They were supposed to be cookies
I’ve been craving some baking lately. Watching Ina Garten and her Barefoot Contessa ways, I watched as she made Brownie Pudding, which was just under-cooked brownies. Something exploded within me. I had to make those brownies.
But I was short a stick of butter.
(Real butter. We live fearless in our house)
Game over. I would have to bake up some brownie pudding another day (like, later this week).
It was a listless Monday for me, as they will all be until August 1, and so as I stewed in my restlessness (even after being productive with things around the house), I decided I would bake regardless. I have enough ingredients to make something.
I decided on oatmeal scotchies.
First, I realized that I was low on oats. I threw in some steal-cut oats, but after the fact, I decided to read the directions and, of course, I should’ve cooked the steal-cut oats in water.
Once that happened, I threw those out and cooked a half-cup of the steal-cut oats.
All the dry and wet ingredients were already in the mixer, but when I poured the steal-cut oats in the mix, it made the batter real wet.
I added a little more flour, but I knew I wasn’t going to get cookies out of that batter. I got out the 9x13 pan and decided to call them blondies. They had the egg and vegetable oil in them, much like a brownie mix does, and I figured they’d stiffen. Less like a cookie, more like a blondie.
As it baked, I was happy with my decision. Then, I realized it was rising a little too much.
Never in my long baking life has a recipe gone from cookies, to blondies, to cake.
But as a friend said, at least it wasn’t burnt.