Birthday Brownies

"Okay," Masha says, "so we will meet you at the bar at 7, right? What are your big exciting birthday plans before tonight? You going out?"

And with just a little too much enthusiasm I shout, "Mr. Gastro and I are making brownies! From scratch!!"

Masha chooses not to take the opportunity to point out how totally dorky this might actually sound when said out loud, perhaps a small act of kindness in honor of my birthday. But it seems pretty clear to me as soon as the words come spilling out of my mouth that not everyone considers spending a morning at the grocery store, and the afternoon stuck in a cramped windowless kitchen to be thrilling birthday plans. Then again, not everyone feels the need to blog about nearly every morsel of food that passes through their life, so the brownie thing should come as a surprise to no one.

But I digress.

Brownies were the project du jour on Tuesday, before Mr. Gastro and a rotating cast of characters met me at Barbara Lynch's Drink in Fort Point for fancy cocktails. (Review of the evening's festivities forthcoming in the next blog.) I briefly considered baking a cake in honor of my big 25, but the prospect of baking my own birthday cake just seemed too sad for words. Brownies, on the other hand, seemed simply delicious. And consider for a moment if you will, the birthday cake:

I am one of those people who pretty much only eats cake for the frosting. Yes. It's true. I am a child. But it could be worse. Here is one of my favorite quotes from my mother on the subject: "Seriously, bourbon is the only way I can stomach cake... Yeah, I said it." (A true Southern girl at heart). But really, even if you're not a disgusting, sticky fingered frosting eater like myself, nobody ever bakes a cake and leaves the frosting off. I mean really, you guys who turn up your noses at our blue icing stained lips and sugar palsied hands, the ones who say, "Yeah, I just don't like frosting that much," (Lies.) You would never dream of baking a birthday cake and not frosting it. Because cake needs frosting. It's nothing without it.

Brownies on the other hand...

Seriously, ask yourself, what would you rather have? A dry, unfrosted birthday cake, or a big fudgy tray of homemade brownies? (Which need no frosting at all, as brownies are clearly a superior birthday treat to cake. Obviously.) Yeah, that's what I thought.

Anyway, my lack of enthusiasm for cake aside, these were some excellent brownies, and I am beginning to see that there is no cookbook in the world that can beat my America's Test Kitchen Best Recipe Cookbook. This recipe was easy and totally tasty. Moist and fudgy in the center (Even when eaten the next day. For breakfast.) And with just a little bit of that perfect shiny, papery top. Mmm. Now any normal person would ask me why on earth I wouldn't just buy a boxed brownie mix for like, $3 instead of going to the trouble of making them from scratch, and to that person I say, A) "Um, I'm sorry, how do I know you again?" and B) We're not having fun until you have to break out the double boiler. Seriously. Melting satiny dark chocolate and creamy butter on the stove-top. whisking in that velvety dusting of pure cocoa. Flour in the air, chocolate on your sleeves, risking salmonella just to lick the spoon, even though your mother told you never to lick the spoon when the batter has raw eggs in it. You know you love it.

This project was exactly what I needed on this particular birthday as I'm realizing, no, I'm not a kid, I'm a quarter of a damn century old (As my mother so delicately reminded me. Thanks Mom), but dammit, I can still get flour all over the kitchen, I can still sneak bits of chocolate for myself before they go into the mix, and I can still lick the spoon. And the bowl. And the other spoon.

And if nothing else, this project provided the absolutely hysterical picture of Mr. Gastro caught in the act, seen above. I'd say he's a team brownie guy as well.