Day 319: Brownies

Since the day my blog rolled past "Day 300," every time I begin a new post and type "Day 3--," it feels like I am typing the time of day instead of the number of day it is. It is as if the hours and minutes are ticking by loudly now and time has sped up. The days are rushing by faster than I can keep up with them. Like the cold air rushing against my face as I fly down the road on my bike, impossible to catch or even hang on to for a second, just slipping through my fingers. Funny how our impression of the passage of time can change so dramatically. When plan a trip I usually begin about three months out. The trip at that time seems far away, like a mountain far off in the distance on the long stretch of highway. It seems like you will never get there and then suddenly the mountain is looming upon you. I guess what I am saying is that the end to my one year project seems to be fast approaching and I find that I am feeling both excited and nervous. But more on that later.

What I wanted to talk about today is not the passage of time but rather Brownies. That's right, Brownies with a capital B. I love brownies (with a passion). I always have. I can remember when I was a kid, the warm chocolaty smell that would permeate the house when my mom was baking them. There really is nothing that can take their place. When I was old enough to have friends over to spend the night my mom would let us make Chef Boyardee cheese pizzas and then brownies for dessert. Do you remember those boxed mixes that contained ingredients for two cheese pizzas and you made the crust yourself? I thought it was the absolute best. And what a cool mom, right? Later as a young adult living on my own, baking brownies quickly became a monthly occurance. And funny enough, homemade pizza night always seemed to correspond. Funny how habits form early and stick with you.

Since my move to Sweden however I've sort of fallen off the brownie boat. Unfortunately there really is not a brownie culture in Sweden. I mean, you can find brownies here and there and I have even eaten very tasty ones at Cajsa Warg, which is an awesome food market and the closest thing to a whole foods grocery market I have found here. But it is not like in the US where you can find brownies at nearly any potluck social function. I probably could just try making my own from scratch, and the fact that I veer toward a boxed mix is somewhat contradictory to my well-known food snobbery but there are some things that just cannot be changed.

Over this past weekend I bought a Duncan Hines brownie mix at ICA Maxi and last night I baked them to take to my book club meeting. At first no one touched the brownies. But then as time passed someone would take one here and there. When it came time to leave there were five left. I greedily did not even ask if anyone wanted them. I quietly and casually put the lid on and slipped them in my bag to take home. Hey, it was brownies, I can't be held accountable. I will say however that karma came back to greet me at midnight last night when I couldn't sleep because of the (four) brownies I ate. It was worth it however and now I have two of the five here with me at work to eat later when my bewitching hour approaches.

Dear brownies, 

I love you.

Love, Grace Ann