These brownies look delicious, but they got me into all sorts of scrapes. No good brownie goes unpunished!
Two Mondays ago, you may recall that Whitney, Bea and I went to 8oz Burger Bar. Bea told me that she made me brownies, and that they were stowed away in her car. So when dessert came around, we told the waiter that we were all good. Brownies in the car!
The waiter said, “Oh wow, yum. You could tip me in brownies.” Something like that. Total throwaway line. We did not take him seriously. Because of our Living Social coupon, the bill was about $18 (he didn’t recalculate it to reflect the coupon, so… thanks for that, guy). We gave him a $20 bill, planning to combine the change with even more ones. You know, his tip.
But the waiter assumed that we were giving him a $2 tip, and got REALLY snippy. He actually came over and said, “I wasn’t SERIOUS about getting a brownie for a TIP.”
Wait, what? Food servers don’t want to get tipped in FOOD? Really?
We were actually planning on sitting around and talking and maybe even bringing in the brownies, but in light of newfound lightning bolts of HATRED being hurled at us, we threw down the tip and scooted out of there. Never assume, fucker. (Once he saw us put out the tip he gave us our receipt, but he never brought us change for that $20 bill.)
According to Crystal, all the waiters at 8oz are like that. Sad. Actually, bad. Bad for business.
So we needed a brownie-friendly 2nd location, which could ideally provide us with milk or ice cream. We picked a no-brainer: Milk.
But they actually sell baked goods of their own at Milk, so we sorta snuck our brownies in and hid at a back table.
I took this picture of our brownies, with Milk’s baked goods counter in the background. Haha! What a caper!
Bea made two plates. That one is dark chocolate with a hint of cinnamon. The plate pictured at the top is milk chocolate with Symphony bars. (I think the dark chocolate had Symphony bars in them, too? Maybe dark chocolate ones?)
We got ice cream in the form of a mint chocolate chip ice cream sandwich. Might have been called a grasshopper? I love that the ice cream is sandwiched in MACARONS!
Great caption, right?
We were already super full from burgers etc, so we were struggling to eat dessert. But we agreed that Bea’s brownies were probably more delicious than anything we could have purchased.
The next morning I still had two plates of brownies, more or less. I kept all the brownie’s we’d nibbled into, and took about 4 unscathed brownies to work. I cut them into smaller pieces and set them out in the kitchen.
You know, to be nice.
I thought people saw me do that. And I thought people knew my handwriting. But a short while later, I heard a ruckus in the kitchen. (My cube is about 10 feet from that plate.)
Actual quote: “Oh God, this is the worst thing ever!”
People were legit upset that someone would bring a high-calorie baked good into the office.
People kept saying, “Who made these?” Since I didn’t make them, I figured I was in some sort of loophole situation. And it reached a point where it would have been weird to ‘fess up. So… I didn’t. Until now.
I hid in my cubicle and listened as people tried to figure out WHAT was in the brownies. Fudge? Peanut butter? (I really would have given myself away if I had said, “Looks like Symphony bars.”)
That’s why I waited two weeks to blog the brownies/Milk.
Actually– after all that fuss, most of the brownies WERE consumed. People just need to express their disdain for dessert before eating it, so they don’t seem like… they’re enjoying dessert TOO much?
It’s catharsis. Or something like that.
I’m not MAD, because the whole reason I brought them in was that I didn’t want too many brownies in MY kitchen. That’s a dangerous game.
Really, I was scared. (And tickled, because it felt like a scene from a sitcom/improv class. Unexpected response!)
I didn’t want everybody to hate me for bringing the brownies. I was just trying to be nice!
But although the brownies created two awkward situations, they were also the gift that kept on giving, because I ended up having TWO brownie sundae/TV nights that week, each time with a different friend. And neither of those people resented me for thrusting brownies upon them!
Proud-of-myself moment: I bought that ice cream TWO Tuesdays ago, and TWO people other than me ate some of it, and I’m STILL not done with it. Generally a bigger container than that would last JUST me… less than a week.
Funny coda to the story: One of our writers brought in a container of store-bought brownie bites the next Monday, and was similarly tarred and feathered. (For some reason I keep describing this very not-a-big-deal situation with all sorts of old-school inquisition/torture metaphors.) (It was a witch hunt! They put heavy rocks on our chests!)
And then everybody ate the brownies.
(And thanks again for the brownies, Bea!) (Hours of amusement!)