Listen. Amish Sugar Cookies sound like the kind of thing your grandma might keep in a tin next to her sewing kit and some weird butterscotch candies nobody eats. And honestly? That image isn’t totally wrong.
But these cookies? These little unassuming, pale beige puffs of joy? They’re dangerous. Like, “accidentally eat 7 while standing over the sink” kind of dangerous.
I stumbled onto them in the middle of a baking spiral. You know, those moments when you’re stressed or bored or slightly emotionally unstable and your brain goes, “What if I just made 48 cookies right now?” Yeah, that.
The Day I Made 48 Cookies Because I Was Avoiding My Inbox
It started as a distraction.
I was working from home. My email was giving me anxiety. So naturally, I thought, I should cream some butter and sugar together like a pioneer. I opened my pantry, found a suspiciously full bag of flour, and remembered this old scribbled note in my mom’s recipe binder that just said: “AMISH SUGAR COOKIES – soft as clouds.”
And look—I didn’t trust it at first. There’s no frosting. No sprinkles. No chocolate chips to distract you from the fact that you’re eating something…beige. But I had butter. I had sugar. And I had issues. So I made them.
That First Bite? I Blacked Out a Little
I kid you not and took one bite and just… paused. Like, full stop, stared into the void, kind of paused. These things are melt-in-your-mouth soft. Not chewy. Not crispy. Soft. Like, if a cloud married a shortbread.
They’re simple. But also? Not boring. There’s this weird magic in the vanilla and that subtle snap of the edges. And they get even better the next day. If they last that long.
(They won’t. Sorry.)
Okay, Okay—Here’s the “Recipe” (If You Can Even Call It That)
It’s basic. Like, Target leggings and pumpkin spice latte kind of basic. But in the best way.
Ingredients:
- 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
- 1 cup vegetable oil
- 1 cup granulated sugar
- 1 cup powdered sugar (yes, BOTH sugars—go big or go home)
- 2 large eggs
- 1 tsp vanilla extract (or a little more if you measure like me)
- 4 ½ cups all-purpose flour
- 1 tsp baking soda
- 1 tsp cream of tartar (yes, that weird thing in your spice rack you never use)
- ½ tsp salt
What you do:
- Preheat that oven, baby—375°F.
- Beat butter, oil, both sugars together in a bowl until light and fluffy-ish.
- Add the eggs and vanilla. Mix again. Taste the batter. (You deserve it.)
- Mix flour, baking soda, cream of tartar, and salt in a separate bowl because that’s what fancy people do.
- Combine the dry with the wet. Stir until it’s a soft, pillowy dough. Like Play-Doh but edible.
- Do not chill the dough. I repeat: NO CHILLING. This is a lazy cookie. Just roll into 1-inch blobs, plop on a baking sheet.
- Bake for about 8–10 minutes. Don’t overbake unless you’re into crunchy betrayal.
- Let them cool and experience soft-cookie nirvana.
No Chill, no Fuss, No Waiting Around Like You’re on Hold With Customer Service
I love a good cookie dough chill in theory. But let’s be real—I’m not patient. If I have cookie dough, I want cookies now. Not after three hours and a podcast.
These Amish Sugar Cookies? They get it. No chill time. Just mix, scoop, bake, and question your entire cookie hierarchy.
Who Even Are the Amish and Why Are Their Cookies So Elite?
Okay, so I’m not Amish. Shock. But there’s something kinda beautiful about how minimal and peaceful their recipes are.
No artificial nonsense. No fancy ingredients with silent letters. Just good ol’ butter, sugar, flour, and love (and probably a little judgment if you use margarine).
It makes sense that these cookies came from a community that knows how to bake without electricity. Like, imagine the energy in a kitchen that runs on elbow grease and generational wisdom. That’s power.
How to Make Them Fancy (If You Absolutely Must)
These cookies are the ultimate blank canvas. You can dress them up if you’re feeling extra:
- Sprinkle with colored sugar before baking. Boom. Festive.
- Add lemon zest to the batter. Suddenly it’s citrusy and
sophisticated. - Dip half in chocolate. For drama.
- Frost them. Sure. Go nuts. But honestly? They don’t need it.
Sometimes the best cookies are the ones that don’t scream for attention.
When I Made These for a Work Party and Accidentally Became “Cookie Girl”
So, small moment of chaos—I made these for our little office potluck (remember when people used to do those??) and put them in a Tupperware that somehow vanished by lunch.
Cut to: Brenda from HR pulling one out of her purse like it was some treasured heirloom. I swear she looked me dead in the eye and said, “You can make these for my funeral.”
I didn’t know how to respond, so I nodded and took it as a compliment?
Anyway, that was the day I became “cookie girl.” No regrets.
Make These When:
- You forgot your kid signed you up to bring something to the bake sale
- You need to bribe your neighbors to forgive your loud dog
- It’s Tuesday and you’re spiraling and want a win
- You want to impress someone without actually trying
Final Thoughts Before I Eat Another One
Amish Sugar Cookies are unproblematic, reliable, and wildly underhyped.
They’re the cardigan of cookies. Comforting. Soft. Maybe a little plain-looking. But when you bite into one? Oh, honey. You’ll never look at a store-bought cookie the same again.
Bake them. Eat too many. Store the rest in a tin like a sweet little liar who pretends they’ll “save some for tomorrow.”
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