The Brownies of Disappointment

Last night, around 1 AM, I looked at my husband across our makeshift couch (2 beat-up old camping chairs and a blanket)1, and said, “Remember that time like a few months ago when I said, ‘I think I want brownies,’ and then I rummaged through the pantry and made a whole bunch from scratch, and they were, like, the best effing brownies ever?” And then he looked at me across aforementioned makeshift couch, raised a single eyebrow (Shrek-style), and said, “Hmm. Now I smell brownies. We must find a way.”

*Waves to super-supportive husband!*

Since it was after midnight, we decided we could wait one more day. So tonight was set. The big night. The big date. The big brownie bake-off. I knew it would be a challenge, considering 87%2 of our cooking utensils are packed, but I was up for it. Especially when Alex dropped the “can we get vanilla Haagen-Das, too?” card. He like, soooo gets me.

*Waves to super-supportive husband!*

This evening, palates appropriately cleansed from a superb Indian meal, we headed over to our friendly neighborhood grocer where I picked some random organic mix which included the words “double,” “fudge,” and “chocolate chips,” and got right to work. I even added in some additional dark chocolate chips not formerly included in the mix. Now, these things had to bake for 40 minutes, so I’m like, oh man these are going to be good! The smell wafting through the house (they even used the word “wafting” on the box)! The clever marketing messages! The organic-ness! Oh, the anticipation!

*Drools! Drools! Drools!*
*Waits instructed 40 minutes*
*Removes from oven; cools for 10 minutes*
*Drools! Drools! Drools!*

Then… finally! Cut, serve, and pile high with vanilla ice cream. And then… and then… and THEN…

Well, you read the title. You know what’s up.

Soooo disappointing. But the sad part? Do you want to know the really sad, sad, sad, pathetic part? I ate them anyway. It’s chocolate, right? Not great. Not mind-blowing. Just—ehh. So I probably wasted about 800 calories on brownies that were just ehh, and that got me thinking about other things like:

  • Books that suck from page 1 but I always read to the end in vain hope that they’ll have some surprise redeeming quality, like a detached but lovable protagonist underdog, but they never do, and I know it going into it but still…
  • Certain ex-boyfriends that suck from page 1 but I always kept them around in vain hope that they’d have some surprise redeeming quality, like remembering my birthday, or my name, but they never did, and I knew it going into it but still…
  • Overcooked pasta.

Sigh. Well, I guess I should eat another brownie. We have to finish the pan tonight to avoid this stressful reminder tomorrow.

1Sold former couch in preparation for move.
2Estimate only.

6 thoughts on “The Brownies of Disappointment

  1. Actually Browwnies are like ex-boyfriends..Some are Brown…some are nutty or gooey….some are rich….some are warm and soft to the touch…but hard….on the edges.. some are burnt out!!!!!Some ya want the whole damn pan..but they want to be shared!!!!! But they all if you leave them alone get stale and sometimes moldy..then you can only do one thing…DUMP THEM!!!!!!

  2. but think of all the calories you burned to make the brownies! scrounging up the equipment, going to the store, mixing feverishly, BENDING OVER to put the pan in the oven… the way i see it, you’re coming out even. and there are starving children who have no dessert at all in buffalo. they would happily accept even the most disappointing of brownies without complaint. (820 elmwood ave., apt. 3 – donations graciously accepted.)

  3. Ha, so I just read a cooks illustrated review of boxed brownie mixes, and THEY said that the kind you got were god-awful and the only boxed brownie mix that had any redeeming value was Ghiradelli. Perhaps another brownie night is in the works?

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