My daughter and I share a sweet tooth. I like to think of it as my effort to take some of the bitter out of life. But enough justification for my palate, it is what it is. We decided to make brownies for dessert and it just so happens that I have at long last settled on the perfect recipe. I have made these brownies at least three times in the past 5 months. Brownies of the highest culinary stature. Nothing stupid added, no oozing carmel, rum raisons or white chocolate bullshit, no these are simple, sweet, instantiations of brownies. Can they last on the plate for one goddamn moment so that I can share the beauty of perfection with the world at large. Apparently not. I got so mad this last time there is really nothing else to do but post this portrait of myself drawn by my brilliant son. I can’t really add anything to it.
We decided to make them while driving back from our mussel escapade and were a little worn out, but…brownies are potent seducers, so we stopped at one more supermarket to pick up some chocolate and butter. Back at the house she took charge of the brownies while I cut up potatoes for the frites. While she mixed, she talked on the phone with her boyfriend who was coming that night after spending the last 4+ months in Nepal. This caused some alarm for me and I made courageous attempts to get in between the melting chocolate and my understandably distracted yet lovely daughter. Not without reason as it turns out. 1/2 an hour later we took the pan out of the oven: on the bottom was a layer of grainy brown covered in an oil slick of about 3/4 inch. My daughter was distraught. I was interested in trying to discover what had happened.
To top it off they smelled really good. I thought that was pretty cruel. Turns out my recipe is a little different than the average brownie recipe so when my daughter got to words like “bittersweet” chocolate, she just plowed forward with her unsweetened chocolate. Even when she was cognizant enough to say, hmm, this recipe doesn’t have very much sugar in it? This was not quite enough for her to say, wait a minute here…..
At this point I was of a more philosophical mindset: “What are you going to do?” I mused airily.
“Make them again,” she retorted angrily. Well, as I always say, never argue with a girl trying to make brownies for her love.
I’m happy to report that all’s well that end’s well- which you would have really been able to appreciate if I could have managed to snap off a picture before the hoards of students devoured them.