My perfect cookie is chewy, golden brown and just a little crispy around the edges, and barely-done in the center.

There’s no mistaking the smell of chocolate chip cookies in the oven. It smells like a lazy summer day in between the 3rd and 4th grade; it smells like the Saturday night before dinner-on-the-grounds at church; it smells like fighting with my three siblings over who would get to lick the beaters, spoon, and bowl after the cookie dough was mixed; it smells like a right of passage; it smells like home.
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