Entry 1: Hi, my name is Paula Rawlings, and it’s been 4 days, as of writing this, since my last brownie. I actually ate half a batch—only the edge pieces though. I saw those perfectly cut squares stacked and separated by parchment paper, and I didn’t even try to resist. I even rearranged the brownies to locate the hidden edge pieces supporting the various levels of the brownie pyramid. Whoever brought them to potluck, bless their heart. I hope their heart was blessed right back because I made sure they didn’t have many brownies to consume all alone at home. May that heart beat for many more years and be so moved as to bring more for potluck next time.
Entry 2: My brownie urges are strong. I can’t get them out of my head. There’s a plethora of brownie variants I need to try. I hear the word brownie in my dreams. The fantom smell of brownies ready to exit the oven wakes me in the morning. My brown upright piano stands against the wall like a brownie on a napkin of white. Help me, Lord! Where’s the milk?
Entry 3: I’m better now, but when I hear the word brownie or see a pan of them, the anticipation of al dente edges is fixed in my mind, especially the corner pieces, because two crusts are always better than one. Additionally, I’ve noticed that in my own cooking, the only way I am enticed to eat the middle pieces is if the recipe is from a box. Now, some may laugh at box recipes being in any way better than homemade, but food scientists, with their fancy scientist degrees, have made it easy for people like me to achieve the perfect texture for the middle pieces, making the middle pieces worthy enough to put in my face. Homemade recipes always turn out too fluffy, like cake, but since I was 16, I have not given up the search for the perfect box-like homemade brownie recipe. I know! But surely the first documented, original matriarch, grandmother, aunt, sister, and distant cousin of all brownies concocted by the Palmer Hotel cook, whose name is suspiciously withheld, giving all credit to Bertha Palmer, wife of Potter Palmer, the owner of the Palmer Hotel, will be as satisfying as a box recipe. OK. That’s it. I must taste and see if this brownie of all brownies is worth eating more than once.
Entry 4: Nope, they’re kind of nasty. I wasted my time. Psyche! I have to buy the ingredients.
Entry 5: Well, I did it. I cooked them. I served them. I don’t care for them. And, of course, there are mixed reviews from others, but for me. However, I may flirt with other brownies, and I may enjoy my time with them momentarily; no brownie recipe will ever hold my undying loyalty other than Ghirardelli’s Caramel Walnut Truffle boxed brownies.
Therapist Notes:-Client has developed a strong attachment to brownies.-Ghirardelli’s Caramel Walnut Truffle boxed brownies hold a unique, almost irreplaceable value to her-Further discussion on this in next week’s session. ~Must try
Check out the Palmer House Brownie recipe online. Smart Cookie posted it on Allrecipes.com, and the measurements are for feeding a crowd, so seven-eighths it, half it, third it, quarter it, one-thirteenths it, whatever, and enjoy, or simply by a box mix. Come on. And, yay! for food scientists.
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