I pulled a brownie from the freezer today.
While eating it decided it deserved its very own post.
The thing about a frozen brownie is the texture.
It is chewy and there is a satisfactory snap when a semisweet chip yields under my teeth.
(Brownies aren't worth the time if they don't have a dump of semisweet chocolate in them.)
I discovered frozen brownies while I was pregnant; in a full-blown fit of chocolate jonesing.
I had thrown 1/2 a pan of perfectly fudgy squares in the freezer to keep myself from eating the entire thing in one sitting...a feat surprisingly easy to accomplish.
A few hours later I threw open the freezer doors and descended upon the bag in a frenzy that might have been filed one step under "attack-mode."
I contemplated tossing the cold cube into the microwave while I poured a mug of milk but instead took a bite.
I'm glad there was no one in the kitchen with me at the time...
my full-bodied reaction to the surprising fabulousness of it was akin to When Harry Met Sally's "I'll have what she's having."
That first brownie didn't make it long enough to duet with my planned mug of milk but the next one did.
I poured that icy milk and the way they played together was quite harmonious.
Cold on cold.
I don't have much of a point in writing this except to say that the next time you make a batch of brownies
- the old American classic -
please include some Tollhouse morsels in the batter and reserve for yourself one in the freezer.