I was planning to start this post with something about food, because that’s the way these things usually work. But I can’t seem to start much of anything, because this is sitting next to my chair.

This is Alice. As of last Friday, she has turned our family of three into a family of four. She is nine months old and weighs about 35 pounds, and though we have no idea what breed she is, we’re guessing some kind of pointer mixed with something else. Possibly a Muppet. Our friend Sam named her Peter Falk, which we changed to Mrs. Peter Falk before eventually settling on Alice, which was the name of Peter Falk’s first wife (though we changed the spelling). Our Alice was born on the border between Arizona and Mexico and picked up by a rescue group as a very young stray, and she’d been living with a family just outside Seattle until recently. For the past six days, I have spent most of my waking, non-work hours trying 1) to tire her out, and 2) to take a decent, non-iPhone photograph of her ridiculous, mop-like face. I have failed on both counts.

However, in the few moments when I was not following Alice around, I did manage to make two batches of salted peanut butter cookies, and I think they are – I am not afraid to go out on this limb – some of the best cookies I will ever eat.

Actually, that strikes me now as a somewhat depressing thing to say, because it seems so final, as though it were all downhill from here and I might as well hang up my apron, say goodnight, climb into a coffin, and close the lid behind me. All I meant was: I have found the peanut butter cookie recipe for me. I have found the only one I will ever need. I have an entire lifetime of outstanding peanut butter cookies ahead of me, and I find that a comforting thought.

The person I have to thank for this is Autumn Martin, owner of Hot Cakes Confections. She makes these cookies, along with take-and-bake chocolate cakes, caramel sauces, truffles, and other sweets, and sells them at a number of farmers’ markets and shops around Seattle. I first tasted her cookies at Picnic, where I often grab sandwiches (housemade corned beef! On a pretzel roll!) at lunchtime. They keep her peanut butter cookies in a jar above the cold case, and it feels like lying if I don’t admit that once, I cleaned out the entire jar. (I shared them with friends. Sort of.) They’re tender, chewy, exactly the right degree of crumbly, and intensely peanutty, and every other bite, you hit a chunk of milk chocolate. I knew that Brandi was also a fan, so when she and Olaiya invited Autumn to teach a class at the Pantry, I crossed my fingers that the salted peanut butter cookies would be on the agenda.

They were. And because she is a kind and merciful woman, or because she noticed the crazed and dangerous look I get when I am near these cookies, Autumn said that I could share her recipe with you.

On the surface, the recipe follows a standard route. It begins with the creaming of butter and sugar, followed by the addition of peanut butter, eggs, vanilla extract, and then dry ingredients. What sets Autumn’s cookies apart is the details: the quality of peanut butter, the quantity of salt, and the addition of chopped milk chocolate. She uses natural peanut butter, which tends to have a truer peanut flavor and fragrance than more processed types, with their added sugar and who knows what else. Her recipe also uses what might look like a daunting amount of salt, but do not be tempted to question it. The result isn’t beat-you-over-the-head salty – just tasty – and the salt serves the valuable purpose of giving the peanut flavor a giant boost. It also heightens the flavor of the milk chocolate chunks that Autumn stirs in at the end, just before scooping and baking. Dark chocolate is my default in most situations, but the milk chocolate here brings something important. I intend this as the very highest of compliments: imagine a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup, and then, imagine a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup as a cookie. Yes. Goodnight.