Martha, Martha, Martha

DucCat had been craving ooey-gooey-turtle brownies for weeks. After seeing so many good reports from other bloggers, I caved, and brought home Martha Stewart's Holiday Cookies Magazine. A magazine which housed a Promised Land of cookie recipes- the all-mighty turtles included.

In front of the fire one evening, I finally came across that holy grail of pages: the succulent, deep caramel-chocolate beauty of the Turtle Brownie.

Oof. I immediately thrust open my pantry, and began some serious bar cookie-making.









Whole pecans were cracked, and rendered into comfortable pieces. Other than that, it was an easy mix of ingredients to come together, and in no time, placed in the pan, and popped into the oven. Just lovely.


As the brownie base cooked, I toasted the chopped pecans, then placed them into a stove-top caramel. Candy-making, at any level, has always been terrifying for me; this seemed to come together perfectly.

Finally, the brownies came out and cooled, just in time for the topping to be poured smoothly on top. I popped them into the fridge, and forgot about it until the evening.


And there she was, candy-coated, and ready to go. DucCat took a bite, then looked at me curiously.

I bit down into my own brownie, then replicated the look back into his eyes. This was no classic turtle brownie, full of ooey, gooey chocolate-caramel Utopia. The base was more cakey and light, while the topping had solidified to an uncomfortable crunch. Even after letting this set out for an hour, the topping never relaxed into itself.

Highly un-desirable. Not at all what one would want to taste when confronted with 'Turtle Brownie' dreams. This was turtle brownie for chumps.

Oh, Martha. I believed in you, and I know many recipes out of this mag have worked.

But this, my shining-light-of-baking, has been a sore reminder of your humble humanity.

I know we can get past this one sad,sorry little thing. I'm willing to move on, if you are.

Bitch.

You can call me in the morning. Maybe. *sniff*