Chocolate Chip Toffee Blondie Mix in a Jar

Easter weekend. The base chapel was packed. Pre-deployment workups have been ramping up. Ryan was gone Wednesday through Friday for a field exercise.

Caleb, 8, wants to be a firefighter still. Has not deviated. Hazel, 5, opinions about everything. Has Donna's directness without the diplomacy.

Spaghetti Tuesday. Meat sauce. The kids' second favorite after tacos.

I made a casserole because I always make a casserole.

Ryan's friends came over Friday for a beer. I made wings and chips. They demolished both. Standard Marine appetite — they eat like they are still on rations. The kitchen looked like a battlefield by the end. They cleaned up. Marines clean up. Donna would have been impressed.

The PCS rumors are starting again. The official orders will come in a few months. We could move. We could stay. The waiting is the worst part. Three years here and I have learned to not put down deep roots in any military town. Nineteen-year-old me would not have believed how good I have gotten at packing.

Ryan came home tired Wednesday. He showered, ate, sat on the couch, was asleep by eight. Standard for a Marine who has been up since four-thirty for PT and stayed late for a brief. The schedule is the schedule. The body adapts because it has to.

The kids' soccer game was Saturday morning. The other parents brought oranges and Capri Suns. I brought a thermos of coffee for myself and a folding chair I bought at Target three years ago that has been to four duty stations now. The chair is a more loyal companion than some of my friends.

Caleb's school had a fundraiser this week. I baked cookies because I always bake cookies. The cookies were the standard chocolate chip. They sold out in twenty minutes. I am the cookie mom of this PTO and I have stopped fighting it.

Ryan went to his counselor Wednesday. He always comes home calmer. I am calm too, just from him being calm. The man Torres was killed with — Ryan calls his wife twice a year on Torres's birthday and the anniversary. The military widows are their own community.

Hazel and I had a hard moment Tuesday at homework time. She is in a season of testing limits. We worked through it. We always do. She is mine.

I made a casserole for a neighbor whose husband is deployed. I dropped it off. She cried. I told her, eat the casserole, baby. The food is the saying. The casserole was a mostly-frozen tater-tot situation that took fifteen minutes of effort and six months of practice to perfect.

Wednesday morning meal prep — Sunday afternoon, hours of containers. The freezer is full. The future-me thanks present-me. Donna taught me this routine. Donna's freezer was always full. Donna saved her sanity with quart bags labeled in Sharpie.

I went for a walk Sunday morning before the kids got up. Half an hour. The fog was burning off. I needed it. Some weeks I get the walk in. Some weeks I don't. The week tells me which.

The Friday before-school morning was chaos. Three kids, two backpacks, one missing shoe. We all made it to the bus. I drank cold coffee at nine AM because that's when I sat down. Standard.

I went to the commissary Saturday morning. Got the grocery haul under sixty bucks for the week, which is a small victory. The cashier knows me. We talked about her grandkids while she scanned the chicken thighs and the family-size box of pasta. Small-town energy on a Marine base in California.

The military spouses' Facebook group had a small drama this week. Two women fighting over the playgroup schedule. I muted notifications and cooked dinner. Some weeks the group is the lifeline. Some weeks it is the source of unnecessary stress. The skill is knowing which week you're in.

I said the cookies were chocolate chip and standard, and that’s true — but what I didn’t say is that I keep a few of these blondie jar mixes assembled in the pantry for the weeks when standard has to be spectacular on short notice. The Chocolate Chip Toffee Blondie Mix in a Jar is the move when you need to show up for the PTO table, the neighbor whose husband just deployed, or Ryan’s Marines who will demolish anything you put in front of them without asking what’s in it. Donna would have had six of these labeled in Sharpie and stacked in a cabinet. I am working on getting there.

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 16 bars

Ingredients

1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup packed light brown sugar
1/4 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup toffee bits (such as Heath brand)
1/2 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
1/4 cup milk chocolate chips
To bake (not in jar): 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted and cooled
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Instructions

Assemble the jar. In a wide-mouth quart Mason jar, layer ingredients in this order from bottom to top: flour, baking soda, and salt (stirred together first), then brown sugar, then granulated sugar, then toffee bits, then semi-sweet chocolate chips, then milk chocolate chips. Press each layer down gently before adding the next. Seal with lid. Store at room temperature up to 6 weeks.
Prep to bake. When ready to bake, preheat oven to 350°F. Grease a 9×13-inch baking pan or line with parchment paper.
Mix the batter. Pour the entire contents of the jar into a large mixing bowl and stir to combine. Add the melted butter, eggs, and vanilla extract. Stir until a thick, cohesive batter forms — do not overmix.
Spread and bake. Spread batter evenly into the prepared pan. It will be thick; use a spatula to work it into the corners. Bake 22—26 minutes, until the top is golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out with just a few moist crumbs (not wet batter).
Cool and cut. Let the pan cool completely on a wire rack before cutting into 16 bars. Cutting warm blondies will give you crumbly edges — patience is the only required technique here.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chocolate Chip Toffee Blondie Mix in a Jar — The Cookie Mom’s Secret Weapon