Day 6: A Butt-Load of Brownies

Today we went shopping for back-to-school clothes. There is always a challenge when you look for clothes for young girls in the 6-7-8 range. My two Irish twins are starting to be too old to wear the smocked dresses and matching clothes (although, I don't agree,) and yet too young to be dressing like a a couple of hookers. It seems that the stores these days are determined to raise a generation of girls who like to dress like "ladies of the evening." So as a mother it is my job to veto the tramp clothes. Somehow though, the more sparkly, the more outrageous, the more flesh-baring, the more garish, the more they like it! Be comforted though dear reader, I stood strong against the pleading eyes of my two imps, and we were able to find several suitable and beautiful outfits (and shoes to boot!) that will serve them well in the next school year. (If it were up to me, Gymboree would sell clothes for 18 year-olds.) And thanks to my fairy-mother-in-law Mimi, all financial obligations were taken care of. Thanks Mimi!

Last night as I was cleaning up after dinner (or Fulghi was cleaning up - whatever,) Fulghi says to me "too bad that Barefoot Contessa doesn't have any recipes for desserts." So then I gave him the look, because, OF COURSE The Barefoot Contessa has dessert recipes, I just have neglected to include any in my blog, yet. So we have been commissioned with our next task: A Butt-Load of Brownies. I use this term, because when I told Tamara that my brownie recipe called for 4 sticks of butter she said: "Wow, that is going to make a Butt-Load of brownies!" Then she said, "you know that is not a technical term, but feel free to use it in your blog if you need to." Thanks Tamara.

The actual recipe is called Outrageous Brownies (pg. 172.) It makes 20 large brownies - and she ain't kiddin.

So then when I talked with My Mother on the phone, and told her about the 4 sticks of butter, I mentioned that I might halve the recipe in in the interest of avoiding heart attacks. She said "Now Melani, you have to follow the recipes, you can't just make things up as you go along!" (She must not be a fan of last-night's meatloaf.) "You have to FOLLOW DIRECTIONS!" My Mother is convinced that even at the ripe age of 38, if I do not follow every direction in this cookbook, I will somehow turn into a juvenile delinquent, and become a drain on society. The road to hell is paved with improvised recipes. For those of you not in the know, My Mother is a woman of great virtue, and is known to be meticulous with rules. Thusly, I have already sorely disappointed her on many fronts - natch. My penchant towards coarse rhetoric (read: sometimes I may, or may not use foul language,) has already rendered her eternally bereft, with countless sleepless nights tossing and turning, wondering where, oh where did she go so terribly wrong? I guess the least I could do is make the whole recipe, AS DIRECTED.

See Mother! I followed directions!

MMMmmmm. 4 Sticks of butter, 3 cups of chocolate chips and one bar of bittersweet chocolate all melted together in a warm creamy bath of deliciousness!

The girls - scraping the bottom of the barrel.

Tamara gives the brownies four thumbs up: two thumbs, and two big toes. When I asked Tamara if she liked the brownies, she said they were "one of the better brownies she had ever had. Not too sweet, very buttery and salty-sweet. Definitely a big-glass-of-milk brownie. Not to gag it down, mind you, only to enhance it."

Thanks Tamara.

When I asked Fulghi if he liked the brownies, he said "yes."

Thanks Fulghi.

A Butt-Load (Sorry Mother) of Brownies