I warned you this was coming. The mashup of all mashups. The moment in my baking career all will look back upon and point to as that one, special instant when everything came together.
Or maybe it’s just a nice post for a nice day.
Boys, this one’s for you. You like beer. You like donuts. And your feminine counterparts are pretty wild for brownies and anything with maple syrup. Actually, we like beer and donuts, too. Why gender stereotype?
Hey, it’s been almost a week since I’ve posted a PB and chocolate recipe. In my world, that’s one week too long!
There are times when life gets a little intense, friends. This is one of those times. It’s been a rough month, and reading the newspaper really doesn’t help. I don’t understand how people can watch the news before they go to bed. Do they want to have nightmares? Lie awake in their beds imagining worst-case scenarios?
I’ve realized something about pesky gluten.
You notice it’s not there when the flavor in something isn’t strong enough. Like in a yellow cake, it’s pretty easy to detect an absence of gluten. But in a peanut butter-based dessert or anything with chocolate, it’s much harder. Which is why I’m pretty decent at gluten-free baking. Nobody ever accused me of ignoring peanut butter or chocolate!
Every problem is an opportunity.
My mom used to say that to me when I was growing up and I’d be all miserable because the girls in my class were mean evil witches. My goodness, when it comes to psychological torture, girls have it down pat. I’m still bowled over by the behavior my classmates exhibited toward me when I was a kid, and I kind of wonder how they live with themselves today. Are they telling their own kids to go out there and make fun of the kid in class who doesn’t have the perfect designer outfit?
Anyway, I could write about this forever, so I’ll pause here and talk about the proverbial lemonade from lemons thing. Or in this case, brownie truffles from an epic fail.
Do you ever spend money on something you could do perfectly well yourself, if not for a certain lack of time and/or abundance of laziness?
Like scrubbing the toilet. I don’t like to do that. Not because I think I’m above it (I clean up my kids’ vomit, so I’m not above anything), but because I do a horrible job. It’s just not my area of expertise. Likewise, I avoid setting off bug bombs. Exterminators are my friends.
Time is scary.
I used to think that people who stretched as part of their exercise routine were total babies. At the time, I could push my body to crazy lengths and never feel a thing the next day except mild soreness.
Fast forward several years, and I’m no longer that brazen ignoramus. I’ve always been a hard-core exercise fanatic, but lately, I stretch with equal zeal and fervor. If I don’t, my body punishes me. And no matter what I do, that darned crick in my neck just won’t go away.
Sometimes wonderful things are staring you right in the face and you don’t see them.
Take my husband, for instance. I knew him for 7 years before we even thought about dating. I mean, it’s not like I never noticed him. He was super adorable. How could I not? But for some reason, it just didn’t click for quite some time that he was the man I was meant to be with. Luckily, we both figured it out.
I feel the same way about these brownies, though on a slightly less major level. I’ve made brownies for years. I’ve loved rocky road anything for years. Why have I never done this?
You know what food bloggers hate the most? Not recipe epic fails, though that is certainly near the top of my list. Not a lack of inspiration. Not the sinking realization that even though you made an amazing cake, someone needs it as a gift so you can’t take photos of individual slices.
Nope. The rain.
Happy Friday, y’all! I am on a break from all things digital today and tomorrow, but I will respond to your comments and catch up on my awesome Bloglovin’ feed shortly.
Apparently, it’s peach season. I had no idea. I always figured that peaches thrive best in the summertime, along with nectarines. Why is that not true? Can anyone explain it to me?
I’ll be honest. Given the choice between a peach and a nectarine, I’ll go nectarine every time. Something about that fuzzy skin throws me. I’m suspicious of it. But when I’m making a crumble and peeling the fruit anyway, it doesn’t matter!
Whenever I go to the mall, I always see the Godiva sign hanging like a beacon in the distance, beckoning me toward its glory. And sometimes I will stop in and buy some chocolate, especially the truffles. If you haven’t tried their red velvet truffle, just do it now.
But sometimes I want to make my own. It’s cheaper, pretty easy, and I can get creative. The hardest part about making a truffle is really just deciding to buckle down and do it.
