Homemade Brownie Quotes

Never refuse homemade brownies.

Local grandmas came in and out of our clinic bringing homemade cookies and fudge, because nothing soothes phantom limb pain better than a homemade brownie.

And he had no quarrel with dessert—a choice of chocolate, pistachio, or strawberry ice cream from Moxley’s, served with homemade brownies. His plate cleared, he

At night, my own century-old wooden floors creaked while I dreamed of her, as she looked before radiation destroyed her famously enormous hair and removed all evidence of her addiction to homemade brownies. I woke to clammy sheets and the grim reminder that Liz’s soul was not, in fact, speaking to me from beyond the grave. Rationally, I knew that memory synapses of plump, frizzy Liz were bursting forth from the depths of my brain. Emotionally, I wanted Liz back with me, no matter what her form—but getting her back would require a leap of faith that the rest of me (the stuff surrounding that Liz-shaped hole) just couldn’t take.

The next forty minutes are a festival of soul eating. I know many immigrant families incorporate their traditional dishes into the Thanksgiving feast, but not my folks. Our menu is Norman Rockwell on crack. Turkey with gravy. Homemade cranberry relish and the jellied stuff from the can. Mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes with marshmallows, green bean casserole. Cornbread stuffing and buttery yeast rolls. The only nods to our heritage are mustard-seed pickled carrots and dill-cucumber salad, to have something cool and palate-cleansing on the plate. A crazy layered Jello-O dish, with six different colors in thin stripes, looking like vintage Bakelite. Jeff and the girls show up just in time for desserts... apple pie, pumpkin pie, pecan bars, cheesecake brownies, and Maria's flan.

By the time Herman appears at six thirty, I've done a double batch of my version of an upgraded pinwheel, making a homemade honey oat graham cookie base, a piped swirl of soft vanilla honey marshmallow cream, and a covering of dark chocolate mixed with tiny, crunchy Japanese rice pearls. I've made a test batch of a riff on a Nutter Butter, two thin, crisp peanut butter cookies with a layer of peanut butter cream sandwiched between them. My dad always loved Nutter Butters; he could sit in his office for hours working on briefs, eating them one after another. I figured he would be my best taster, so might as well try them and bring some with me later today. And I've just pulled a new brownie out of the oven: a deep, dark chocolate base with a praline pecan topping, sort of a marriage of brownie and that crispy top layer of a good pecan pie.

Maria winks at me, takes a mouthful of stuffing, and rolls her eyes in ecstasy. The next forty minutes are a festival of soul eating. I know many immigrant families incorporate their traditional dishes into the Thanksgiving feast, but not my folks. Our menu is Norman Rockwell on crack. Turkey with gravy. Homemade cranberry relish and the jellied stuff from the can. Mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes with marshmallows, green bean casserole. Cornbread stuffing and buttery yeast rolls. The only nods to our heritage are mustard-seed pickled carrots and dill-cucumber salad, to have something cool and palate-cleansing on the plate. A crazy layered Jello-O dish, with six different colors in thin stripes, looking like vintage Bakelite. Jeff and the girls show up just in time for desserts... apple pie, pumpkin pie, pecan bars, cheesecake brownies, and Maria's flan.

We have seventy of Chicago's most passionate foodies descending on us in an hour, the maximum our space can handle. Lois and Eloise and Benji have been cooking from the book all week in preparation, making everything from homemade marshmallows and chewy pâtés de fruit, to homemade Oreos and Better than Nutter Butters. Caramels, macarons, miniparfaits filled with apple compote and vanilla custard and olive oil cake. Insane little chocolate tarts. Shortbreads and chocolates and my personal favorite, the Chocolate Bouchon, essentially a cork-shaped brownie that is one of the most delicious things I have ever tasted.

Stacy McKee (who is one of the new head writers at Grey’s Anatomy but started out way back in the beginning as the assistant on the show) IS the kind of mom who does crafts with her kids and puts photos of them up on Pinterest and Instagram. She works long, hard hours but still, you go into her office and as she’s talking scripts and story, she’s hot-gluing beads onto a princess cape for her daughter. I always furrow my brow and ask her why the hell she is doing this. Why? Or why the hell is she delicately hand-painting vistas onto Easter eggs? Or why is she doing any number of crazy amazing crafty things Stacy does for her kids? For the love of wine, why? Stacy will furrow her brow back at me, equally confused. “Why wouldn’t I?” she says. See, Stacy LOVES doing this stuff. She’d probably do it even if she didn’t have kids. Oh wait. I knew her back when she didn’t have kids and she WAS doing it. Stacy once spent days making incredibly lifelike renderings of all the Grey’s Anatomy characters out of pipe cleaners. PIPE CLEANERS. So it’s not about working moms vs. nonworking moms. It’s about people who love hot-gluing beads on capes vs. people who do not know what a hot-glue gun is. And it’s not even that. It’s about the non–glue gun people not assuming the glue gun people are judging them, and vice versa. Maybe don’t start out with your weapons raised. Maybe that Perfect PTA Mom didn’t even realize that homemade brownies could be a hardship. Maybe instead of yelling obscenities at the mention of homemade brownies, it would be better to stand up and gently point out that not everyone has the time or the bandwidth to make brownies.

Lois and Eloise and Benji have been cooking from the book all week in preparation, making everything from homemade marshmallows and chewy pates de fruit, to homemade Oreos and Better than Nutter Butters. Caramels, macarons, miniparfaits filled with apple compote and vanilla custard and olive oil cake. Insane little chocolate tarts. Shortbreads and chocolates and my personal favorite, the Chocolate Bouchan, essentially a cork-shaped brownie that is one of the most delicious things I have ever tasted.

It was a silly idea. Homemade brownies for the bouncer who’d pulled Eric off of me? It was all I could think of to thank him, because I was pretty sure Hallmark didn’t have a ‘thanks for saving me from sexual assault’ section of greeting cards. - Viv

she could sell in the café provisions she baked in her own time with a shelf life longer than pastries. When she thought of it there had been a rush of certainty she could do it, and a prickling of pride in having conceived a way to make money on her own. It would double at least what she was making now. Without Nicholas it might never had occurred to her. The other day he had stuck a label, which he had found in the junk drawer, on a plastic-wrapped loaf of banana bread. He wrote on the label with a marker, "From the Summer Kitchen Bakery." She had found the gesture adorable at the time and hugged him, but something about it had evidently started percolating in the recesses of her mind, and now she was lapping at the brew like someone tasting it for the first time and wondering how she had never before tasted such ambition. She was thinking of cellophane-packaged chocolate brownies and caramel blondies and orange-and-almond biscotti and pear and oat slices and butter shortbread and Belgian chocolate truffles, marmalades, chutney, relishes, and jellies beautified in jars with black-and-white gingham hats and black-and-white ribbon tied above skirted brims. She could even sell a muesli mix she had developed, full of organic cranberries and nuts and the zest of unwaxed lemons. And she wouldn't change Nicholas's label at all. A child's handwriting impressed that the goods were homemade. She would have his design printed professionally, in black and white, too, old world, like the summer kitchen itself.

Starters Corn chowder with red peppers and smoked Gouda $8 Shrimp bisque, classic Chinatown shrimp toast $9 Blue Bistro Caesar $6 Warm chèvre over baby mixed greens with candy-striped beets $8 Blue Bistro crab cake, Dijon cream sauce $14 Seared foie gras, roasted figs, brioche $16 Entrées Steak frites $27 Half duck with Bing cherry sauce, Boursin potato gratin, pearls of zucchini and summer squash $32 Grilled herbed swordfish, avocado silk, Mrs. Peeke's corn spoon bread, roasted cherry tomatoes $32 Lamb "lollipops," goat cheese bread pudding $35 Lobster club sandwich, green apple horseradish, coleslaw $29 Grilled portabello and Camembert ravioli with cilantro pesto sauce $21 Sushi plate: Seared rare tuna, wasabi aioli, sesame sticky rice, cucumber salad with pickled ginger and sake vinaigrette $28 *Second Seating (9:00 P.M.) only Shellfish fondue Endless platter of shrimp, scallops, clams. Hot oil for frying. Selection of four sauces: classic cocktail, curry, horseradish, green goddess $130 (4 people) Desserts- All desserts $8 Butterscotch crème brûlée Mr. Smith's individual blueberry pie à la mode Fudge brownie, peanut butter ice cream Lemon drop parfait: lemon vodka mousse layered with whipped cream and vodka-macerated red berries Coconut cream and roasted pineapple tart, macadamia crust Homemade candy plate: vanilla marshmallows, brown sugar fudge, peanut brittle, chocolate peppermints

And I am always going to yell “What the fuck!” at the PTA meeting if you tell me the brownies need to be homemade. I am already in the middle of a Great Mommy War and it is against my worst enemy—me. I don’t need another war against you. I’m betting you don’t need one either.

tip. I always try to catch a moment when I just stand back and quietly watch my family and friends enjoying themselves and each other. Let that moment wash over you so you can store it up for the times when life gets stressful. Those moments are like precious treasures we can pause to look at again and again. You might even keep a hospitality journal—a book to record the memories of your time together. Or, like we have, a guest book by the front door for our friends to sign so we remember our time together. Entries can be short and sweet, just enough to jog your memory: ice cream sandwiches on the patio with family and friends, game night with the grandparents, pizza party with the neighbors. You might write down what was on the menu, who attended, any details that you cherished—twinkly lights on the porch, the smell of homemade brownies baking, or jokes you laughed at, stories you shared. There

Tell me about your relationship with food." How can I tell her anything she'd understand? Has she ever eaten a pan of brownies in one sitting? A half dozen salad-bar baked potatoes? A baker's dozen? What is it about slippery-sweet ice cream, about half-melted chocolate chips or moist homemade birthday cake, juicy steak seared on the grill, creamy potato salad, watermelon freshly cut and dripping with juice?