For full disclosure...
Melted butter and chocolate chips erupted in my kitchen mid-afternoon one Sunday.
They were supposed to combine with peanut butter cup splendor and make it to Best Wurst Fest (think urban hipster church backyard version of a church supper with much sausage grilling).
This sequence of events did in fact happen. Like much of life, it did not happen as planned.

Melted butter and chocolate chips erupted in my kitchen mid-afternoon one Sunday.
They were supposed to combine with peanut butter cup splendor and make it to Best Wurst Fest (think urban hipster church backyard version of a church supper with much sausage grilling).
This sequence of events did in fact happen. Like much of life, it did not happen as planned.

My Reese's babes did not want to come out of their little muffin tins until they were fully cooled.
Cooling was taking about 10 years per brownie.
Three batches remained to be cooked.
Three batches remained to be cooked.
I called in the assistance of a less cooperative nonstick tin.
I was scooping batter.
I was unwrapping gold foil.
I was delicately hacking at the edges of cooked brownies only for them to melt into an ugly blob.
I needed to shower before re-entering public.
It was time to go.
In the end, I was clean and had half of my baked goodies to take and share.
The kitchen was not clean. The other half of the brownies were in multiple tins, on a rack, in a container, smeared on the counter.
But my house had peanut butter chocolate decadence to keep us sane for the next few days, says the sweet-obsessed optimist in me.
This post is brought to you by Madoline's efforts to slash the idea that all things online are perfect and pretty. She knows baked goods make messes and result in imperfection. And she reminds herself that in real life marriages, children, vacations and all instagrammed and facebooked and blog prettiness are, in fact, messy, too. Oh, the lies to the contrary she subconsciously believes!









