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This is one of those ‘I-need-a-cookie-right-now-or-I-die’ recipes that can be prepared in almost no time. We all know that kind of situation, don’t we? I definitely do, I confess.
“What if I was a dog?!?!” I have this thought at least one time a day. At least once. It’s usually prompted by eyeing lazy dogs sitting outside of coffee shops, as I pass them with a long to-do list and the general stresses of adulthood.
Now I don't want to over sell this, so I'm going to be conservative and simply say, that these are... The Best Brownies In The WORLD. I know, big statement. They're called Slutty Brownies because they're oh so easy, and more than a little bit filthy. They're best served warm from the oven, with good quality vanilla ice cream (devastatingly I didn't have any in the freezer this time, so I guess I'll just have to make them again). They take about 45mins to make, including baking time.
We’ve all been there: hunger striking before the dinnertime clock, a sudden craving for something sweet, the need for a quick energy boost before working out. The solution? A small and satisfying snack that won't tip that calorie count over the edge.
A sweet and tangy watermelon lime sorbet is a great way to cool off in the summer. As a bonus, this recipe is frozen back in the watermelon rind and cut off into slices. It’s hot. The type of heat where when you step outside the door and your skin is wet before the door swings shut behind you. It’s a hot that hangs in the air, letting you breathe it in, that is cured only by two things: being completely immersed in water or hiding indoors, the air conditioning cranked as far as it will go.
Cheesecake Stuffed Strawberries Can I just say that I have died and gone to heaven. Cheesecake stuffed strawberries….how have I not made these before?! I’m serious. They are amazing!
Yeehaaa… yum yum… it’s Cowboy Cookies. Or, in this case, Cowgirl Cookies. A friend introduced these to me and I love them. Especially the name. Cowboy Cookies. Cowboy Cookies.
Every Saturday afternoon our stepmother drove the four of us to the ice arena in Somersville. If you got in trouble that week, you'd still get to come, but you weren't allowed to skate. Take Gemma, who'd stolen a ten dollar bill out of dad's wallet: she'd been properly scolded, had to pay him twenty dollars back, and at the arena she was forced to watch us from the benches shielded by sheets of plexiglass.