CYO basketball season finale this week. My third and fourth graders — twelve kids, three of whom can dribble, all of whom try hard — played their last game on Thursday. We lost by six points, which is our best showing of the season and which the kids celebrated like a championship because, at this age, "almost winning" and "winning" feel the same. I bought them all ice cream afterward and stood in the parking lot of the ice cream shop watching twelve kids covered in chocolate and sprinkles and thought: this is coaching. Not the X's and O's. The ice cream. The showing up every Tuesday and Thursday. The caring about kids who aren't your own because all kids deserve someone who cares.
The tamalada is this weekend. The Maryvale house is already in preparation mode — my mom has been soaking corn husks, roasting chiles, and braising pork since Wednesday. The mole negro is finished — a dark, complex, almost chocolate-colored sauce that tastes like the history of Mexican cooking concentrated into a liquid. She made me taste it on Thursday when I dropped off Sofia. One spoonful. It was extraordinary — smoky, bitter, sweet, earthy, with a heat that builds slowly and a finish that lasts for minutes. I said "Mama, this is the best mole you've ever made" and she said "I know" without a trace of humility, because Elena Rivera has earned the right to know when she's made something perfect.
Diego will attend his first tamalada. He's four months old and will contribute nothing except noise and charm, both of which he produces in excess. Jessica is bringing the fancy masa spreader she bought online — a plastic device that is supposed to make uniform masa layers on corn husks. My mom saw it on FaceTime and said "what is that?" and Jessica said "a masa spreader" and my mom said "your hand is a masa spreader" and Jessica said "my hand makes uneven tamales" and my mom said "uneven tamales have character" and Jessica said "I want uniform tamales" and my mom said "Americans." This was said with love. Probably.
Made advent cookies with Sofia this week — sugar cookies in Christmas shapes, decorated with frosting and sprinkles. Sofia's decorating technique is "maximum sprinkles, no strategy," which results in cookies that are eighty percent sprinkle and twenty percent cookie. She ate more raw dough than she decorated. I ate more raw dough than I should admit. Jessica said "you're both animals" while eating raw dough herself. We are a family of hypocrites, but we are a family, and the kitchen smelled like butter and sugar and the particular chaos of baking with a three-year-old. This is the season.
The mole negro gets all the glory this time of year — and it should, because my mom earned every bit of that — but the real magic of this season for me was standing at the counter with Sofia, both of us elbow-deep in dough and sprinkles, making cookies that looked like a craft store exploded on them. These sugar cookie bars are the recipe that made it happen: a forgiving, simple base that a three-year-old can help spread, a cream cheese frosting thick enough to anchor an unreasonable amount of sprinkles, and a taste that rewards you even when your decorating technique is, let’s say, enthusiastic rather than precise. If you’re baking with little hands this holiday season, this is where you start.
Sugar Cookie Bars with Cream Cheese Frosting
Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes (plus cooling) | Servings: 24 bars
Ingredients
- For the cookie bars:
- 3/4 cup (1-1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
- 3/4 cup granulated sugar
- 2 large eggs
- 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 1/2 teaspoon almond extract
- 2-1/4 cups all-purpose flour
- 1 teaspoon baking powder
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- For the cream cheese frosting:
- 8 ounces cream cheese, softened
- 1/4 cup (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, softened
- 3 cups powdered sugar
- 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 1-2 tablespoons milk, as needed
- For decorating:
- Sprinkles (as many as a three-year-old demands)
- Food coloring (optional, for tinting frosting)
Instructions
- Preheat and prep. Preheat oven to 375°F. Line a 9x13-inch baking pan with parchment paper, leaving overhang on the sides for easy removal. Lightly grease the parchment.
- Cream butter and sugar. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter and granulated sugar together with an electric mixer on medium speed until light and fluffy, about 2-3 minutes. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Mix in the vanilla and almond extracts.
- Combine dry ingredients. In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt. Gradually add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients, mixing on low speed until just combined. The dough will be thick and soft.
- Spread into pan. Press the dough evenly into the prepared pan using your hands or the back of a spoon. (Or, if you’re Jessica, a specially purchased spreading device. Your hand works fine.)
- Bake. Bake for 18-20 minutes, until the edges are just barely golden and the center looks set but still soft. Do not overbake — these are meant to be chewy, not crisp. Let cool completely in the pan on a wire rack, at least 1 hour.
- Make the frosting. Beat the cream cheese and butter together until smooth. Add the powdered sugar one cup at a time, mixing on low to avoid a sugar cloud, then increasing speed until fluffy. Beat in the vanilla. Add milk one tablespoon at a time until you reach a spreadable consistency. Tint with food coloring if desired.
- Frost and decorate. Spread frosting evenly over the cooled cookie bars. Apply sprinkles using the Sofia method (dump the entire container and press down gently) or with whatever restraint you can manage.
- Slice and serve. Use the parchment overhang to lift the bars from the pan. Cut into 24 bars with a sharp knife. Store covered in the refrigerator for up to 5 days.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 215 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 10g | Carbs: 30g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 105mg