← Back to Blog

Seven-Layer Cookies — The Smell of December, Made to Share

Liam's first real Christmas is coming—last year he was three days old at Christmas, technically present but not processing. This year he sees the lights. We know because I plugged in the tree lights on Sunday while he was sitting on the rug and he stopped what he was doing—he was chewing on a board book—and looked at the lights with his mouth open and then made a sound that I can only describe as reverence, which is not something I expected from eight months old. Sean and I looked at each other across the room.

December on the floor. I have the crossword patient, Margaret, who is seventeen weeks into treatment and whose tumor markers are down for the third consecutive test, which is the best kind of news and which she received Tuesday morning with the controlled joy of someone who has learned not to count on things too early. We did the crossword for an hour after. I could tell the difference in her handwriting. When things are going well the handwriting is different. I've learned to read it.

I've been baking this week in the way I only bake in December: sugar cookies, ginger snaps, the shortbread with orange zest that I make every year from my mother's recipe and that is the smell of Christmas to me more than anything. The apartment smells like butter and sugar and the tree and there is a baby who reaches for shiny things and a husband who eats the broken cookies from the cooling rack before they can be frosted and it is December and it is ours.

The shortbread is my mother’s, and I’ll always make it — but the batch I kept coming back to this week, the one Sean decimated off the cooling rack before I could even think about a tin, was the Seven-Layer Cookies: everything layered in one pan, no mixer, no fuss, just butter and chocolate and coconut doing their slow, reliable work in the oven while Liam watched the tree lights and the apartment smelled like Christmas. They’re not elegant, but December doesn’t need elegant — it needs generous, and these are that.

Seven-Layer Cookies

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 28 minutes | Total Time: 40 minutes | Servings: 24 bars

Ingredients

  • 1/2 cup unsalted butter, melted
  • 1 1/2 cups graham cracker crumbs
  • 1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips
  • 1 cup butterscotch chips
  • 1 1/3 cups sweetened shredded coconut
  • 1 cup chopped walnuts or pecans
  • 1 can (14 oz) sweetened condensed milk

Instructions

  1. Preheat and prep. Heat oven to 350°F. Lightly grease a 9x13-inch baking pan.
  2. Build the base. Pour melted butter evenly into the pan. Sprinkle graham cracker crumbs over the butter and press gently into an even layer across the bottom.
  3. Layer the chips. Scatter the chocolate chips evenly over the crumb layer, followed by the butterscotch chips.
  4. Add coconut and nuts. Sprinkle the shredded coconut across the chip layer, then distribute the chopped nuts evenly on top.
  5. Drizzle the condensed milk. Pour the sweetened condensed milk slowly and evenly over all the layers — do not stir. It will sink and bind everything as it bakes.
  6. Bake. Bake for 25–28 minutes, until the edges are golden brown and the top is set. The center may look slightly soft but will firm up as it cools.
  7. Cool completely before cutting. Allow the pan to cool on a wire rack for at least 20 minutes before slicing into bars. For cleaner cuts, refrigerate for 30 minutes first.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 218 | Protein: 3g | Fat: 12g | Carbs: 27g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 85mg

Kate Donovan
About the cook who shared this
Kate Donovan
Week 141 of Kate’s 30-year story · Boston, Massachusetts
Kate is a thirty-five-year-old nurse practitioner in Boston and a widowed mother of two whose husband Sean died of brain cancer at thirty-three. She makes Irish soda bread and beef stew and shepherd's pie because the recipes are all she has left of a man who was supposed to grow old with her. She writes about cooking through grief and finding out you can still feed your children on the worst day of your life.

How Would You Spin It?

Put your own twist on this recipe — what would you add, remove, or swap?