Cannoli Cookies – Crispy, Creamy & Irresistibly Sicilian Recipe

If You Like Cannoli, Wait ’til You Eat These Cookies

Alright, let me just spill the beans right from the jump: every time I make these Cannoli Cookies, I end up eating about a quarter of the dough before it even hits the oven (don’t tell my kids). There’s just something about that mix of ricotta, orange zest, and chocolate bits that gets me every time. I still remember the first batch I tried to make for a family gathering—my uncle Carmine gave me that side-eye (you know the one) until he tasted one. Then he was practically pocketing them for later! These days, I make double—not kidding—because otherwise, there’s never any left for breakfast the next day (which, yes, you absolutely should try).

Why You’ll Love This—Honestly

Look, I make these when I’m mourning the lack of a proper Italian bakery nearby (rural problems), or when I just can’t be bothered to wrangle with cannoli shells (they always crack on me, it’s some kind of cosmic rule). My family goes crazy for these cookies because they taste almost exactly like the filling of classic cannoli, all cozy inside a crispy shell—without the fuss. And hey, there’s almost no frying, so you can avoid the whole shoot-fire-the-oil-up ordeal. My only true frustration? Resisting the urge to eat them warm. They’re a mess if you do, but I never listen. Anyway…

Gather Your Ingredients (Sub in a Pinch!)

• 1 cup ricotta cheese — I use whole milk, but part-skim sort does in a pinch (my Nonna swore by Galbani, honestly, any will do).
• 1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened — Sometimes I cheat with margarine if that’s all I find.
• 1 cup granulated sugar — Or sub half brown for chewier cookies.
• 2 eggs (room temperature, give or take—if you forget, just run them under warm water for a sec).
• 1 tsp vanilla extract—real is lovely, but I’ll be real: I use the cheap stuff half the time.
• 1/2 tsp orange zest (or lemon if that’s what you have, or skip if you’re zest-less; the world won’t end).
• 2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour (sometimes I go scant on this, like a handful less for a softer middle).
• 1 1/2 tsp baking powder.
• 1/4 tsp salt.
• 1/2 cup mini chocolate chips (or smash up a chocolate bar; I’ve done it in a rush, not proud, but hey it worked).
• 1/4 cup chopped pistachios (totally optional, but they do make them look a bit fancy-pants).

How I Make Cannoli Cookies (Mess Optional)

1. Pop your oven on at 350°F (175°C). Line a baking sheet with parchment (I reuse old sheets; judge away).
2. Cream the ricotta and butter together in a big bowl. You’ll want them nice and fluffy. If you’re like me and forget to soften the butter, just nuke it in the microwave for 10 sec. Does the job!
3. Add sugar, then beat it in ’til you can’t see big lumps (or until your arm tires—stand mixers make life easier here but do what you can).
4. Beat in eggs (one at a time, ish—I get impatient), vanilla, and that citrus zest. The batter might look a bit curdled. Don’t panic! The flour will fix this, promise.
5. Sift in flour, baking powder, and salt. Fold gently. This is where I usually sneak a taste (judge me if you must).
6. Stir in chocolate chips and, if you’re feeling posh, pistachios. Should look like thick, pale speckled dough.
7. Scoop by heaping spoonfuls onto the baking sheet (I use a cookie scoop when I remember where it went—otherwise two spoons, happily messy work).
8. Bake for 12-15 minutes, until edges are just tinged golden. Don’t overbake! They always look pale up top; the bottoms should be a bit crisp, though.
9. Cool on the sheet for 5ish minutes before transfering to a wire rack. Or eat one warm, like me, knowing it’ll fall apart (worth it; hot cookies are their own food group).

Things I Wish I’d Known (Notes!)

• If the dough turns out way too sticky, just pop it in the fridge for 30 minutes. Or the freezer. Actually, I find the flavor gets better after chilling.
• Once, I forgot the baking powder. Still tasted lovely—just flatter, more like ricotta pancakes.
• You can skip the pistachios, but don’t skip the chocolate chips unless you absolutely must (life’s too short).
• Don’t stack them til they’re totally cool. Trust me, otherwise it’s one big cookie-plop.

My Experiments (A Few Variations That Worked—and One Flop)

• Tried swapping ricotta for mascarpone once—ended up too gooey, but delicious. Wouldn’t recommend for proper cookies, but if you want soft whoopie-pie things, it’s not bad.
• Added cinnamon and chopped dried cherries (channeling Christmas vibes). Very good, gives a fruitcake feel that I think is criminally underrated.
• Hazelnuts instead of pistachios—honestly, they’re better than pistachios. There, I said it.
• One time, added almond extract instead of vanilla. Tastes like amaretti-cannoli hybrid. Not for everyone.

Gear Talk: What You Need (Or Don’t)

• Mixing bowls, obviously. More than you think; trust me, your kitchen will look like a bomb site anyway.
• Hand mixer or stand mixer. But if you’ve only got a big wooden spoon and some arm muscle, you’re golden.
• Parchment paper (baking straight on the tray works if you’re lazy—cookies just get browner underneath).
• Wire rack for cooling, but I’ve used the oven grates before. Not officially recommended!
• Cookie scoop—makes ‘em nice and even—but using two spoons is traditional in my house (and nobody yells at me for uneven cookies).

Storing Your Stash (Not That It Lasts Long)

Supposedly, these cookies stay fresh in an airtight container for up to 5 days at room temp. But, and here’s the rub, in my house they’re gone in a day, maybe two if I hide them in the breadbox (yes, I actually do that). Also, I’ve heard they freeze well—but they’ve never survived long enough for me to find out.

How We Serve ‘Em (Family Quirks Welcome)

Personally, I love dunking these into a cup of strong coffee or espresso (Italy truly runs on this stuff). My daughter eats them with a blob of whipped cream, while my partner claims they’re perfect straight, right off the rack. Whatever floats your boat, mate.

Stuff I Learned the Hard Way (Pro Tips, Kinda)

• Once tried to skip the chilling step to save time. Ended up with one giant pan cookie. Tasted fab—looked like a train wreck.
• Don’t overmix when adding the flour. I used to think more mixing = better, but actually, it makes them less tender. Less is more here, promise.
• I once mistook salt for sugar (don’t ask), and honestly, a pinch of extra salt’s lovely—for balance! But any more, and, well… nope.

Questions I Get (No, You Can’t Just Buy Them—That’s Cheating)

• Can I make these gluten free? Actually, yeah—I tried with Bob’s Red Mill 1:1. They spread a bit more, but still tasted spot on. For more tips on gluten-free baking, I like Nicole’s site.
• Do I have to use ricotta? It’s the soul of the cookie, but if you’re desperate, cottage cheese blitzed in a blender works ok. Not the same, but it’ll do.
• Can I freeze them? Like I said, people tell me yes. I think it’d work? Try flash freezing so they don’t stick. Here’s how I usually freeze cookies: Sally’s method is dead easy.
• How do I get them really crispy? Bake a minute or two longer and let them cool completely. But honestly, they’re supposed to straddle that soft-crispy middle ground.
• What’s the best chocolate? Eh, whatever’s handy—dark chips make them slightly more grown up, but mini semisweet chips are classic. Chopping up a chocolate bar works when you’re in a pinch (and I often am).

Alright, that’s it. If you make these (and you totally should), tell me if you also eat half the batter. Or, you know, just lie—it’ll be our little Sicilian secret. Oh! One last thing—if you want to try the real cannoli, shells and all, I swear by the recipe from Serious Eats, but only if you’re feeling brave. Buon appetito!