Cookies & bars are basically the only reason I drag my ass out of bed on Saturdays, like, no cap. I’m sitting here in my tiny Ohio apartment—it’s November, the radiator’s clanking like it’s personally offended, and there’s a half-empty bag of chocolate chips staring at me from the counter like it knows my secrets. Anyway, last weekend I tried to “meal prep” but ended up stress-baking three batches of cookies & bars because my boss emailed me at 8 PM on a Friday. Classic.
Why Cookies & Bars Are My Weekend Religion (Even When I Burn Them)
Look, I’m not some Pinterest goddess. My cookies & bars come out lopsided, my lemon bars weep like they’re auditioning for a soap opera, but damn if they don’t taste like home. Last month I made these oatmeal raisin cookies & bars—yeah, I turned the recipe into bars because who has time for individual scoops?—and I forgot the baking soda. They were flat as pancakes, but my roommate inhaled them anyway. Said they tasted like “grandma’s hug but make it depressed.” Iconic.
The Oatmeal Raisin Cookie & Bar Hack That Saved My Sanity cookies & bars
Here’s the tea: I use this King Arthur recipe as a base but swap half the butter for browned butter because I’m extra like that. Pro tip from my dumbass self: if you brown the butter too long (like I did last week), it tastes like burnt popcorn. Still ate three. Anyway:
- Brown butter till it smells nutty, not like a dumpster fire.
- Add a splash of coffee to the dough—makes the raisins plump and the vibe moody.
- Press into a pan for bars if you’re lazy (me). Bake at 350°F for 22 mins. Edges crispy, middle gooey. Perfection.
Lemon Bars: My Love-Hate Relationship with Citrus & Regret
Lemon bars are my white whale. I follow Smitten Kitchen’s recipe religiously, but every time I zest the lemons, I grate my knuckle. Blood in the curd? Been there. The first time I made these cookies & bars adjacent treats, I used Meyer lemons from the farmer’s market—fancy, right?—but forgot to strain the curd. Crunchy egg bits. My date took one bite and said, “Interesting texture.” We didn’t go out again.
How to Not Screw Up Lemon Bars (Mostly) cookies & bars
- Blind-bake the crust till it’s golden, not pale and sad.
- Use a glass pan—metal makes the edges too dark (learned this after charring batch #4).
- Dust with powdered sugar RIGHT before serving or it melts into a swamp.
Brownie Edges Are a Personality Trait, Fight Me
If you don’t fight for the corner pieces of brownie cookies & bars, we can’t be friends. I use Bon Appétit’s best brownies but underbake by 5 minutes because I like them fudgy, not cakey. Last Super Bowl, I made a pan and hid the corners in a Tupperware labeled “kale.” My brother found them. War was declared.
My Go-To Brownie Bar Tweaks cookies & bars
- Add espresso powder—makes chocolate taste richer, not like hot cocoa mix.
- Swirl in peanut butter for that Reese’s vibe but make it homemade.
- Let cool completely before cutting or you get a hot mess (literally).
The Time I Baked Cookies & Bars at 2 AM and Cried cookies & bars
Real talk: two weeks ago, I had a nightmare about spreadsheets, woke up, and baked snickerdoodle bars. The cinnamon sugar smelled like my childhood, but I cried into the dough because adulting is hard. My cookies & bars are therapy, flaws and all. Burnt edges? Character. Uneven cuts? Personality.
Wrapping This Chaos Up (Like a Crumpled Parchment Paper)
So yeah, cookies & bars are my love language, even when they’re ugly. Try the oatmeal raisin bars this weekend—brown the butter, add coffee, don’t be like me and forget the soda. Tag me in your disasters; I wanna see the burnt edges and weepy lemon puddles. We’re in this sticky, flour-dusted mess together.
Now go preheat your oven. I’m already eyeing the chocolate chips again.
