I MUST BE MAD

I had been meaning to make David Lebovitz's brownies for a while. I had printed out the recipe and stuck it in the pile that lives wedged into one of the bookshelves meaning to make them one day, maybe when friends came over, maybe to take to work, maybe just because I needed brownies. I finally made them last night. I lined a tin with buttered foil, I melted butter and chocolate, stirred in sugar and vanilla, beat in a little flour. I baked them for 30 minutes and left them to cool. And then, instead of sitting down with a brownie and a glass of milk I sliced them up, packed them into two plastic tubs, wrapped them up and sent them to my brother for his birthday. All I tasted was a corner that wouldn't fit into a tub, it was amazing, and now all I can think is 'brownie, brownie, brownie'.

Andrew, I hope you enjoy them but, damn, I wish I had kept one for myself.