The Sugar Cookie Recipe That's Now My Favorite? It’s 90 Years Old and Comes from My Great-Grandma

When I inherited my mom's recipe box, I had a pretty good idea of what I’d find: her pecan-heavy take on fresh cranberry-oat cookies; multiple versions of monkey bread; the sukiyaki I always requested for dinner; and tons of recipes for bulgur wheat. But then, I stumbled upon a surprise: a card in my aunt's handwriting labeled 'Grandma Anderson's Sour Cream Cookies.' A cookie tied to my great-grandmother, who passed away over 30 years before I was born? I had to try it.

The recipe had a lot of missing details. There were no flour measurements. Flavoring was listed as 'whatever you like,' not specific extracts. It suggested dropping the dough or rolling and cutting it, but no baking temperatures or times. It felt more like a concept than an actual recipe, but it was simple enough, and I was determined to figure it out.

A quick internet search led to several similar recipes, including one from Herbert Hoover's presidential library from the 1930s, which used brown sugar—something mine didn't. Another version from 1950s and '60s home economics books was close, but with different ingredient ratios. A McCall's magazine from the 1970s also had a recipe for cut-out cookies. All these versions, spread across generations, differed in shape—some were drop cookies, others cut-outs—but they all claimed to be family recipes.

These variations gave me the clues I needed to experiment. Flour ranged from 3 to 5 cups, and common flavorings were vanilla, lemon, and nutmeg, with occasional hints of almond extract or cinnamon. The baking temperature was usually set at either 375 or 400 degrees F.

One Sugar Cookie Recipe, Three Delicious Variations

I started with the simple drop cookie version, infused with vanilla and topped with a light sprinkle of vanilla sugar before baking. The texture was perfect—soft and cake-like—but a little too sweet for my taste. So, I made some changes: I added salt (the original recipe didn't call for any), skipped the sugary topping, and swapped a teaspoon of vanilla for a heap of lemon zest. The result was fantastic! These cookies are versatile, easy to make, freeze well, and have wide appeal. Even with my changes, I think Great-Grandma Margaret would recognize this cookie as her own, though I did replace her ½ cup of shortening with a mix of butter (for flavor) and shortening (for texture).

I then tried turning the recipe into a cut-out cookie by increasing the flour to 5 cups and allowing the dough to chill overnight. Despite its softness, I was able to roll it out between two sheets of parchment and used a basic round cutter, heavily floured. With both baking soda and baking powder in the mix, the cookies puff up slightly and maintain a soft, tender texture, similar to the pink-frosted Lofthouse cookies often seen in stores. These cookies would hold up beautifully with a thick layer of your favorite frosting and some festive sprinkles, but I opted for a simple lemon glaze applied while the cookies were still warm. A mixture of ½ cup powdered sugar and 1 tablespoon lemon juice gives a tangy kick and dries to a non-sticky finish as the cookies cool. I’m planning to pair this version with fresh raspberries from my garden next summer.

Finally, I revisited an idea I had after tasting the first batch of drop cookies: why not transform them into lemon whoopie pies? I think Great-Grandma would have approved, as this is now my favorite way to enjoy her timeless cookies. For the filling, I made a buttercream with one stick of softened butter, 1 ½ cups powdered sugar, a pinch of salt, 1 tablespoon of milk (heavy cream works too), and ¼ cup of homemade lemon curd (which I always keep in my freezer). This buttercream is perfect for filling twelve whoopie pie sandwiches, and while they can be stored in the fridge overnight, they are best enjoyed at room temperature.

My great-grandmother's sugar cookies are a far cry from the kind I grew up with — the kind of dry, tough dough that busy parents throw together for kids to cover in sprinkles. When it comes to both flavor and texture, the drop cookies I made from her recipe are so far superior that they barely even deserve to share the name 'sugar cookie.' The cookies I remember from childhood? Forgettable at best. But these melt-in-your-mouth versions will absolutely be a regular in my baking lineup.

The final step? Writing out my three variations — with all the proper measurements and baking times, of course — on one of my mom's spare index cards, and tucking those back into her recipe box along with the original. You're welcome, future generations of bakers!

Here’s the recipe for my Great Grandma’s Sour Cream Drop Cookies — now complete with all the ingredient details and baking instructions filled in — so you can bake them in your own kitchen too.