For the record, let me state: it is impossible very difficult to eat cookie dough while killing mosquitoes.

Alas, I have braved the little buggers for the love of the Great Cookie War. Last week I hustled to the airport with Kim Boyce’s whole wheat chocolate chip cookies in tow. A mid-summer’s Santa Claus, I passed out baggies of cookies, pretending that my generosity was from the heart. Partially. From the hips, really. As in, get these cookies out of my sight so they don’t all end up on my hips!

Two year-old Micah Jones scored some wwccc from  his mother, who received them as an anniversary gift. He demanded more from his car seat. Sounds promising, no? Boyce’s babies are no simple chocolate chip cookie.

Lest us not forget, however, “The Holy Grail of Cookies,” over at The Traveler’s Lunchbox. It’s mid-week, and I’m attempting to dirty the kitchen so much that I have to clean it. And I’m trying to forget that I start a part-time teaching gig tomorrow. Good-bye summer. Hello cookie.

The Holy Grail cookie dough is smooth and golden, like honey, and just as refined. It demands AP flour and butter and oil–how can they not be delicious? Armed with my most diligent work ethic, I heaved globs of the dough into my mouth. (I don’t recommend doing this while drinking white wine. It’s all just a bit…too much.)

And YES! It’s good. Delicious, in fact. But I missed the nuttiness of the whole wheat. I missed at least the illusion of health. (But that did not stop me from continually sampling the wares.) I stuck them in the fridge and then the freezer as the recipe suggested. And I’m newly convinced that this is a trick to puffy, crispy on the outside, soft on the inside cookies. It is a technique my grandfather and I never found. Instead, we had cookies ooze into each other, turning into one big sheet of cookie. Not as delicious as it sounds. Especially if you are nine and you have to clean up.

The bell for round three clanged when the oven timer beeped. I picked up my heavyweight. Still warm. Still gooey. Delicious.

But…but...

I sampled several more Holy Grails as they cooled. But–

Do not get me wrong: I will consume six of any chewy chocolate chip cookie placed in front of me. But–

I missed the whole wheat. Perhaps it’s because the food I daily eat resembles cardboard, tasty cardboard. The Holy Grails lacked depth, lacked a heartiness. I like digestive biscuits for a reason–they are a bit heavier, they stick to my ribs just a bit longer. And who doesn’t want chocolate chip cookie stuck to their ribs? Sounds heavenly.  (Perhaps this is why the Bible touts Eve was made from a rib of Adam’s–she was after that cookie on his innards!) The Holy Grails are light and fluffy, blonde in color when they come out of the oven. They are not unlike a stereotypical blonde herself: pretty to look at, okay to nibble on, but you don’t want to sit down with whole batch of her after dinner. (Okay, this analogy is not working as well on screen as in my mind…) The Whole Wheat Chocolate Chippers? Well, they’re not all that pretty. But they are smart. And funny. And you could spend the night talking to them and cuddling with them in bed. (No really, you may find yourself doing this.) These are the kind of cookies you would marry.

In my mind, there is a clear winner. And we (the cookie and I) may celebrate by joining forces in the kitchen again.

Until then, I am also addicted to these guys. Have you had them? I want to make them. The best part is their crispiness (usually I despise crispy cookies) and the bits of chewy ginger in them. I’m thinking this recipe might do the trick. I’ll be back to report. But I’ll probably  hold off until I’ve been squished into my wedding dress.