Saturday, September 10, 2011

I do not ever, well most of the time, have sweet things to eat.  I have diabetes and manage it with diet and an oral medication.  Since my diagnosis more than four years ago I have learned to avoid hidden sugars and to read labels even more carefully than I have always done.  It has been two years since I baked anything sweet, and that was spaghetti and meatball cupcakes and babies under a blanket cupcakes for a niece's baby shower.  Much longer than that since making anything sweet for myself, well, I guess the bit over four years ago diabetes thing.

But, losing sweet tasting things is so sad.  Really.  No Halloween candy for me, no candy canes at xmas or Cadbury eggs at Eostre and only a token bit of a taste at the babies birthday parties, just for good fortune for the coming year.  No pastries when out with the Chickies.  No gummie critters, no gum drops, no gum.

If I still was able to go to see movies, there would not be any Twizzlers or popcorn (whilst not technically a sweet, still too carby).  I do drink artifically sweetened diet soft drinks, but I just figure that the preservative and chemicals in there might help preserve my cells whilst calcifying my brain.  Hey.  It could happen.

But, last week, well, it was in the middle of some biblically bad stuff here.  I am not saying that any seas parted, but there have been several occasions when I feared that the fabric of time and space had been violated.  But, that is another story.  I would share it, it might even make me feel better to unburden some of it, but then I would not be able to stop crying and, well, it is Saturday and I do have to be able to go to work next Wednesday.

Anyway, by Tuesday I could not stand it and by Friday I was frantic for something sweetly tasty and my usual apples or carrots were just not cutting the custard.

I thought about custard, but knew that a savory one would not do the trick, so when I went to the pharmacy to get my medication, I stopped at the market and bought chocolate chips and a bag of walnuts.  I am not judging myself, but I was aware of how epic a fail this would be.

Little did I know.

I came home, followed the directions for chocolate chip cookies, on the back of the bag and set to work.  I used whole wheat flour, Splenda (don't start...), a whole cup of butter, the walnuts, eggs and a dump of Ghirardelli's cocoa.  I spread it out in a sheet pan to make bars, easier.  When it came out of the oven I sprinkled another bag of chips over the top, waited a bit, spread out the melted chips and waited some more.

I let it cool completely and got out wrap so that I could immediately portion it out and put most of it safely away in the freezer.  Freezing sweets might not work for others, but it does for me.  Probably because I am needing more immediate gratification these days, but whatever works, yes?

I cut into the pan and the darn thing practically shattered into crumbles.  The whole pan was weak and crumbly, like, ummm, crumbles.  It tasted great, but was like some kind of crumbly topping that you would put on top of ice cream or something.  The only thing holding even the crumbs together was the melted coating of chocolate chips on the top.

I ate a small piece, thought about it, tried to eat another tiny bit and and eventually tossed the whole, expensive mess into a container which went out to feed the critters at the feeding stations.  They liked it and it was gone in a few days.  The whole, freaking pan.

I had no idea why it happened.  Then, yesterday...another Friday, coincidence?  I think not... I began to think that maybe I had never put the eggs into it.  I remember going to get the vanilla, finding none and deciding to substitute with a little blackstrap molasses dissolved in a little water.  But, I had no recollection of fetching, cracking or incorporating eggs.

So, when I took my friend shopping yesterday (another nine hour day, but that is still one more, other story), I bought more chips, one bag this time, more walnuts and a small bottle of vanilla.  Man, has that stuff gotten expensive.

Two hours ago, after I set the bread to rise, I decided that since I had bought the ingredients, that I would make another attempt to satisfy my sweet tooth, which, in addition to my bleeding and shattered heart, was begging for comfort.

So, I did.  I made sure that I fluffed the butter and sweetener parts.  Fluffy, very fluffy indeed.  Then, I carefully added both the vanilla and the damn eggs.  More fluffiness.  All the rest got tossed in, mixed and spread out in a pan.

Well, it really must have been the missing eggs, because this batch turned out great, wonderful, amazing.  It slightly overflowed the pan and the edges are crisp and light and, oh goodness, just right.  And, I put so much cocoa powder in them that they are, in effect, brownies.  Even better.  More chocolaty goodness without any additional shame.  I also used three eggs, just the right amount to make it cakier than a cookie and not too much like cake.  I rock.

It is now cut, wrapped and safely in the freezer, but I must admit that I did have more than one piece.  How many more, well, I am not confessing that part, but I think it best to go and take a rest whilst I recover from my chocolate and carb coma.  I did drink a nice, big mug of green tea whilst eating the lovely bars, so that has to count for something, yes?

So, if there is a lesson in here...and there is...it is that if you decide to indulge yourself, do not let your shame make you forget the eggs.

You may quote me.

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