Festive cookies and bars for every celebration are literally the only thing keeping me sane right now, swear to god. I’m hunched over my wobbly kitchen table in Columbus—yes, Ohio, not the fancy one—surrounded by sticky notes that say “DON’T FORGET VANILLA” and a pile of sprinkles that somehow migrated to my sock. Like, I started this afternoon thinking “cute little party hat cookies,” and now my smoke alarm’s doing its quarterly cardio because I forgot the timer again. But whatever, these festive cookies are gonna slap at tomorrow’s potluck… probably.
Why I’m Obsessed with Festive Cookies & Bars (Even When They Hate Me Back)
My apartment smells like a cinnamon candle exploded in a sugar factory, and I’m not mad about it—except for the part where I dropped an entire tray of lemon bars on my dog’s head last week. Poor Milo’s still finding gold sprinkles in his fur. Anyway, these celebration desserts are my love language, even if my love language is “slightly charred and lopsided.” I blame my mom; she used to let me “help” with holiday baking, which mostly meant eating raw dough while she yelled about salmonella.
My Party Hat Festive Cookies (That Only Collapsed Once… Today)
Here’s the recipe I use when I’m feeling delusional about my skills. Don’t @ me if your towers fall—it’s character building.
- 1 cup butter (softened, ha, as if I plan ahead)
- 1 cup sugar (granulated, unless I grab the brown by mistake)
- 1 egg + 1 yolk (I fish out the shells with my fingers, fight me)
- 2 tsp vanilla (or 3, who’s counting)
- 2 ¾ cups flour (all-purpose, duh)
- ½ tsp salt (kosher, because I’m bougie when I remember)
- Beat butter + sugar till it’s fluffy or until your arm cramps—whichever comes first.
- Toss in eggs and vanilla. Ignore the tiny shell shard; it’s extra calcium.
- Dump in flour and salt. Mix till it’s dough. Chill for an hour (or 15 mins in the freezer when you’re me).
- Roll out, cut circles, stack with frosting mortar, top with a cone hat.
- Pipe teal icing. Sprinkle those shady star thingies. Pray.
Real talk: my last batch looked like the Leaning Tower of Pisa had a baby with a Smurf. I served them anyway.
Holiday Bars That Save My Sanity (Mostly)
When festive cookies feel like too much commitment, I pivot to bars. These eggnog cheesecake bars are my “I give up but make it cute” move.
- Crust: 2 cups graham crumbs + 6 tbsp butter. Smash into pan. Forget parchment. Swear.
- Filling: 16 oz cream cheese, ¾ cup sugar, 2 eggs, ½ cup eggnog, pinch of nutmeg. Blend till lumpy.
- Bake at 325°F for 35 mins. Overbake because you’re doomscrolling. Cool. Hide cracks with whipped cream.
I brought these to a Friendsgiving and someone said they tasted “rustic.” Translation: ugly but good.
Celebration Hacks I Wish I Knew Before I Ruined Three Batches
- Burnt bottoms? Scrape with a veggie peeler while muttering profanities.
- No time? Slap store-bought dough in a pan, top with festive sprinkles, call it “semi-homemade.”
- Transport pro tip: Use an old pizza box. Label it “COOKIES NOT PIZZA” or prepare for disappointment.
That Time My Festive Cookies Started a Family Feud
Thanksgiving 2023, I made pumpkin spice bars with a cream cheese swirl. Looked bomb. Then my cousin’s kid “helped” by adding extra cinnamon—straight from the spice jar, no measuring. We all pretended it tasted fine while our mouths went numb. My aunt still brings it up. Every. Year.
Okay, I’m Done Rambling (For Now)
Festive cookies and bars for every celebration are my hot mess express to holiday joy. They’re never gonna be Instagram-perfect, but they’re real—crumbs in my bra, flour on my jeans, and all. If you’re stressing about your own baking disasters, just embrace the chaos. We’re all just one overbaked batch away from a story.
Spill it: What’s your worst holiday baking fail? Comment below—I’ll send virtual hugs and maybe a recipe that doesn’t require a fire extinguisher. And yo, check this King Arthur guide for fixing cracked cheesecakes because I sure didn’t.
(P.S. I typed this while eating a burnt cookie. No regrets.)
