Chocolate Chip Sheep & A Whole Wheat Chocolate Chip Cookie Recipe (Plus How To Hug a Sheep)

Who Can Resist Cookies & Milk?

My first experience with lambing was quite an adventure, especially since I had never before witnessed anything being born. A big, black-faced Suffolk named Sophie was the first of my sheep to give birth. And she had quadruplets. Which is extremely rare in sheep circles. Two of the lambs did not survive, but this is not uncommon. The two that did had black heads, black legs, and white bodies covered with darling little black spots. Curled up together, they looked like two scoops of chocolate chip ice cream, and I immediately started calling them Chip and Chip, or The Chippers. This was nine years ago, and Chip and Chip are doing just fine.

The Chippers are boys, and unless one is in need of a ram, all male lambs on a farm are routinely castrated when they are very young. They are then called wethers. Wethers are fattened up and eventually relocated into somebody's freezer. Except the lucky few like Chip and Chip.

They were cute and sweet and cuddly and the first lambs born on the farm! I refused to rename them Chop and Chop. Their chocolate chip spots faded, and they became big, wooly pets. One is bigger and woolier than the other, so they are referred to as Big Chip and Skinny Chip, though both of them are enormous.

Since the days of raising large flocks of wethers solely for their wool have long since passed, The Chippers are, according to pretty much everyone except me, completely useless. They are also probably two of the oldest wethers on the planet.

During her last visit to the farm, my mother pointed at Chip and Chip and said, "Tell me again why you don't eat those two." I reminded her that for one thing, they were much too old and wouldn't taste very good. And secondly, it would be like eating the dog. "Oh."

Since sheep are always standing on all four of their feet, they cannot give each other hugs like people can. A mother ewe is unable to hold her lamb; the lamb snuggles up next to her or will sometimes sit right on top of her (which is absolutely adorable). To show affection in general, sheep have their own unique version of a hug, which I learned from Big Chip. What you do is this: Stand right next to the sheep, knees slightly bent to brace yourself. Then you lean your hip and leg into the sheep, pressing with all of your might. At the same time, the sheep presses back. If you stop hugging before the sheep is done, you will end up on the ground. Other than that, it is a very pleasant experience. Every time I get near Big Chip he walks right up to me and demands a hug.

Besides being fun to have around, the Chippers actually do serve a purpose, which I am constantly called upon to explain to people when I am rationalizing their existence. If you want a flock of sheep to do something or go somewhere, you only need to get one sheep to do it. Then the rest will generally follow along (hence all those sheep jokes). A Chipper is often The One. Because they are so friendly and trusting, it is much easier to get them to do what you want than, say, a psychopathic ewe who always looks as though she wants to kill you (and has, on more than one occasion, tried to). If we are trimming hooves or shearing, I can usually walk right up and put my arms around one of The Chippers and we are good to go.

If this priceless attribute is not a reasonable enough explanation, I then point out that I do not have any children so my animals are my kids, and a wether is even easier and cheaper to keep than a dog (let alone a small child).

And so Chip and Chip will continue to lead happy, carefree lives on the farm until they drop dead someday from extreme old age.

I have also managed to keep another pet wether around--a 250+ pound baby named Sweet Pea, but he's a whole other story. And since these three guys are getting grey around their muzzles, I have Teddy, my orphaned bottle baby born last year, standing by as Wether-In-Waiting. I have completely ignored all suggestions to rename him Tasty because he really and truly, with all his little lamb heart, believes that I am his mother. Teddy will never move into somebody's freezer. (Click here to see a picture of Skinny Chip, click here to see a picture of Big Chip, and click here to see a picture of Teddy.)

While the number of chocolate chip wethers I can get away with having in the barn is severely limited, there is no end to the number of chocolate chip cookie recipes allowed to live in the house. While I usually turn to the tried and true recipe I have been following since grade school and used to make at my bakery cafe in California, it is always nice to try something new. I have found that even the slightest change in a recipe can result in an entirely different cookie--which is always a perfect excuse to bake another batch.

I recently came across this forgotten recipe in my files. In 1991, I was working as a graphic designer for a small publishing company whose offices were located on the same property as the owner's residence. A talented, friendly man named Greg was often around, doing various construction and repair jobs. Not only did he install the most beautiful Art Deco tile bathroom I have ever seen, but he also brought us poor slaving workers a batch of his homemade chocolate chip cookies. They were delicious and different from any I had ever tasted, so naturally I begged him for the recipe. I still have the original version that he scribbled in pencil on the back of a page from a long lost graphic novel that had some very bad dialogue.

There are two things about his recipe I find amusing. First of all, he calls them "Tollhouse Cookies," and yet I am fairly certain the original Tollhouse recipe did not include whole wheat pastry flour--or cinnamon or nutmeg or raisins. I suppose it is sort of like how everyone refers to facial tissues as Kleenex. Secondly, he calls for "one bag chocolate chips (a little less)," and I have always wondered if this is because he steals a handful of chips before pouring them into the batter. I know I always do--but I never thought to admit it in writing.

I made enough changes to claim this recipe as my own, but it is definitely based on Greg's. These are big, soft cookies with a wholesome flavor and wonderful texture that make a pleasant change from other chocolate chip cookies. And with the whole wheat flour and raisins in them, you can almost convince yourself they are good for you. But then again, some of us believe that all chocolate chip cookies are good for you.

As always, I urge you to seek out organic ingredients whenever possible--especially the butter, flour, and raisins. Enjoy!

Farmgirl's Decidedly Different Chocolate Chip Cookies
Makes about 18 large cookies

1 cup butter, softened
1 cup (packed) light brown sugar
1/2 cup granulated sugar
2 eggs
1 Tablespoon vanilla
1-1/2 cups whole wheat flour (not w/w pastry flour)
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg (1/4 tsp. if freshly ground)
1 12-ounce bag semi-sweet chocolate chips (or a little less)
1 cup raisins

Cream the butter and sugars for about 2 minutes. (I use an electric hand mixer on medium speed.) Add the eggs and vanilla and mix until well combined. Combine the whole wheat flour, all-purpose flour, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, and nutmeg, then slowly add it to the butter mixture, beating on low speed just until well combined. Stir in the chocolate chips and raisins.

The dough will be soft, and the cookies will spread while baking. For slightly thicker cookies, chill the dough for at least 30 minutes. Use a 1/4-cup scoop or measuring cup to form cookies and place on a heavy baking sheet. (Six cookies will fit on a half-size sheet pan.)

Bake at 350 degrees until the centers are barely set, about 16 minutes. You can also make smaller cookies; just reduce baking time. Cool on a wire rack. Serve warm or at room temperature with glasses of very cold milk. Personally I think they taste even better the second day. And, as with all chocolate chip cookies, they freeze beautifully.