My association with baked goods has mainly consisted of late night binges on cookie dough after bad break-ups. There is nothing so fortifying as mainlining a tube of cookie dough while watching crappy reality TV and crying over the one that got away. I highly recommend it.
My palm went directly to my forehead as I realized that I have yet to bake anything with my favorite girl in the world. Huge mothering oversight! Okay, so yeah, I whipped up some Rice Krispie Treats on Halloween, but Violet overdosed on marshmallows and ended up eliminating the contents of her wee stomach on our couch. Although eating treats until you puke is a success by anyone’s Halloween standards, it wasn’t exactly a top mothering moment of mine. And making Rice Krispie Treats isn’t exactly baking, either.
We hit the grocery store, my best gal and I, in search of exactly what we’d make. You wouldn’t believe the options! Cookies, cakes, pies, (they have ready-made pie dough) biscuits, croissants. The options were so overwhelming my eyes began to cross and Violet began to fidget and then I saw it!
They’re called Peanut Butter Fudgy Bars and I was sold from the words peanut butter. Fudgy? Why, that’s a stone cold bonus! I think we can all agree peanut butter and chocolate are like Abbott and Costello, Bert and Ernie, me and cookie dough. You get my point.
YOU CANNOT GO WRONG WITH PEANUT BUTTER AND CHOCOLATE. Remember that. It’s right up there with never go to bed angry and never eat yellow snow.
So I bought the following (I had an egg at home) and Violet and I got our bake on like you wouldn’t believe:
One box of yellow cake mix
One canister of chocolate fudge frosting
One small jar of crunchy peanut butter.
One small canister of peanuts. (You know the ones… With the peanut sporting a top hat, monocle and cane, as all good peanuts should.)
One bag of mini Reece’s Pieces or M&M’s
I plopped Violet in her high chair, assembled the ingredients and enlisted Serge to photograph whatever was about to take place. It was a family affair. I’ve got to say, it’s a shame I don’t do this kind of thing more often because these are the things that little kids remember. Stirring the cake mix, licking the bowl, frosting… Come on! That’s the stuff childhood is made of, right?
Anyway, enjoy our little family moment straight out of a sitcom from the fifties or sixties. Also, if you make it all the way to the end of the slideshow there’s a little surprise for you. Eat your heart out June Cleaver!