No one’s perfect. Everyone fails at some point in their life. However, as the great philosopher Carrie Bradshaw once said, “When real people fall down in life, they get right back up and keep walking.”
In preparation for tomorrow’s viewing of the film Eat, Pray, Love I decided to make a batch of brownies to sneak into the movie theatre. Yes, I do occasionally bring my own snacks to the movies because as you all know there’s a recession and the theatre I go to does not have the sweets I like. No big deal. Besides, what’s a better companion to Eat, Pray, Love other than chocolate?
I am told by many that my brownies are really good. (I used to make them for my co-workers as a birthday gift and people would sneak into their offices to steal the brownies. So, I guess they are breach-of-privacy-and-theft-worthy good.) The secret: a “specific brand” of brownie mix and a couple of well… secret ingredients to jazz it up.
It turns out that I happened to have a semisweet chocolate bar from the same “specific brand” I love for my brownies in my pantry and on its label was a recipe for brownies from scratch. Of course, I thought this recipe was going to turn out even more amazing than the fool-proof mix.
I was wrong. Very wrong. I followed the instructions and measurements to the T. (Ok, I did add my special ingredients but they are not to blame for the disaster as they are only enhancers.)
I ended up with a batch of pale, grainy and sugary yet salty cakes that tasted nothing like chocolate and therefore, nothing like my brownies. When I tried them, it was like putting a spoonful of sugar in my mouth with a hint of sea salt.
To give you an idea of how off their color was, let me share with you my brother’s reaction. I was at pilates, working my butt off literally, and I get a text message from my brother asking: “Are these pot brownies?” Let me just say that he asked this, not because I bake pot brownies that look just like these, but because they looked liked nothing I’ve ever baked. He was puzzled.
I tasted the brownies multiple times, hoping that “at some bite” they’d get better. “Maybe something’s wrong with my taste buds today”, I thought. So, I asked my brother to asses them too and his verdict wasn’t that promising either.
I was heartbroken because I wouldn’t have brownies for my girlfriends tomorrow after I’d promised them (and because I had eaten at least four bites of non-pleasurable calories after my very painful, nausea-inducing workout). My brother, being the psychologist in training that he is, appropriately advised me to dump the brownies before I ended up eating the whole batch only to discover what I knew all along– it was a batch of brownies that didn’t work out.
“Sometimes, you just fail,” my brother said as he threw the brownies into the garbage disposal.
I have shared my baking failure publicly. I guess I now have to get right back up and keep on baking.