Marshmallow Chocolate Chip Cookie Bars

Easter Sunday. Bethany Church. Then the family for dinner. Ham, baked chicken, all the sides.

DeAndre's birthday came around again. I made his favorite — andouille and chicken in brown gravy. I ate two bowls. I called Aunt Renee. We did not say much. We did not need to. The food was the saying.

Sunday service at Bethany. The choir sang. The pastor preached on Hannah and Samuel. I sat with Tanya and Marcus. The hymn at the end was the one Mama used to hum. I cried into the bulletin. Standard.

Tanya brought a casserole over Wednesday. The Tanya casserole. Half went into the freezer. The other half fed me Wednesday and Thursday. Mama's casseroles are the silent backup of my entire adult life.

I went to the gym Tuesday and Thursday this week. Twenty minutes on the treadmill. Standard. The body is the only equipment I have for the rest of my life and I am trying to maintain it.

Tanya's tomatoes were in this week. She brought a sack. I made a sandwich for lunch every day for four days. Heirloom tomato, white bread, mayo, salt. The summer lunch. The simplest pleasure of summer.

Friday night Darius and I watched a movie I have already forgotten. We fell asleep on the couch by ten. The dog (we got a dog last year, did I mention) slept between us. Standard.

Reading something light at night. A novel by a Louisiana writer. The voice was familiar. The voice was home. The book ended on a small kindness. I appreciated that.

Daddy sent me an Amazon receipt accidentally Sunday. He bought a power tool I do not understand. Standard. He texted twenty minutes later, "wrong thread, sorry baby." I told him don't worry about it. He said thank you. The exchange was the exchange.

Daddy called Sunday afternoon. He is sixty-something and his knees are still bad and he still has not gotten the second one replaced. I am working on him. He is working on me to stop working on him. We are at an impasse. The impasse is the love.

I texted Kayla about her latest design portfolio Tuesday. She is good. She has Tanya's directness and Daddy's eye for proportion. The design field will know her name eventually.

Anatomy lab three days this week. The cadaver work is what they say it is — not gross, not romantic, just human. I went home after Friday lab and made gumbo because the only thing that quiets the body after a day in the lab is the slow stir of a roux.

Crawfish boil at a friend's place Saturday. Twenty-five pounds. The shells filled three trash bags. Standard Louisiana spring. We sat at the picnic table for four hours. The corn was the best of the boil. The corn always is.

I drove past the gas station where DeAndre died. I do not stop. I do not avoid it either. The drive past is the drive past. He is twenty-eight in my head. He stays twenty-eight.

I sat on the porch Saturday afternoon with iced tea. The neighbor's kids were playing kickball. The Louisiana evening is its own kind of Sabbath. The cicadas were starting up. The light was the gold-going-blue light of the southern dusk.

I sent MawMaw a photo of my gumbo Tuesday. She replied, "too light, baby, keep stirring." She has not changed the critique in twelve years. The critique is the love.

MawMaw Shirley's recipe cards in the wooden box on the kitchen counter. I copied another one Saturday morning at her kitchen table. The collection is growing. She watched me copy. She corrected my Cs. She has always corrected my Cs.

DeAndre’s birthday came and went with andouille and brown gravy, and I ate two bowls and called Aunt Renee and that was the saying — but I kept thinking about something sweet, something to leave on the counter the way Mama used to leave things on the counter, something that did not require an explanation. These marshmallow chocolate chip cookie bars are that thing for me: simple enough to make on a weeknight after anatomy lab, sweet enough to bring to a table where someone is missing, and gooey in the way that only bar cookies can be — the kind of gooey that asks nothing of you except that you sit down and eat.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 28 minutes | Total Time: 43 minutes | Servings: 24 bars

Ingredients

2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp fine salt
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature
3/4 cup granulated sugar
3/4 cup packed light brown sugar
2 large eggs
2 tsp pure vanilla extract
1 3/4 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips, divided
2 cups mini marshmallows, divided

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Heat oven to 350°F. Grease a 9x13-inch baking pan with butter or nonstick spray and line with parchment paper, leaving an overhang on two sides for easy lifting.
Mix dry ingredients. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, and salt. Set aside.
Cream butter and sugars. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter with both sugars on medium speed until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Scrape down the sides of the bowl as needed.
Add eggs and vanilla. Beat in the eggs one at a time, then mix in the vanilla extract until fully incorporated.
Combine wet and dry. Add the flour mixture to the butter mixture in two additions, stirring with a spatula until just combined — do not overmix.
Fold in mix-ins. Gently fold in 1 1/4 cups of the chocolate chips and 1 1/2 cups of the marshmallows, reserving the rest for the top.
Press and top. Transfer the dough to the prepared pan and press it into an even layer with lightly dampened hands or the back of a spatula. Scatter the remaining chocolate chips and marshmallows evenly across the surface.
Bake. Bake for 25–28 minutes, until the edges are set and golden and the center is just barely done — it will firm up as it cools. The marshmallows on top should be puffed and lightly toasted.
Cool and cut. Let the bars cool in the pan on a wire rack for at least 30 minutes before lifting out and slicing into 24 squares. For the cleanest cuts, chill briefly in the refrigerator before slicing.

Nutrition (per serving)

Marshmallow Chocolate Chip Cookie Bars — The Sweetness We Carry for the Ones We’ve Lost