Fatally Flaky

(Editorial Note: Adding pictures WHERE you want them on this program is still a puzzle to me. Help, Brooke? Anyway, the photo above is of Brownies Cockaigne, below are my Fatally Flaky pieces.)

Besides cooking, I also really like to read. Being at home full time, it is one of the only things I do just for me. Sometimes I read weighty, good-for-your-brain classics. More often, though, I escape into mysteries or the current 'chic lit.' One of my favorite authors in escapist mysteries is Diane Mott Davidson. Her protagonist is a nosy caterer, who I find amusing. (Why anyone would book her for an event is the REAL mystery. Someone always ends up dead...) The book always ends with the talked about recipes written out. Most are of the fussy variety, but it's fun to read through them and imagine we actually like such ingredients or that my grocery budget is bigger.

A couple of weeks ago, I finished her last book, borrowed from the library: Fatally Flaky. It was quite enjoyable, by the way. A recipe for Fatally Flaky cookies, ends up used as a literary device when the bad guy laces the filling with ipecac and causes mass digestive mayhem. Despite that plot twist, the cookies sounded yummy enough to attempt for a card making party I was hosting last night. I copied the recipe down carefully before I returned the book.

Yesterday, I was hard-pressed for time. I needed to clean the house, volunteer at Jack's school for an hour and make this treat for the party. I even put plans for dinner off, hoping that last minute inspiration would come. (It did-Curt suggested buying fast-food.) That vague adage about not trying a new recipe for company floated through my mind, but I quickly dismissed it. This recipe would be worth it. From the ingredients, I should have known otherwise. It called for 1 and 1/2 cups of oats and only 1 Tablespoon of flour and 1 Tablespoon of fancy dark cocoa, which I happened to have. A key step in the recipe was to melt butter and mix it with brown sugar until it bubbled. THEN COOL. I started to reread my version of the recipe. How cool did she mean it to be? She had me preheat the oven beforehand and it's already at 350. Surely, it must mean just a little cool. Being flawed by impatience, I went ahead and mixed the butter with the other ingredients and baked. Well, because the sugar/butter mixture was still warm, they spread to a giant laced cookie, not compact, strong ones to make sandwiches. BUT, they were delicious. I saved them in the freezer, thinking they will make good ice cream toppers.

I thought about making the recipe again, but this time totally cooling the sugar and butter. Do you keep trying something that fails, or do you just make new, better plans? I reviewed my errors in judgement and also the fact that the recipe still is untested as to its sandwich strength, so I instead went to my go-to recipe. My 'Brownies Cockaigne' from Joy of Cooking. They are simple, easy, one pan (if you don't count the bowl for beating the eggs), taste wonderful and are always dependable. I served them and received positive feedback for sure.

Aah, but I still long for 'the recipe that got away', with its sexy ingredients and challenging instructions. Why do I repeatedly flirt with danger like that?

Brownies Cockaigne

(from Joy of Cooking)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Place rack in center of oven. Spray 9x13 pan with Pam. (The book calls for lining pan with foil and buttering foil. I've never done that.)

In large saucepan, melt 4 ounces of unsweetened chocolate and 1 stick of unsalted butter over low heat. Remove from heat and cool completely. (This recipe is not quite as sensitive to the cooling. I usually cool it 5 minutes.)

Stir in 2 cups sugar and 2 tsps. vanilla.

Stir in 4 eggs, beaten.

Stir in 1 cup flour and 1 cup chopped walnuts or pecans until just combined. (Nuts optional.)

Pour into pan and bake until toothpick comes clean, 23 to 28 minutes. Cool on rack.