enjoyed a Common Bond cookie one afternoon to reconfirm this assessment, we headed to Tiny Boxwood’s to do a comparison—after all, before Common Bond's entry into the Houston market, Tiny Boxwood's was renowned as having one of the best chocolate chip cookies in the city. As we walked up to Tiny’s, a place I’ve only managed to visit in the morning, I saw a full patio.
3614 W. Alabama St.
“Are we allowed to just come here to eat the cookies?” I asked the hostess. I didn't want to take up valuable space from patrons who will actually spend more than $6, after all. The hostess laughed and assured us we'd be fine. Seated at the bar, tucked away near the the bar back station, we ordered our cookies and dove in.
Though by dive in, I really mean savor. The cookie was the perfect pairing of a crunchy, crispy outer edge and soft chewy center with a just sweet enough bite and just rich enough molasses flavor; we both guessed that Tiny Boxwood’s uses more brown sugar in their recipe than Common Bond did—and even better, no walnuts.
“I have never seen anyone nurse our cookies as slowly as y’all have,” the bartender noted as she filled up our tiny water glass. We both agree, mere bites into Tiny Boxwood’s cookies, that they are the clear winner in our informal cookie battle. Common Bond makes a great cookie, but Tiny’s is just that much better. I’m still trying to dissect the recipe so I can make a chocolate chip cookie as good as theirs.