
Confession: I don't like brownies.
Clarification: I don't dislike the way they taste. I mean, if you handed me a brownie, I might shut up and eat it, but I'd do it more to be polite than because I really wanted it.
I don't ever think about or crave brownies, or chocolate cake, or anything chocolate really. Is that weird? I think that's probably weird.
At some point, I just kind of stopped obsessing about sweet foods. They say that'll happen, that you start preferring more bitter-tasting foods as you get older. It's true. I'd almost always rather have a hot mug of black coffee than anything sweet. Unless there's some kind of caramel involved, in which case I'll take both.
But let's go back to that scenario where you're handing me a brownie. Say we're at a party, or a bake sale, or at an off-Broadway theatre. (Strange but true, I was once handed a giant, unwelcome brownie in the lobby of a theatre in Manhattan. Actually, that happened more than once, now that I think about it.) Honestly, 9 times out of 10, I'm going to smile, take the brownie, say thank you, and maneuver myself over to my husband, Shane, where I'll discreetly pass it off to him. Because Shane loves brownies.
And I'm so glad he does, because boy do I love making them for him. I love the way the chocolate smells as you mix it in with the other ingredients. I stare down with the concentration of a child working on a finger painting, spiraling the rich brown round and round, whirling it in with the creamy yellow of butter and sugar, swirling my spoon until the bowl seems about to overflow with shiny, velvety, cocoa batter. Add a dash of Mexican vanilla, then a sprinkling of chopped pecans, and you start to believe that all of your desires just might be on the verge of coming true, colors seem brighter, every sound is crystal clear, and suddenly choirs of angels start singing Hallelujah as you slip the pan inside the hot oven.
But back in the real world, I'm really not that great at making brownies. It's one of the (many) skills that I haven't yet mastered, though I keep striving for perfection, armed with only a wooden spoon and an iron will.
Recently, I sat Shane down and grilled him on what he yearns for most in a brownie-based experience. I offered to make all kinds of fancy versions like s'mores brownies, brownies with pretzels baked in, caramel brownies (I try to sneak caramel in everywhere), but he just held up his hand and shook his head.
"I just want a plain, simple, old-fashioned brownie. Something that people might have made before boxed mixes came along."
I sighed, my fancy brownie bubble bursting, and agreed to find a recipe with nothing but simple ingredients.
I settled on one from Epicurious called Best Cocoa Brownies.
Now don't scoff at me for picking a cocoa powder brownie recipe. You need a cocoa powder recipe in your arsenal. You're not always going to have blocks of Scharffen Berger and Valrhona lying around, but I bet you always have cocoa powder in your pantry for those times when your loved ones suddenly shout out, "Make me brownies!" What? Your loved ones don't shout that at you? Weird.
My Review:
I particularly enjoyed getting to temper the cocoa with a double boiler (bain Marie). I don't think I've ever tempered powdered cocoa before, but I do like that kind of attention to detail, and my brownies did come out nice and shiny, with a satisfying crackly top. Overall, these were easy to throw together, and they came out lovely and dense with a depth of flavor that I didn't expect from plain old cocoa, butter, eggs, and flour.
I'd make these again, but if you have a beloved brownie recipe, please share! I'd love to hear about it.
Shane's Review:
Two chocolate-covered thumbs up.
Much to my pleasure, he ate them all. Not in one sitting, of course, but fairly quickly. I often think it's a good thing that I don't have children, because I'm pretty sure they'd be outrageously fat from all the baked goods I'd force on them.