MISADVENTURES IN DOMESTICITY: Blondie Disaster Edition

In honor of last night’s season finale of Big Brother (photocap to come), I decided to bake some blondies — partially in support of Jordan, but mostly in support of my sweet tooth. Unfortunately, things didn’t turn out quite the way I was expecting them to, and sadly, the blame falls squarely on me. Photos of this tragic blondie disaster (or BLONDSASTER as Rachel Zoe might call it) are limited, but the full story is after the jump.

So here’s what happened. My friends jash and IndianJones were scheduled to come over to my place to watch TV, and since it was finale night of BB and since this was going to be one of the last times the Lametourage would be assembled for television (IndianJones is sadly moving up to the Bay Area next week), I thought it would be a perfect occasion for some blondies. I had all the ingredients, the recipe was easy — what could go wrong?
WELL. Things certainly started off smoothly. I mixed my dry ingredients together with the grace and aplomb of a seasoned baker. It was all the typical stuff — flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt. I then moved onto the wet ingredients (and I should mention that I was simultaneously finishing up a pasta dish for dinner; so my attention was divided — yes, I’m starting the excuses now). Well, as per the instructions, I melted the ten tablespoons of butter in a saucepan gently and then transferred it to a bowl where I whisked it together with two eggs and some vanilla extract. All was going well. Then I added t he dry ingredients, and the first of many follies transpired. Being the idiot that I am, I continued to mix with a whisk, which meant that as the ingredients thickened, a whole lacrosse-ball-sized chunk of blondie batter got stuck in the metal wires. Why I hadn’t been mixing with a wooden spoon — or even better, my electric hand mixer — is beyond me. I blame the last remnants of my pneumonia.
Anyway, I managed to mix all the ingredients AND somehow release the batter from its whisk cage. It seemed like I was back on track. I then buttered and floured a 13″ x 9″ pan, again as per the instructions, and attempted to spread the batter into it. One problem: there did not seem to be enough batter present. It could barely fill up the pan. I ultimately spread the stuff so thin, I was afraid I’d end up with a giant cookie — which wouldn’t have been the worst outcome in the world. I knew something was off, but what? Either way, I pressed on, pouring chocolate chips on top of the batter. And then, as I reached for the pecans pieces, it hit me. I knew what I had done wrong.
I HAD FORGOTTEN THE SUGAR.
HOW DOES ANYONE FORGET SUGAR IN A BLONDIE RECIPE?
Well, I did. It was entirely my fault; although, I’d like to mention that in the recipe, the sugar step is like one small sentence that says “Add sugar.” VERY easy to overlook. But of course, being the stellar baker that I am, I still should have thought to myself, “Hmmm… as this is something for my SWEET tooth, I probably should add SUGAR.”
This blondie recipe was going downhill. Fast.
I wasn’t ready to wave the white flag just yet though. I promptly returned the batter to the bowl, added the two cups of brown sugar that I had overlooked (it was supposed to be whisked into the melted butter. Oy), and then got to work mixing it into the batter. Of course, easier said than done. At this point, no wooden spoon would do. I pulled out the electric hand mixer, which finally got its moment in the sun, and mixed that brown sugar into the batter as best I could. It seemed to work more or less. The only problem was that when I was done, the batter no longer resembled batter but instead some strange granola mix. It was all little pieces and crumb-like. Still, I held out hope that once cooked, it would all melt back together and prove to be a success after all. I then poured the blondie crumb mix back into the pan, and this time, there was certainly enough batter to go around (it’s amazing what two cups of ingredients will do for batter volume). I did my best to press the crumbs together to form a coherent batter (and yes, I did add those pecans), but it was a bit too time intensive, and let’s face it, the damage was already done. I decided to just throw caution to the wind and stick the whole thing in the oven, again hoping it would all melt together and rise like a mighty blondie phoenix.
The recipe called for twenty-five minutes of cooking, but given the craziness that had already gone down, we decided as a group that I should check on the blondies sooner. I set the timer for fifteen minutes and then crossed my fingers.
Oh, if only that were the end of the saga.
Enter IndianJones, who randomly decided to cook some frozen dumplings on my stove. I don’t know what he was doing over there (at this point, I was firmly ensconced on the couch, watching Flipping Out with jash), but amidst his bumbling around, he managed to derail the blondies even further. I discovered this when I sauntered back into the kitchen to check on the blondies, and IndianJones smiled rather guiltily and said “I think I fucked up your timer.” I was confused. I looked up at the timer, and oddly enough, it seemed stuck at the 8:24 mark. Turns out it wasn’t stuck. Turns out IndianJones had turned OFF the timer for some strange reason, and 8:24 was merely the actual time of day (or night, as it were). IndianJones then chuckled and announced that he fiddled with the timer about EIGHT MINUTES AGO in an attempt to time his dumplings, and he hadn’t alerted me until just now. Awful.
As if these blondies didn’t already have enough going against them, now they were floating in a timeless cooking zone. We had absolutely NO idea how long they’d been in there, and how much longer they’d have left to bake. Thankfully, karma struck IndianJones when he accidentally spilled about a half a cup of soy sauce onto his dumplings. Either way, these blondies were in bad, bad shape. Even worse, when I checked on them, they looked like one giant granola bar. Not a whole lot of that batter coming together. Also, not a whole lot of rising going on either. BLONDSASTER!
After what had felt like about fifteen minutes, I then did a toothpick test, and sure enough, it came out clean. I promptly removed the blondies from the oven and let them cool off. Again, a wave of optimism took over me. Maybe they’d be okay after all. Sure, they look weird, and sure the texture might be a bit different, but hey, all the ingredients are there. It might work!
Well, after about ten or fifteen minutes of cooling, it was time to dig in. I cut the blondies into about twelve squares and then attempted to wrangle the first one free. As Ina Garten will happily tell you, the first brownie or blondie is always the most difficult to get out. Let me tell you something — difficult is an understatement. These bad boys were delicate like nothing else. One wrong move, and the whole thing would crumble apart (on account of the batter being less batter and more CRUMBLE). Eventually, we decided that solid, handheld blondies were simply not in the cards for that evening. We’d just have to scoop the blondie-esque stuff onto a plate or bowl and eat it with a fork (or spoon). It was then that we decided to call this dish Blondie Crumble. And it wasn’t half bad. Of course, you’d have to make sure each spoonful was as large as possible, otherwise you might not get all the blondie flavors in one mouthful, but hey, considering all the things that went wrong, at least we got an edible dessert out of it. We also concluded that the Blondie Crumble would go perfectly over ice cream, but sadly, I had none. So basically, we were eating ice cream topping with no ice cream. It’s like digging into a bowl of sprinkles. Tasty – but kind of odd.
Of course now I’m determined to remake these blondies and make them properly, ie. NOT forgetting the sugar. Then again, worst comes to worst — I’ll just have more Blondie Crumble on my hands. What better excuse to get a pint of ice cream?

Behold the glory of Blondie Crumble