← Back to Blog

Chai Sugar Cookie Squares — Baking Through the Thing You Can't Say Yet

The playoff run ended Saturday. Bryan Station lost in the state quarterfinals, 35-28 to Boyle County. Clay had fourteen tackles, bringing his final season total to one hundred and fifty-nine. One hundred and fifty-nine. A number that will stand on the Bryan Station record board forever, or until some other large boy decides to hit people harder than Clay did, which seems unlikely but possible in a universe that keeps producing large boys.

The locker room after the last game was quiet in the way only final losses can produce. Clay sat at his locker for ten minutes. When he came out, his eyes were red and his voice was steady and he said "Good season." We went to Waffle House — the final Waffle House trip. Clay ordered his usual. I ordered mine. We ate in the specific silence of people who are ending something and beginning something simultaneously.

At Waffle House, between a waffle and a hash brown, Clay said something that changed the air. He said: "Dad, I need to talk to you and Mom about something. Not now. At Christmas." He said it looking at his plate, not at me. He said it in the tone of a man who has made a decision and needs to deliver it and wants to choose the right time. I said "Okay." My stomach turned over. My back spasmed. My hands went cold on the coffee cup.

Connie looked at me across the table. She heard it too. The tone. The deferral to Christmas — not now, later, when the family is together, when the setting is formal enough for what he needs to say. What does a seventeen-year-old need to say that requires a formal setting? What has he decided that he can't say at Waffle House but needs to say at the Christmas table?

I know. I think I know. I hope I'm wrong.

This week I made gingerbread. Betty's gingerbread. The same one I made this time last year and the year before. The sorghum and the ginger and the black pepper and the particular darkness of a cake that tastes like endings and beginnings. I baked it at eleven PM on Wednesday because I couldn't sleep, and I stood in the kitchen in the dark eating warm gingerbread and thinking about Clay's face at the signing ceremony — the smile that didn't reach his eyes — and the thing he needs to say at Christmas.

The gingerbread was perfect. The gingerbread is always perfect. It's the one thing in this December that I can control.

When the gingerbread is gone and the week stretches toward Christmas and whatever Clay needs to say at Christmas, I find myself back at the counter. Betty’s gingerbread is its own thing — particular to her, particular to sorghum and black pepper and thirty years of muscle memory — but these chai sugar cookie squares scratch the same midnight itch: warm spice, a dark depth of flavor, something that fills the kitchen with a smell that insists things are going to be okay. I’ve made them three times in the last two weeks. They’re what I bring when I don’t know what else to do.

Chai Sugar Cookie Squares

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 16 squares

Ingredients

  • 2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1 teaspoon baking powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
  • 1/2 teaspoon fine salt
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
  • 1 teaspoon ground ginger
  • 1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom
  • 1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
  • 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
  • 3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
  • 1 cup granulated sugar, plus 2 tablespoons for topping
  • 1 large egg
  • 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
  • 2 tablespoons whole milk

Instructions

  1. Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 350°F. Grease a 9x13-inch baking pan and line with parchment paper, leaving an overhang on the long sides for easy lifting.
  2. Whisk dry ingredients. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, ginger, cardamom, cloves, and black pepper. Set aside.
  3. Cream butter and sugar. In a large bowl, beat the softened butter and 1 cup granulated sugar together with a hand mixer or stand mixer on medium-high speed until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes.
  4. Add wet ingredients. Add the egg and vanilla extract to the butter mixture and beat until fully combined, about 1 minute. Add the milk and mix briefly to incorporate.
  5. Combine. Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and mix on low speed just until a soft dough forms. Do not overmix.
  6. Press and top. Turn the dough into the prepared pan and press it into an even layer using lightly floured fingers or the bottom of a flat measuring cup. Sprinkle the remaining 2 tablespoons of sugar evenly over the top.
  7. Bake. Bake for 22–25 minutes, until the edges are set and lightly golden and the center looks just barely done. The bars will firm up as they cool — do not overbake.
  8. Cool and cut. Let cool in the pan on a wire rack for at least 20 minutes before lifting out and cutting into 16 squares. Store in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 5 days.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 210 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 9g | Carbs: 30g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 115mg

Craig Hensley
About the cook who shared this
Craig Hensley
Week 90 of Craig’s 30-year story · Lexington, Kentucky
Craig is a retired coal miner from Harlan County, Kentucky — a man who spent twenty years underground and seventeen hours trapped in a collapsed tunnel before he was twenty-four. He moved his family to Lexington when the mine closed, learned to cook his mama Betty's Appalachian recipes from memory because she never wrote them down, and now he's trying to get them on paper before they're lost. He says "reckon" and "fixing to" and means both. His bourbon-glazed ribs are, according to his wife Connie, "acceptable" — which is the highest praise she gives.

How Would You Spin It?

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