Jammie Dodger Berry & White Chocolate – With a Shoelace Twist

The Story

These were the dessert pairing for the first cooking lesson I did with my friends, so it only felt right to recreate one of their old favourites from my shop: the BN cookie.

But this version? It took a little detour.

I didn’t want it to be too expensive or complicated to source ingredients—this wasn’t meant to be a patisserie masterclass, just a bit of fun in the kitchen. So instead of using the usual freeze-dried strawberries I had on hand at the bakery, we gave strawberry laces a go. Yes—those chewy, overly sweet, neon-pink ones from childhood. And instead of using mini biscuits as decoration, we just leaned all the way in: giant cookies, each crowned with a full-sized Jammie Dodger.

I mean, biscuit on biscuit is a bit ironic… but also, biscuits are delicious. Who says you can’t have too much of a good thing?

The Lesson

Starting with the Dough – When Time Is on Your Side 

The main for that session was lasagna—we’d already spent ages hand-rolling pasta and simmering a rich ragu. My friends were starting to worry we’d run out of time. But for me, cookies are the kind of thing I can whip up in ten minutes flat (not including the bake, of course).

I reeled off the instructions from memory—soft butter, sugar, eggs, flour. That’s your base. Then come the mix-ins: creamy white chocolate chunks, chewy strawberry laces, and a handful of freeze-dried raspberries to sharpen it up.

We didn’t chill the dough. We didn’t brown the butter. It wasn’t one of those bakes. But still—there’s something about watching a simple cookie dough come together that feels… right. Like a palate cleanser after a rich main.

The Flavour Bomb – What Makes It More Than Just a Cookie

These cookies are simple—but there are a few things that make them sing.

The vanilla bean paste, for one. The proper stuff—the kind with the little black dots. It brings a richness that fake vanilla never quite hits. And then there’s the white chocolate: creamy, slightly sweet, and a natural match for berries.

But the real secret? Miso. Just a little. It goes into all my cookie doughs—it adds depth, balance, and a tiny touch of salt that keeps everything from being cloying. You don’t taste it outright, but you’d miss it if it weren’t there.

The freeze-dried raspberries add tang, the laces bring chew and nostalgia, and the Jammie Dodger on top? Well, that’s just fun.

Respecting the Ingredients – The Mix

With cookie dough, texture is everything. Too sticky, and they spread too much. Too dry, and they don’t spread at all. You want a dough that forms into a ball easily—but still feels soft and pliable in your hands.

I bake mine at a higher temperature than most—hot and fast—so you get those crisp,

golden edges and that perfect soft middle. The kind that sinks a little when you break it open, still warm, just barely set in the centre.

They don’t need to be perfect circles. Honestly, the best cookies never are.

Rolling with It – When Shape Doesn’t Matter

I won’t reveal the weight of the cookie balls I did for the shop—but I will say we weighed these ones out at 100g each. It might not look huge when it's still a doughball, but once they spread in the oven? Mega cookie territory.

Because this dough melts down as it bakes, there’s no point shaping it like a cookie. The round shape just comes naturally in the oven. We made sure to give them plenty of space on the tray—and resisted the urge to flatten them out. Let gravity and butter do the work.

Honestly, there's something satisfying about that hands-off approach. You do your bit, then the oven takes over. And when they come out all puffed at the edges, golden and cracked on top, it's hard not to feel just a little smug.

Why This Lesson Matters

Cookies are pretty understated—and they’ve definitely got a reputation for being easy. But the truth is, I spent years developing my signature recipe. Along the way, I realised just how many little steps in the process can have a dramatic effect on the final result. The first cookies I ever sold were nothing like the ones I make now—and, back then, they were wildly inconsistent.

It wasn’t until I started digging deeper—testing, reading, researching different styles—that things began to click. I learned how much method matters: from butter temperature, to how long you mix, to how the dough rests. When I came across the Levain-style cookie (just in theory—I’ve never even had a real one), I thought: that’s the vibe I want. But mine would still be its own thing—rich, gooey, generous, but a little more refined.

These cookies might look playful on top, but they’re built on a lot of quiet technical choices. And that’s what makes them special.

The Verdict

✅ Crisp golden edges, soft gooey centre 

✅ Punchy fruit, mellow white chocolate, and a subtle salty note 

✅ Childlike joy meets grown-up balance

They were meant to be a quick dessert—but they ended up being something more. Something worth making again.

The only thing missing? A nice drizzle of white chocolate to finish. Maybe we could blame my friends for eating the last chunks. But really, I think I’m to blame:

1. I didn’t include it in the recipe I gave them.

2. I didn’t tell them not to eat the white chocolate—in fact, I might’ve encouraged it.

3. And I definitely didn’t bring any extra with me.

Lesson learned: next time, bring your own chocolate… and hide it.

Final Thought

It’s tempting to rush—especially with something as simple as a cookie.

But sometimes, it’s the little things—the pause, the sprinkle, the unexpected biscuit on top—that make a bake unforgettable.

Sure, you can buy a pack of cookies at the shop. But then again… why not bake a cookie to sit that cookie on top of?