Brownies with cocoa *and* chocolate

These chocolate brownies could save relationships. Admittedly, this could happen two ways, only one of which involves your man seeing you in a new and worshipful light due to your hitherto underexplored baking talents. The other is, simply, he is now too fat to find anyone new, because he’s stuck to the only chair that can take his burgeoning bulk. I can testify by personal experience part A can start to very closely resemble part B.

These chocolaty little heartstoppers (more on that later) owe their very being to the discovery of two Green and Black’s 100g bars hidden away for a rainy day in my desk drawer. Hidden too well, as it turns out, they were both nearly two years out of date. It seems I’m not nearly so good at treating myself as I thought. I tried pretty valiantly to nosh them down nevertheless, but it was much harder going than any good chocolate should be. The only way these dry and gritty little mouthfuls were going to be salvageable was by bakery. My mind skipped over chocolate cake, mousse or cookie as all too likely to pick up the staleness, and then it hit me- brownie. Surely a dessert with one whole block of butter could never actually be dry. Terrifying, yes, banned from cardiac wards in all known nations, yes, but never dry.

Having said that, I’ve been disappointed in the past by spongy brownies. I find the best way to get around the sheer stodge cakeyness of the whole endeavour, should it even (touch wood!) happen to you, is to microwave them to a slightly collapsing, yielding hot- you’ll know when you open the door, the cake sizzles slightly, so you can hear a quiet fizzing noise, and if you poke it, it falls all over the plate in a mess. A spoon is definitely called for here, and plenty of ice cream. If all else fails, just call it a tray bake and pretend it’s meant to be like that. Maybe consider calling some strapping lads round to polish off the evidence sharpish. 

But I needn’t have worried for a moment, these were so freaking good. There was a dodgy moment when they were cooling and I became so convinced I was going to poison everyone with underdone brownies I had to eat just the tiniest bit. And then another bit, and then a really big bit that I swear fell off when I was transferring to a plate. Then some more that didn’t, but we’ll say it did.  Suffice to say, about a third got eaten while I decided where on the ever wavering line between gooey and undercooked I lay. Luckily Tom came over to end the madness and the brownie was saved. 

Gorgeously Gooey Brownie

I used 100g green and blacks 70% dark and 100g green and blacks cherry, because it’s what I had. But, to be honest, I don’t think I’d refuse these even if they were made with leftover Easter Egg, and I’m a chocolate snob when it comes to baking.

Gooey Brownies

(adapted from Jamie Oliver's "bloomin brilliant brownies)

    1. Melt your 200g chocolate over a simmering bowl of water with one whole block (250g!) of butter
    2. Leave it to cool a bit so your eggs don’t scramble
    3. Add flour (65g), cocoa (80g) and caster sugar (250g). Or do what I did, which is add 100g drinking chocolate and 150g sugar, because I forgot to go shopping. Sprinkle a teaspoon of baking powder. Mix. It’ll take a bit of welly- it’s a thick mix, but this way you’ll feel like you deserve the amazing smell about to waft out of your oven. 
    4. Add 3 eggs, one at a time and mix like a banshee in between. Now you deserve two nice big squares! 

Something funny happens to the mix when you do this, it sort of clumps together in a glossy lump. Its sticky, but it only sticks to itself. My bowl pretty much ended up clean after I tipped it out. Weird, I know, who’d have expected baking to be low on clean up time? But its happened each and every time I’ve made these, so I’m just going to go with it.

          5. Pop in a 180 oven for about 30 mins. Oven times are so peculiar, aren’t they? One man’s overdone is another’s barely hot. So when you can smell the chocolate permeate your very self, stick a skewer or strand of spaghetti in. If it coats it like custard, its raw, if it sticks in patches, take it out.

           6. Try and wait long enough so it won’t burn your mouth, then tuck it. Amazing hot, lovely cold.