Did you hear that?  That hit hard.  All sorts of crashing action.  Wait, that plummeting blob was me.  Post caffeine high.  Bam!  Damn Daylight Savings Time.  Look to the light, in the sky, it’s called the sun.

HEALTHY M&M PIE

“In anticipation of tomorrow’s celebration of Pi Day (3.14), I baked up a brownie ‘pie.’ In addition to being all thematic and what not, this yummy ‘pie’ is sorta healthy with its applesauce and whole wheat flour ingredients.  Winning.  Plus, you shouldn’t worry, because this healthy ‘pie’ still tastes all sorts of yummy brownie-ish.  My only warning is the texture.  You know how brownies can range from cakey to gooey?  Well, these brownies certainly lie on the far end of the gooey spectrum.  You’ve been warned.  Enjoy!”

¼ cup Butter, melted

½ cup Cocoa Powder

1 cup Sugar

¼ cup Unsweetened Applesauce

2 Eggs

1 teaspoon Vanilla Extract

2/3 cup Whole Wheat Flour

½ teaspoon Baking Powder

¼ teaspoon Salt

1 cup M&Ms

1/3 cup M&Ms

 

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Mix together the melted butter, cocoa powder, sugar, and applesauce.

Mix in the eggs and vanilla extract.

Mix in the whole wheat flour, baking powder, and salt.

Mix in the 1 cup M&Ms.

Pour batter into a greased a 9” pie pan.

Top with the remaining 1/3 cup M&Ms.

Bake for 30-35 minutes or until the sides of the brownie have set and a toothpick comes out clean.

Trust your instinct regarding when these are done and remember, they tend to be gooey by nature.

 

Makes about 12 slice of pie shaped brownies.

Revised Source: “Sorta Healthy Brownies” recipe on www.penzeys.com.

 

Our new kitchen has a counter-peninsula-type-thing (official kitchen term, patent pending), with three bar stools.  This layout has resulted in a charming little morning routine.  Three boys lined up at the counter, as their father shovels food toward them.

Last week, as the boys dug into their bowls of Lucky Charms (yes, dad worked really hard preparing breakfast that morning, but hey, it is almost St. Patrick’s Day and who does not want to eat pure sugar early in the morning), hum where was I?  Oh yes, the boys were eating their first (yes, first) breakfast of the morning and I had a few seconds to prepare my own grub.  Reaching for the Quaker Oats, I prepared them the old fashioned way.  The way people have prepared oats for over thirty classic years, with microwave magic.  Who really cares how those oats are insufferably boiling from the inside out?  Cook, baby, cook.

So my oats were under production.  Oats.  Check.  Milk.  Check.  Stir, just a tad.  Check.  Dash of salt.  Check.  The boys paid no attention.  They scarfed down compressed marshmallow-like bits shaped like rainbows, clovers, and other such charming stuff.  Magically delicious.  I had to bring this party back home.

Turning to the boys, I asked?  “What is my oatmeal missing?”  They looked at me puzzled.  Heading to the kitchen window, I reached high above the sink.  Pinching at some air, bright morning light streamed onto my face.  Smiling, I rubbed my pinched fingers over my raw oats.  Glancing at my boys, I said in all sincerity, “They needed a dash of sunshine.”  One child smiled.  Another looked mildly confused.  There was however a consensus, “Our father is a goof, but a happy goof.  We’ll keep him around and consider feeding him, when he grows old.”  (Okay, I’m just hoping they’ll decide to feed me later in life.)

Over the next few days, the skit continued.  A reference to sunshine shortages on cloudy days.  A story about how I was shopping for the right container to bottle sunshine.  Talking about sunshine’s free market value.  Dropping them off at school and pretending to sprinkle some sunshine on their heads.  You get the idea, I was blathering on and my kids were lovingly tolerant.  Nothing unusual.

Then came the inevitable.  A grumpy morning for dad.  (I know, my seven faithful readers are saying, “Gasp!,” but it’s true.  Mr. Sunshine sometimes becomes Grumpy Bunny.)  I’m not sure what had me all sour.  Toilet backups, disputes over morning routines, car shopping interest rates, unreported homework assignments are all candidates, in this instance however, I can’t recall.  Any who, grumpy pop was serving up food with a scowl.  That’s when my 9-year-old son Sam looked at me, smiled, and said, “Dad, you need a little sunshine.”  Yep, Sam was right and I turned to my boys.  Seeing my own eyes in their young faces, I was reminded that in my kids, God has blessed me with a lifetime supply of sunshine.  Little happiness factories.  I would never be in need.  I smiled.  The grumpiness had passed.  Sometimes, just a sprinkle of sunshine is all you need.

 

Flowers?  Bunnies?  Showers?  Warming temps?  They all sound like signs of Spring, but you’re missing the surest sign of all:  filthy clothes.  Filthy beyond-all-measure-of-reasonable-explanation clothing.

The emergence of “Shout” laundry pre-wash treatment?  That’s sign number 2.  #TimeToBuyStockInShout

COOKIES AND CREAM BROWNIES

“Even though this week’s recipe is a little late, it’s well worth the wait.  The smooth texture of cream cheese coupled with an irresistible touch of Oreo cookies make this brownie satisfying for both your cookie and your cream desires.  Enjoy!”

BROWNIE INGREDIENTS

12 Oreo cookies

½ cup Butter

½ cup Sugar

½ cup Brown Sugar

½ cup Baking Cocoa

2 Eggs

1 teaspoon Vanilla Extract

½ cup Flour

1 teaspoon Baking Powder

CREAM CHEESE TOPPING INGREDIENTS

8 ounces Cream Cheese, softened

¼ cup Sugar

1 Egg

½ teaspoon Vanilla Extract

 

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Crush the Oreos and set aside.

Melt the butter.

Mix together the butter, sugar, brown sugar, and baking cocoa.

Mix in the eggs and vanilla extract.

Mix in the flour and baking powder.

Stir in the crushed Oreos.

Pour the brownie batter into a greased 9”x9” baking pan.

Mix together the cream cheese, sugar, egg, and vanilla extract.

Pour the cream cheese mixture evenly over the brownie batter.

Cut a knife through the brownies to create a swirled interior.

Bake for 30 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean.

Cool completely on a wire rack.

Cut into squares and store in a refrigerator.

 

Makes about 25 brownies.

Revised Source:  “Cookies ‘n’ Cream Brownies” recipe in “The Taste of Home Baking Book.”

 

My new job has several buildings.  This is all well and good, but it takes a while to learn the various layouts.  So I had set up a meeting in an offsite location and I had never previously been to the meeting room in question.  All well and good, I could manage this, or so I thought.

Oh, I failed to mention that several of the folks in the meeting I have never previously met.  So there we have it, two wild cards.  The unknown room and the unmet participants.  Why not leave just enough time to arrive at the meeting just a minute or two before it starts?  Good thinking, new guy.

Even though I was cutting it close, I did find a sign directing me to the meeting room.  I was well on my way to okay.

Taking a hard right, I saw a previously unmet coworker standing outside a closed door.  Using my underdeveloped skills of reason, I glanced at the closed door and sure enough the room number matched my destination.  Aces.

Barreling ahead, I burst into the room and proceeded to start rearranging the furniture.  Taking charge.  Way to go, slugger.

As I moved tables here and there, I began briefly chatting with the other meeting attendee, who had soon followed me into the room.  At this point, she said, “I had not entered the room, because of the sign on the door, but you just went right in.”  Sign?  What sign?  Sure enough, a sign was hanging on the door that read, “Meeting in Progress” and then named the highly important meeting that I would not have wanted to barge in on.  Thankfully, a false alarm caused by a sign that had not been removed upon completion of the highly important meeting.  Yep, unknowingly I had almost burst in on a meeting.  A highly important don’t-wanna-barge-in-on type of meeting.  Sort of a “Hey, I’m here!  Let’s get this party started!”  kind of move.  Sigh of relief.

Later, as the meeting progressed (the meeting I had actually planned on attending in the first place), I began to reflect upon my little adventure and what it said about me as a person.  Either it meant that I was acting in a moment of über self-confidence or ultra obliviousness.  Ugh, nothing like living life on that slippery slope.  Meeting adjourned.

 

At work that topic of tasty fruits came up.  This evolved into a discussion regarding the tastiest of fruits.  Paired with the month of March, it became only a short leap to a Fruit March Madness bracket.

Armed with the idea and some Post-It notes, I headed home and enlisted the help of my kids.  Putting a significant amount of time into my silly little homework assignment, my 9-year-old son Sam asked me, “Did someone at work ask you to do this?” Well, no son, but sometimes you just find your calling in life and you have to answer.  Silly, fruity, whatever, just answer the call.  #Madness #SweetAndFruityMadness

 

Oh, he looks so peaceful.  Resting on a chair (Wait, a chair?  A chair designed and built for humans?  Oh, never mind.).  Dreaming dreams of chasing bunnies.

He could never do wrong.  No deceit in his furry little heart.  Wait a second, what is that on the dining room table?  A tuft of white rump fur overlooking the dining room window.  A tuft a white rump fur where it should not be.  A tuft of white rump fur that most likely belongs to a dog that is shedding with the change of seasons.

See how he hides his furry rump while sleeping?  A furry rump that happens to be covered with white tufts of shedding fur.  Oh, his deceitful furry little heart.

 

This week’s “Cookie of the Week” post has been delayed just a bit.  Why?  Well, because the world seems to be in danger of falling off its hinges.  Yep, when Green Pepper now pass as Red Peppers, something has gone horribly wrong.  Either that or I really need to be checked for color blindness or inability to properly identify vegetables or (gasp!) both.

You sit there.  Waiting.

So many have passed you.  No one seems to notice.

The guilt you exude grows by the day.  I feel the need to act.

I’d rather you vanished.  Sadly, you will never leave on your own.

Laundry basket full of clean, but unfolded clothes.  I shall answer your call.