I’m gearing up to write my thoughts on feminism and since I’m certain I’ll probably and most-likely upset (not intentionally, of course) at least a couple readers I decided that I should hold off just a little bit longer.
Just long enough to give you a recipe for brownies.
My hope is that you make these brownies right away and then stash them in the freezer and when you see that I’ve posted about my thoughts on feminism, you will quickly run to the freezer, snatch a brownie and start gnawing on it before you read the post. Then, while you read through my long-winded pontifications (that’s redundant, right?) your brain will be thinking lots of how-dare-she-think-that and I-can’t-believe-she-said-that thoughts, but your mouth will be saying oh my word, these are so incredibly delicious, and so in the end everything will turn out just fine between us and you’ll still read my blog and I’ll still dare to speak my mind, though I will always throw you a sweet morsel beforehand. Promise.
You better make a double batch of these brownies. No, no, I’m not preparing to make multiple disconcerting speeches, just the one for now, but I’m saying you need to make two batches because the brownies freeze really well, and well, they taste really good.
I’ve tried many different recipes for brownies, trust you me. I even made the brownies out of Cooks Illustrated, and those people always tie themselves up in knots, trying to create the best of everything. Their brownies, were good, really good, in fact, but I still prefer to make these when the urge for a brownie hits me smack upside the head. I’m not sure why that is. Maybe because I grew up making them and so the recipe is a part of my life experience, just like being homeschooled when I was little, being an oldest child, and being born with a chicken breast (don’t ask). These brownies are, like, a part of my identity.
And they are really good. Did I say that yet?
Why are they good? I’m not too skilled at food writing, but I’ll give it a shot. Um, well, if you don’t bake them too long and burn the edges and dry them totally out, they get moist, chewy, and dense. They are not cake-like, nor are they fudge-like; they are chocolate-y-like. You can add nuts and chips and frosting, but these additions are adulterations of the one, true brownie. This is a pure brownie. It is virtuous and undefiled, virginal and chaste. It’s wily and winsome, but yet modest. You see it and you want it.
So how’s that for food prostitution?
These brownies stand up very well on their own (in other words, served all by their lonesomes), but I also like them with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and some caramel sauce. Like, you know, every afternoon with my coffee, while they last.
Now go on—make yourself a stash. My feminist thoughts are just about ready to serve up (you haven’t sensed any vibes, have you?). I’ll dish them out soon enough. You best get prepared.
2 ounces unsweetened baking chocolate
7 tablespoons butter
1 cup sugar
2 eggs, beaten
½ cup flour
½ teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla
Melt the chocolate and butter in a heavy-bottomed saucepan on low heat, stirring occasionally, and once the chocolate and butter have melted, remove the pan from the heat.
In a separate bowl mix together the sugar and eggs. Add the egg mixture to the chocolate mixture and whisk well.
Add the flour, baking powder, and salt and stir to incorporate. Add the vanilla and stir a little more.
Pour the brownies into a greased, square (9 x 9) glass pan, and bake at 350 degrees for 22-27 minutes. The cake tester (or toothpick, in my case) should have little smears of chocolate on it when you check, but the brownies should be fairly firm to the touch.
Cut the brownies while still warm, but cool completely before transferring them to a plastic container (put wax paper in between the layers) and then to the freezer.