I promised myself when I retired that I would learn how to like to cook. But it took two years into retirement and our second house (with a glorious kitchen) to get me there. Along with the help of my friend, Sharon, who has immense patience and a great sense of humor.
Actually, I learned how to like to bake. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth. That’s my husband’s job. I enjoy mixing the ingredients and seeing how things turn out.
This morning, it was too cold to walk to the gym. What a great time to warm up the kitchen and make some gluten-free brownies for a friend’s son who looks at wheat and lands in the emergency room.
Not too many ingredients, and the instructions looked pretty simple, so I figured I could pull this off, no problem.
Either I’m suffering from beginning-baker error or the instructions were written by people who like to eat a different kind of brownie. The glop that went into the pan was more like chocolate cement. Looks like it came out fine when I took it out of the oven. But if the bottom burned, who could tell?
After it cools, I’ll put it in the freezer for an hour. If I can’t cut it, the kid can always use it for a big hockey puck, right?