TRIPLE PLAY BARS

At work, a friend’s birthday was fast approaching.  As is tradition, we all plan on bringing treats.  I approached a fellow office baker with the question, “What are you bringing in on Monday (birthday day)?”

With a sheepish grin, she responded “‘Better than Sex Cake.'”

Hum, the office had upped its game.  I needed to see what possibilities existed.  At home (NOT at work), I Googled “Better than Sex Cookies” and could not find any recipe that would live up to that name.  I did however stumble across “Slutty Brownies.”  Humph, silly name and a strange homage to ménage à trois.  I did not feel right even having it on my browser history.  Regardless of my hesitations, this three layer bar (cookie on bottom, Oreo in middle, and brownie on top) is spectacular.  Certainly not “slutty,” but instead demanding the highest levels of cookie respect.

As a result, I have rebranded this super simple, but in so many ways delightful brownie as “Triple Play Bars.”  Yes!  Summertime!  Baseball!  The beauty of a triple play!  That’s the ticket.  That’s the “Cookie of the Week.”  Enjoy!

1 pound Refrigerated Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough

1 container of Oreo Cookies (you will have some left over)

1 box of Brownie Mix, plus anything called for preparing the brownies on the box

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Press cookie dough into the bottom of a greased 9″ x 9″ pan.

Top with a single layer of Oreos, placed on top of the cookie dough in rows.

Mix up the brownie batter per the instructions on the box and pour over the Oreos and cookie dough.

Bake for 45 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean.

Makes about 25 bars.

Revised Source:  “Slutty Brownie” recipe on thrillist.com.

Oh, it was a hot one.  As I watched the baseball game, I applied sunscreen to the back of my neck, then ears, then face, then arms, then legs, then feet.

Recognizing that I may have missed a spot on my feet (perhaps between the toes), I applied more sunscreen to my feet.  Was I completely sure that I had covered all of my legs?  One can never be too sure.  I applied some more to my legs, then arms, then face, then ears, then back of my neck.

Before I knew it, I had reapplied sunscreen to my entire body during a time span of less than five minutes.

Gosh, I should really contact a broker regarding purchasing stock in the “Banana Boat” sunscreen company.  I would, if I could get enough sunscreen off of my hands to touch my phone.  Sigh, the plight of the (rather pale, but sun safe) 99%.

You may think you want popcorn chicken.

You may think you need popcorn chicken.

You may think free popcorn chicken would be a gift from above.

Well, in most cases, yes, but if it happens to be a few days old and sitting on the sidewalk in the hot sun, be strong.  Steer clear.  Better chicken surely is waiting for you, somewhere across a road.

One Word – “Ew.” Pure and simple.

Everyone who has ever met me, “Wow!  David, you got your son to baseball practice one minute early?”

Everyone still in shock at the proof are further amazed, “What?  Dave, you were two minutes early to pick him up!”

Everyone wanting to know my secret, “How did you do it, Dave?  How were you on time not once, but twice, in the same evening?”

“Easy,” I say…

“I shared a little coffee with Pokey, during lunch.”

Lately, I have been so good sticking to my diet, that’s why I was so sad, so deflated, so beaten down, when I entered my daily calories and came up one stinking calorie short.

There it was, all black, white, and especially red.  One calorie short.

No!  I have come too far.  Tried too hard.  I would not lose this way.

With my kids watching in stunned support, I stood up from the kitchen table and did sixty jumping jacks.

There!  That should do it!  Entering my minute of jumping jacks equaled ten calories, putting me nine calories into the black!

Slam dunk, boys!  Diet touchdown pass!

When you are so tired that you just insert a photo for your daily blog post.  At least it shows some All Stars and sticking with the evening’s theme should count for at least a run or two.

When all you have left is just enough energy to ensure that your kids have each taken a shower before bed.

Society of Tomorrow, you are welcome.

I’ll be the first to admit that I used to have a napping problem.  I love naps.  I would take them at every opportunity that I could get.  I was a napping addict.

I have however addressed my napping problem and now I only indulge when absolutely necessary.  When my body needs fuel, when it needs a full recharge.

Friends, today was one of those days.  Church, followed by lunch, followed by a large coffee, and I was still exhausted.  Lying down on the couch, I closed my eyes and what came next was true bliss.  Two hours of deep pure uninterrupted napping.  The way napping should be.  Such a dive into slumber that I wish I could share it with all in need.  I woke refreshed, renewed, and completely rebooted.

Yes, naps are a powerful thing.  Enjoyed in moderation, naps are a thing of beauty.  A divine gift of rest for all to enjoy.

First came the sweat on a hot day rolling into my eyes.

Then the sting of sunscreen.

Mix in a constant cloud of fine dust.

Then what appeared to be a heartbroken sadness.

That’s how this Pitchball Coach ended his season.  Not enjoying the view of victory, but rather squinting at a heat drenched defeat.

As I signed off the email to my Little League team’s parents, I figured I would leave with a hopeful note about the playoffs…  and planning to play during the championship game on Sunday.

“PS – It is also sage to plan on the Championship on Sunday :0)”

There, I even put in a smiley face.  Job well done.  Click send.

Then I read the message again from my “Sent” folder.

“PS – It is also sage to plan on the Championship on Sunday :0)”

What?  Sage?  It was supposed to say, “safe to plan on the Championship.”  Sure “sage” fits in a sort of an awkward-using-the-thesaurus-too-much kind of way.

Oh well, I shall live with it, because it is better to be sage than sorry.  Word.