Gather 'Round for My Cookie Bar Confession

You know those days when you just want the comfort of a sugar cookie but don't have the patience to cut out hearts and stars (and then, inevitably, half of them get stuck to the table and warp into some mutant shape)? That was me last Tuesday. So, here we are: Thick-Cut Frosted Sugar Cookie Bars. If you've never had a sugar cookie bar thicker than a library book, you're in for a surprise. These bars have rescued me on too many occasions—birthday emergencies, baking with impatient nieces, or just satisfying my own sweet tooth at the oddest hours. Oh, and there was once the minor disaster where my dog got the cooling rack. (Don’t worry. No dogs were harmed, just my pride.)

Why I Keep Coming Back to These Bars

I make these when I want all the cozy sugar cookie happiness but (honestly) can't face a rolling pin. My family goes bonkers for these, especially when my little one gets to 'decorate'—and yes, sometimes half the sprinkles are just pooled in one corner. I've tried skipping the chilling step out of impatience, and, trust me, it's workable, but you lose that lovely heft (think cake meets cookie, but fuss-free). So if you’re in a hurry, I get it, but if you can swing it, that rest in the fridge helps.

Ingredients List (with a Few Family Substitutions)

1 cup (225g) unsalted butter, softened (I’ve used salted in a pinch—just skip the extra salt!)
1 ¼ cups (250g) granulated sugar
2 large eggs, room temp if you remember (mine never are, honestly)
2 teaspoon vanilla extract (my grandma swore by pure, but I use whatever is around)
¼ teaspoon almond extract, optional (I love it—my brother hates it, so you do you)
3 cups (375g) all-purpose flour (in a real pinch, I subbed half with cake flour and it was quite nice)
½ teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt (less if your butter is salted)
For the Frosting:
½ cup (115g) unsalted butter, softened
2 cups (240g) powdered sugar, sifted (or not, when I'm lazy)
2-3 tablespoon milk (any kind's fine—it’s more about the texture)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract (again, real or imitation, not a big deal)
Pinch salt
Sprinkles, lots (or as many as make you happy)

How I Throw These Together (Usually With One Hand)

Preheat your oven to 350°F (175°C). Grab a 9x13-inch pan—honestly, I've used ceramic, glass, whatever—line it with parchment or grease it really well.
Cream the butter and sugar together in your biggest bowl until fluffy. I use a hand mixer, but I’ve gone old-school with a wooden spoon if the mood strikes. (Warning: elbow grease required.)
Add eggs one at a time, mixing until each is combined. Then toss in vanilla and—if you’re feeling it—almond extract. (This is where I inevitably get distracted and start tasting the dough.)
Mix flour, baking powder, and salt in a separate bowl. Stir this into the wet stuff in batches. Stop as soon as it’s just combined. (It might look a tad dry, but it pulls together, promise.)
Turn that mass of dough into your pan. Spread it out—it's thick, so use clean hands or the back of a spoon. That corner bit always gives trouble, but just mash it in. Smooth the top as best you can.
If you can spare 15-30 minutes, pop the pan in the fridge. (Honestly, sometimes I skip this. Makes for a crumblier bar, but hey). Bake 22-26 minutes—edges should just barely turn gold, but the middle can look slightly soft. Don’t overdo it or you’ll end up with sugar cookie brick.
Let cool completely before frosting. You can speed it up on a wire rack, but if you’re like me, you’ll just set it right on the counter and forget about it for a bit. (Try not to eat a corner yet.)
While it cools, whip the butter for the frosting until very pale. Add powdered sugar in doses, alternating with a splash of milk so your kitchen doesn’t turn into a snowstorm. Vanilla and salt go in next.
Once the bars are entirely cool (I say this, but who really waits?), frost the whole giant cookie. Toss on sprinkles with wild abandon—or, if you’re like my daughter, create a small sprinkle mountain in the corner.
Cut into big squares or little ones, whatever mood you’re in. Eat and relax—no need for plates if you’re among friends.

Notes From My Kitchen Chaos

If your dough feels impossibly thick, just press with damp fingers. Sometimes mine is stubborn, especially on rainy days.
I’ve tried sifting the powdered sugar and also just dumping it straight in—can’t say I notice a huge difference in the end. I mean, who’s checking?
My frosting sometimes comes out less fluffy if I rush; a few extra whips actually matter here. Learned that the hard way.

Some Variations (Experiments & Mishaps)

Subbed lemon extract for almond: Hello, bright spring bars (but go easy, it’s potent stuff!)
Swapped half the flour for whole wheat: It was... fine, but not what I’d call a party bar, if you know what I mean.
Added mini chocolate chips to the dough once. Totally works, tastes like those bakery cookies mixed with a hint of nostalgia.

Equipment (and My Lazy Workarounds)

A 9x13-inch pan. Metal or glass. (Used a rimmed baking sheet once—the bars were thin but still scarfed down.)
Hand mixer is nice, but I’ve battered this dough with a wooden spoon and some determination more than once.
Parchment is tidy, but greasing works.

Keeping Them Fresh (Not That They Last Long!)

If you’re a wizard at rationing treats, these keep at room temp, tightly covered, for 3-4 days. Fridge if it’s hotter than blazes, but they dry out a bit. In my house, they vanish in twenty-four hours or less—so, storage is honestly sort of theoretical.

How We Serve 'Em at Our Place

We do squares for lunchbox treats, rectangles for parties. Sometimes—okay, just last month—we cut them with a cookie cutter into lopsided hearts and called it fancy. My uncle dunks his slice in black coffee, which looks odd but works. Do your thing.

Pro Tips I Learned the Hard Way

I once thought a few extra minutes in the oven would make them sturdier for travel. Nope. Dry as dust. Stick to just golden edges.
If you try to frost before they're truly cool, get ready for frosting lakes around the edges. Tasted great, looked wild.
Actually, I find it works better if you cut bars before the frosting totally sets—cleaner edges, less crumbling.

FAQ (Straight From My Inbox... and Texts!)

Can I double the recipe? Oh sure, but use two pans or one of those giant half-sheet pans. I once tried cramming it all into one pan and the middle turned out oddly gummy. Rookie mistake.
Do they freeze? Yep! Cut, frost, then freeze in layers with parchment between. But honestly, I always forget they're in there until months later and, by then, they're a bit blah.
Any way to make them gluten-free? I’ve used a 1-to-1 all purpose gluten-free blend and they were pretty darn close. Maybe a tad crumblier, but my cousin still devoured four in a row.
What if I hate almond extract? Leave it out! These are customizable like a pizza—no rules really.
Is there a way to color the frosting? Oh, for sure! A few drops of food gel, or even mashed-up berries for a pastel vibe. Just keep an eye on the texture.

And on a side note—did you ever have one of those days where you just need to bake something, but cleaning up feels like climbing Everest? That’s honestly half the reason I make these bars: minimal mess, maximum reward, and next to no regret. Give them a try and let me know if your family polishes them off as fast as mine!

Thick-Cut Frosted Sugar Cookie Bars: Soft, Simple, & Fun

Gather 'Round for My Cookie Bar Confession

Why I Keep Coming Back to These Bars

Ingredients List (with a Few Family Substitutions)

How I Throw These Together (Usually With One Hand)

Notes From My Kitchen Chaos

Some Variations (Experiments & Mishaps)

Equipment (and My Lazy Workarounds)

Keeping Them Fresh (Not That They Last Long!)

How We Serve 'Em at Our Place

Pro Tips I Learned the Hard Way

FAQ (Straight From My Inbox... and Texts!)

Thick-Cut Frosted Sugar Cookie Bars

Ingredients

Instructions

Approximate Information for One Serving

Nutrition Disclaimers

Did you make this recipe?