Comfort Foods and Indulgences

I love living in California. We pay too much to live here, teeter on the brink of earthquakes and state budget emergencies, and wholeheartedly embrace political correctness as a lifestyle. Not that you could tell what we embrace, on account on those botoxed foreheads and stuff. And this is just Southern California; don’t even get me started on my Northern California Relatives.

In fact, while in Santa Monica last week I encounted no fewer than three-hundred-and-forty-seven placards letting me know that I could park only on the street between the hours of 8 to 1, that I couldn’t park there because my car used gasoline, no, wait, that the spot was actually reserved for visually-impaired drivers, or that the parking meter I did actually find didn’t take money but some kind of space-aged FOB made out of recycled water bottles and–my favorite– to be quiet or not to honk or block the intersection or use peanut oil out of respect for those with allergies.

I know what you're thinking.  Weeknight dinner and  the culinary term reduction are two words that do not go together.  But I double-dare swear that they do.  This recipe is so perfect for any night that is filled with reckless activities caused by our busy and crazy lives.  This recipe will take you back to the simple life you crave.

You cannot get this from a box, you cannot get this from an ox.  You cannot find this here or there, but you can make this in your underwear...or something like that.

I mean are you tired of your pathetic nightly dinners?  Does your family dread the dreaded chicken recipe again?  Have you been wanting your inner-chef-dom-tendencies to shine through without much effort?  This is your lucky day.

This simplistic, tasty, somewhat-savory, somewhat-sweet dinner is for you.  It is by far the most effortless (well, I guess McDonald's would be more effortless) weeknight meal you could possibly throw together.  And it's so good, you could even serve it for Sunday night dinner.  After making this, no one will believe you've running around like a maniac all day.

A brief summary of what summer represents:

• the beach
• the ice cream man
• lazy day
• sleeping outside in a tent
• staying up late
• movie’s under the stars (at Jeni’s)
• family vacation
• no homework
• s’mores
• fireworks
• Dodger stadium

S’mores, baked in a pan.  Go figure.  I found a FANTASTIC  recipe for a s’mores bar. Although the action of putting the marshmallow on the stick, setting it over the campfire, burning it up is all fun and games, these bars, baked in the oven can’t be beat.  I whipped up these, last minute, for a party that Eli was going to.  

Oh.

No, really, oh. Oh as in “Oh my, these brownies”  and “Oh damn, these brownies.”  Oh as “Oh I can’t believe this recipe is so amazing” and “Oh there goes any bit of self control I had.”

Get the picture?

You can roll your eyes a bit when you say “Oh”.  It helps.

Even though I don’t claim to have the world’s largest sweet tooth and go for salty over sweet most days, I can’t help but claim this brownie recipe as one of the best I’ve ever tasted. Because to me, brownies seem like the perfect treat in theory. Chocolately, studded with fun things like nuts or fruit, small and compact and enough to satisfy thanks to their rich nature. But sometimes, well, you can’t help but feel let down sometimes when you bite into a brownie that’s dry, too moist or not moist enough, tastes like a mix or worse, doesn’t resemble a brownie at all.