Mini Toffee Mallomars

Mini Toffee Mallomars

Father’s Day is Sunday.

My first without Dad.

Not a day goes by that I do not think about Dad.

More times than I can count, in the first two months he was gone, I found myself driving to his house, autopilot style (his house is two minutes up the hill from ours).

Every morning I walk through our library and say “morning, Dad” as I walk by his urn.

I still watch Days of Our Lives at least once a week, even if it is just on in the background while I work in the kitchen …but often I will schedule my lunch around that time, and settle down to catch up. Dad, I know you’d be loving the stories right now.

I also watch Barrett-Jackson auction from time to time, looking for your Corvette.

Yep, I talk to Dad sometimes. I used to bring him fresh juice and coffee every day, and since I practice this ritual daily myself, I am often wishing he was here. Giving my green juice the side eye, and drinking it with a smile.

I celebrate his memory, I think of the good times. We had so many good times.

He bought me my first basketball, when I was probably 9? I remember standing there in the store, looking at them all, looking up at Dad, how do we choose? He simply picked one up, you know how they have that half box going all around the ball, and he bounced it. Box and all. Okay, this one is good.

He also bought me my second pair of roller skates, my big girl serious skates. My first pair was the steel clamp-to-your-shoe kind. For my new pair, I wanted the tennis shoe style like my best friend had. Dad told me I needed the boot style, for ankle support. I was 7, I trusted everything he said.

My first piggy bank also came from Dad. I still have it. Bright yellow and perfectly round, with tiny feet and a long nose. I was 5 years old. He told me he bought it for me because it reminded him of President Nixon. Still one of my favorite possessions.

Okay, those examples are all things he bought me. But it isn’t the things (well, except for Nixon), it is the fun and laughter we had while picking out that basketball, it is the looking after me and making sure I was safe with the roller skates.

He instilled in me the values of honesty, frugality, and most importantly, service to others. My dad gave of his time and resources all year long, something I intend to continue and already have.

vegan mallomars

In these months since Dad passed, I have been the executor of his estate. This has been a lot of work, a lot. I would not change it for anything, because it provided me great distraction and something to do once I was not spending my every day with him. So I am grateful he trusted me to this task, as if he knew I’d need it.

As things come to a close with the estate, I am getting back into the kitchen more and more. Blogging again, working again. It is a glorious thing. I spent two days last week in the kitchen – cooking, creating, and shooting – while the French Open was on in the background. Perfect day.

One thing I did was make something in memory of Dad, in honor of Father’s Day.

Dad loved Mallomars. I made a mini version, with toffee in the cookie. I know he would approve.

Mini Mallomars

toffee shortbread

dairy, egg, soy and gluten free, vegan


1/2 cup butter (Earth Balance soy free)
2 tablespoons sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla paste
1 cup flour (gluten free all purpose)
2 tablespoons coconut milk (So Delicious carton)
1/2 recipe butter toffee
, chopped fine


Cream together butter, sugar and vanilla. Stir in flour 1/2 cup at a time, adding milk by the tablespoon as necessary. Combine until dough forms, do not over mix. Add toffee pieces. Knead into a ball, cool in refrigerator 10 minutes.

Roll to 1/4 to 1/3 inch thickness and cut into circle shapes (I used a one-inch cutter). Bake at 350 for about 12 minutes, until just golden brown on edges. Cool completely. 

mini toffee mallomars:

16 toffee shortbread cookies
16 vegan marshmallows (Dandies classic vanilla)
3-4 ounces dark chocolate (72%)

Arrange the cookies on a baking sheet with parchment – cookies flat side up.

Find the “flat” side of the marshmallows, and slice a thin layer from the flat side, making a sticky surface to adhere to the flat side of the cookie. Press each sliced marshmallow into each cookie.

Chop chocolate, and over lowest heat, melt in a small saucepan. Remove from heat. Using a fork and a spoon, carefully place a cookie with marshmallow into chocolate, using the spoon to coat completely. Use the fork to lift from the chocolate, allowing excess chocolate to drip away. Place onto parchment. Repeat with each cookie.

Set aside to cool / set.

enjoy, and share with loved ones.

Mini Toffee Mallomars

miss you, Dad.



  1. says

    Love this beautiful tribute to your dad. Anyone who has lost someone knows that feeling where you keep expecting your loved one to walk through the door. It’s so hard. I know he is watching over you, that he loves you so much and is proud of you. Love and hugs my friend.

  2. says

    Beautiful picture of a ‘day in the life’ of the grief and loss process.
    I could so relate. Father’s Day without your dad is a tough one. I’m sorry your Pops isn’t here, but you are a shining example of him and your bond of love 💗

  3. says

    What a great tribute to your dad Kristina. He sounds like he was a very special person and an awesome dad. I’m sure he would have loved those cookies.

    xo Julie

    p.s. I had totally forgotten about the tennis shoe skates, and how badly I wanted a pair when I was a kid. Thanks for sparking some memories of my own: )

  4. says

    I’m so sorry for your loss. My dad died a few years ago, so I can try to imagine what you must be going through. However, my dad and I were not as close. I hope the days will bring you comfort. How kind of you during your days of grieving to share something so beautiful with us. These mallomars looks fabulous!

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