One year, I baked 250 brownies! You might ask me how long this fudge-mess of goo took to complete?
So here’s the answer: It took four glorious chocolate-coated hours!
I’d planned to bake enough for each lady. But wait, you are now asking who would receive them?
Well, on any given Sunday, you’ll find me volunteering at the Women’s Recovery Center to hold a church service for ladies who are going through rehab. I had permission to bring them some goodies one holiday, which meant I needed 100 (at least for each lady) because that’s how many residents stay at the facility during their stay.
I’d upped the count to give them at least two yummy treats, along with extra for the guards that Sunday.
At first, the baking process was organized with a plan to keep two pans baking at all times. I would spin around, pour, mix, and crack those eggs. I had become a one-woman assembly line.
However, about halfway through the four-hour sprint, the batter took on a life of its own by exploding into a chocolate volcano, creating a mess on the walls, counter, and the floor.
See, I accidentally knocked the oil over, dropped some eggs in the quest to catch the tipping bottle, and then bumped into the mixing—which poured to the floor at the end of the counter.
Stepping into the goo with my socked feet, I found myself deep in chocolate and yet, determined to finish my task. So brownie-patrol resumed, wiping ensued, and mixing continued until the brownies were cooling on the table and ready for my dear ladies in recovery. They were packed into baggies for each of my friends!
