Levain Bakery Review: A New York City Icon Lands In Boston

A New York City cookie institution, Levain Bakery dominates the dessert world and remains a fan favorite for lovers of the big, heavy, and gooey cookies. Pam Weekes and Connie McDonald founded the bakery in 1995 on their love of massive cookies and need for sustenance during triathlon training. With nine locations and new frozen cookies sold at grocery stores nationwide, Levain is a powerhouse and poster child of the growing commercialized mom-and-pop bakery scene, in successful company with the likes of Milk Bar and Tate’s Bake Shop. They’re known for their iconic massive underbaked cookies, and an Instagram story ooey-gooey Levain cookie cross section is a rite of passage for some foodies.

The bakeries all have very limited standing and ordering space, leading to an almost-constant line out of the door, which only adds to the celebrity-sighting-like buzz of activity and Instagram post-inducing energy that surrounds the bakery. The smell of fresh baked cookies and a slew of people squatting outside scarfing down the cookies before they get cold are more than enough to pull in the crowds.

It’s no surprise that when Levain opened its first Boston location on Newbury Street on Feb. 19, that they were met with the same familiar fanfare. From viral food enthusiasts to unsuspecting shoppers, people near and far gravitated to these cookies. This hype begs the question of whether the cookies themselves deserve a cult-like following and sensationalized social media presence.

The well-lit interior crammed full of people and a simple display case of baked goods are set in front of a bustling open bakery, where massive heaps of cookie dough are scooped onto baking trays going in and out of the oven. A fast moving line and friendly staff streamline the entire process, just as any ultra-successful bakery giant with the means to design the perfect experience should be. With five cookie options and a few other miscellaneous baked goods, Levain keeps it simple and keeps its customers focused on what they waited in the freezing Boston winter for: the chocolate chip walnut cookie.

Clocking in at just around four inches in diameter, the cookie is a whopping six ounces, quite heavy, and over an inch thick. Baked every 30 minutes, a necessity considering the volume of cookies that pass through the door each day, every cookie is warm and melty, a move that’s imperative to selling the type of cookie that Levain does. Touted as the industry standard for thick, soft cookies, the Levain cookie doesn’t have a melt-in-the-mouth or ooey-gooey center: It has a raw one. The outside of the cookie has a satisfyingly crunchy top, with a craggy bit of browned dough and melted chips. However, the satisfaction from the cookie, like many aspects of Levain, ends at the surface level.

Likely cooked at an extremely high temperature, the top of the cookie is browned and crisp, while the middle is an undercooked, just-warmed cookie dough with a tough, almost burned bottom. Raw cookie dough enthusiasts definitely have their place among cookie connoisseurs — but this half-baked sugar rush isn’t quite the same. When cookie dough is heated but not completely cooked, the fat used in the dough seeps out and doesn’t bake into the dough. This mistake can be remedied by high-quality butter, but in the case of Levain’s chocolate chip walnut cookie, the palette is coated in a layer of what’s likely mass-produced, low quality vegetable shortening.

The thickness of the cookie is substantial, but in a cumbersome way. After three or four bites, the heft of the cookie begins to take its toll — it’s definitely something to share. The sheer mass and thickness of the cookie leaves the consumer clobbering through a huge mass of underbaked cookie dough.

For a cookie of such acclaim and fandom, it lacks a backbone of vanilla or butter, or really anything besides the texture of dough, melted chocolate chips, and untoasted, waxy walnuts. The dough is begging for a bit more salt to cut through the sweetness and to pull the other flavors out a bit more. Instead, the cookie is dominated by the squishy texture of the dough.

Sure, the cookies are warm, there’s melted chocolate, and it’s not anywhere near inedible, but for a bakery that has garnered so much success, Levain relies too heavily on the shock and awe of the line out of the door, the weight of the cookie, and the posts on Instagram. The acclaimed bakery unfortunately lets the quality of ingredients and the flavor of the cookie fade into the background in favor of the perfect viral food post.