Cherry Chip Cookie Recipe

Cherry Chip Cookie Recipe: Old-School Sweet with a Pink Twist

There’s something real nostalgic about the sound of a maraschino cherry jar popping open. The smell that follows is unmistakable—sweet, syrupy, like candy you’re not supposed to have before dinner.

And for me, it always meant one thing: my mom was making cherry chip cookies. The kind that stuck to the wax paper like glue and made the whole kitchen smell like almond extract and school bake sales.

I’ve been baking for over twenty years now, from backroom pastry kitchens to pop-up farmers’ markets in the Midwest, and let me tell you—this cherry chip cookie recipe still turns heads and steals hearts. It’s got just enough charm to feel vintage, but enough edge to sit proudly next to salted tahini or browned butter monstrosities on a café tray.

Let’s get into it. I’ll walk you through how to make them, sure—but I’ll also tell you why they work, what makes them tick, and how to fix ‘em when they don’t.

Why Cherry Chip Cookies Deserve a Comeback

Here’s the truth: cherry chip cookies have been slept on. Folks see “cherry” and think cloying or artificial. But that’s because most people don’t do it right.

The magic here comes from balancing that bright cherry flavor with rich semi-sweet chocolate and a hit of almond extract—which, in my humble opinion, is the secret to making maraschino anything taste bakery-worthy instead of bottom-shelf bar garnish.

What you get is a soft, buttery cookie that’s lightly crisp on the edges, gooey in the middle, and speckled with real chopped cherries and melty chocolate. A cookie that tastes pink. That’s the only way I can put it.

Ingredients That Actually Matter

Here’s what you need and why it counts:

🍒 Maraschino Cherries

Yes, maraschino. Get the good kind—the ones in thick syrup, not those neon red globes floating in watered-down juice. And drain them well. I mean bone dry. I lay them out on paper towels and blot like I’m fixing a mascara smudge. Any extra moisture will wreck your dough.

🍫 Chocolate Chips

Go semi-sweet. It balances the cherry. Milk is too sweet. Dark loses the nostalgia. If you’re fancy, chop a good bar of Ghirardelli or Guittard.

🧈 Butter

Real, unsalted, softened. Creaming the butter with the sugars until it’s pale and fluffy gives you structure and that rich mouthfeel.

🥚 Eggs + Extracts

Eggs bind and puff. Vanilla is obvious. But almond extract? That’s the real sleeper hit. It deepens the cherry and gives this cookie a little depth, a whisper of marzipan without going full fruitcake.

🧂 The Dry Team

All-purpose flour, baking soda, and a bit of salt. Standard, but don’t slack. Level the flour properly. Too much and you’ll get cakey domes. Too little and you’ll be scraping flat disks off your tray like regret.

Step-by-Step: My Actual Process

Step 1: Cream the Butter & Sugars

Get that paddle attachment going. Butter, white sugar, and light brown sugar. Let it whip until you can drag a finger through it and it leaves a trench.

Step 2: Eggs + Extracts

Add eggs one at a time—don’t dump them both in at once or the emulsion might break. Then hit it with vanilla and almond extract. Smell that. That’s childhood.

Step 3: Dry Mix

In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, and salt. Slowly add this to the wet mix. Not all at once. Let it come together gently. You want the dough to stay fluffy, not overworked.

Step 4: Add-Ins

Fold in your chopped cherries and chocolate chips last. Don’t use the mixer here—use a spatula or wooden spoon. That’s how you get pockets, not cherry paste.

Optional: A tablespoon or two of cherry juice will tint the dough a pale pink. Totally your call. Me? I do it when I want that wow factor.

Step 5: Chill (Optional, but worth it)

I’ll be honest—I skip chilling if I’m in a rush. But if you’ve got the time, chill the dough for 30–60 minutes. It stops spreading, deepens the flavor, and gives you thicker, bakery-style cookies.

Step 6: Bake

Preheat your oven to 350°F. Scoop 1.5 tablespoon balls (a #40 scoop is perfect). Place them on parchment-lined trays about 2 inches apart. Bake for 10–12 minutes, until edges are set and centers look slightly underdone. That’s the key—they’ll finish on the sheet as they cool.

Common Problems—and My Fixes

Problem: Dough too wet

You didn’t blot your cherries enough. Wrap them in paper towels and press firmly. Or chill the dough longer before baking.

Problem: Cookies spreading too much

Too much sugar or not enough flour. Make sure you’re spooning and leveling flour, not scooping.

Problem: Too sweet

You probably used milk chocolate or added cherry juice and didn’t dial back the sugar. Next time, try bittersweet chips and skip the juice.

My Favorite Ways to Serve These

• Holiday trays: They look beautiful next to snowballs or gingerbread.
• Ice cream sandwich cookies: Yup. Sandwich vanilla bean ice cream between two chilled ones. Insane.
• Coffee shop case: If you’re baking to sell, drizzle a white chocolate stripe over the top. They’ll fly.
• Valentine’s Day gift boxes: Especially if you tint the dough pink.

Storage & Freezing

These cookies hold well. Keep them in an airtight tin or bag for up to 4–5 days. They stay soft. Freeze them raw or baked:

• Raw dough balls: Flash freeze on a tray, then store in a zip-top bag. Bake straight from frozen +2 minutes.
• Baked cookies: Cool fully, wrap tightly, and freeze up to 2 months.

Variations (If You Dare)

I like this recipe how it is, but if you’re feeling bold:

• Add chopped pecans for crunch.
• Swap chocolate chips for white chocolate—go sweeter and more Valentine-y.
• Add shredded coconut for cherry macaroon vibes.
• Use freeze-dried cherries instead of maraschino for a rustic, tart version.

Remarks

These aren’t just pink cookies. They’re little time machines. Bite into one and it’s roller skates on linoleum, handwritten recipe cards, cherry Kool-Aid smiles. They’re easy, nostalgic, and totally underrated.

If you’re a serious home baker—or just a parent trying to impress the PTA—these cherry chip cookies will earn you a rep. They’re sweet, but not basic. Pretty, but not prissy. Soft, chewy, and honestly kind of iconic.

Bake them once, and you’ll see what I mean.