S and I were sitting at our respective computers last Sunday morning, each of us surfing the interwebs. All was quiet under I heard S call out to me. “Baby, come here,” she said, indicating with her hand that there was something on her screen that I should see. S usually calls me over in this way to share a funny web site or YouTube clip. Something about the look in her eye that morning told me that wasn’t the case this particular instance. She had that wide-eyed, glazed over look she gets when she sees something she wants.

I got up from my chair and took the few steps to stand next to her. I leaned down as she pointed at an image on the screen and said, “I want that.”

I looked at where she was pointing but couldn’t tell what the image was. She was on Facebook and the item that had caught her attention was an ad in the side of the page. “What is that?” I asked. It looked like a brown box of some sort.

“It’s a brownie, with chocolate sauce over it,” she was using her most innocent voice.

“Uh huh,” I replied, unsure of where this was going.

“I want it,” she said, her voice a little sharper.

“What, like today?” I asked, sure she was kidding.

“Yep!” She wasn’t kidding.

“You want me to make that today?” I asked again hoping I was misinterpreting her.

“Yes!”

“Would a maple dip donut suffice instead?” I was grasping at straws by that point, and I knew it.

“No, I want that,” she said, pointing at her screen.

“Ok,” I replied as I walked back to my computer. “I guess I’ll find a brownie recipe.” S began to laugh as she could tell I was a bit confounded by what had just happened. Out of nowhere, she had decided she wanted a brownie with chocolate sauce and by George, she was going to have it. Even if it meant my finding some recipes and going out to get the ingredients I’d need.

Luckily, I already subscribe to some food/cooking/baking blogs so a quick search through the items in my RSS feed resulted in some delicious looking recipes. I then hit up Google to find a recipe for sauce and came across one for Hot Fudge instead of chocolate. I asked S if that was a suitable substitute. She let me know that it was so off I went to the grocery store, two lists in hand.

The brownie recipe I found was pretty straightforward, for the most part. Eggs? Check. Granulated sugar? Check? Flour? Check. Where I got stuck was the calling for bittersweet and semi-sweet chocolate to be used. The grocery store I went to was one of the large chain variety so I thought I’d find the chocolate I’d need. Oh, I can be so innocent sometimes.

I must have stood in front of the chocolate section for at least ten minutes, picking up one bar of chocolate and trying to determine if it was bittersweet or semi-sweet enough. Was dark chocolate bitter? Was white chocolate sweet? How the hell did all of this work? Who knew chocolate could be so complicated? There I stood in the confectionary section, pacing every so often with a bar or two of chocolate in my hands trying to think of how best to proceed. Do I buy random chocolate, make the brownies and hope for the best?

I thought about it and realized that S was really looking forward to these brownies, so I should play it safe. I put the chocolate back and fell back on plan B which I happened to formulate at that very moment. I have made a chocolate cake several times before and it’s always been a hit. Surely, I could just make that, use brownie pans and make the chocolate sauce and all would be well in the world? After all, as long as a brownie pan is used, brownies are made. Oh, I can be so innocent sometimes.

Upon returning home, I quickly set about mixing the ingredients for the cake mix. With that poured into the brownie pans and placed in the oven, I set about making the hot fudge sauce.

S was downstairs watching TV and as the brownies and fudge sauce neared readiness, I made my way down to let her know the progress. “So I improvised a bit” I began. “I couldn’t find the chocolate the recipe called for so I decided to use the cake recipe instead.”

“But that’s not brownies,” S said, defeat creeping into her voice.

“I used the brownie pans,” I replied innocently.

“Just because you use the pans, doesn’t make it brownies,” she continued.

“Oh,” I said.

“Brownies are dense and moist, cake is not,” she replied.

“Well then,” I said, getting up from my seat. “I’m going to go upstairs and enjoy whatever it was I made.” I couldn’t help but notice the smile fading on S’s face as I walked by. Had I fucked up? Was the cake recipe really all that different than a brownie recipe? And in what bizarro universe does cooking something in a brownie pan not make it a brownie? If you cook something in a frying pan, it’s fried, right?

All of my worries about screwing up the brownie craving dissipated when we tasted the hot fudge sauce over the cake. It was divine; so much so I felt like I needed a cigarette afterwards.

So there you have it; another zany day in our household as S was overcome by a random desire to have a random item she came across on a random advertisement.

And yes, I’m well aware that I am very whipped. I could have said no to S, but really, when have I ever said no to S? That’s just crazy talk.

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1. The Chocolate-Covered Kitchen
2. Me Has Cookies
3. “How serendipitous”
4. Birthday Cards, Bad Steaks and Boobs
5. Pot Shopper
6. Bones, Manners and a Lovely Lunch