It’s Good Stuff! or Chocolate Covers a Multitude of Sins

I woke up at 3:45 yesterday morning, which is really fine because I went to bed at 8:30, as I had the prior night. So I went trundling downstairs and decided I should bake the last of the yeast bread dough that I had in the fridge. I thought my kids would like some sweet rolls, so I looked in the cupboard and found an ancient jar of almond butter from Costco. How do I know it’s ancient? Well, first, because I know it’s been in there forever, and second because we went for about a year without going to Costco, and the last time we were there, Maranatha Almond Butter was sold in plastic jars and this was a glass jar.


So I decided to do something I’ve done before (with the last mummified Maranatha almond butter). I microwaved it with butter and cocoa powder. It makes a very serviceable nutella-like substance that I used to make sweet rolls. My family ate them.


The day before that, I made magic cookie bars out of oatmeal that my husband left sitting on the stove top, and some leftover beets. I swear the beets were legit. In Cleveland I used to go to a restaurant that served a chocolate beet cake with real whipped cream that was awesome. Now admittedly, they probably pureed the beets pretty finely, whereas I just diced them into the smallest chunks I could manage.

My sister would probably be outraged, because she sees this behavior as an unhealthy manifestation of our late father. He was a hoarder and life long trash picker who was always coming home with crazy curb-finds and saying “It’s Good Stuff!” There are factors in his background that made this understandable, but it was creepy and only marginally successful when he did it with food. Which he did.  See my sister’s tangential description here

My kids were very excited when they saw something chocolate-y with coconut flake, chocolate chips etc. but after a few bites the seven year old said suspiciously “are there beets in this?” and carefully consumed only the topping. the two younger kids ate theirs without complaint. My old man said, “there’s a texture violation here, but it’s not bad.” I think he’s right about the texture. Too cakey, not fudgy enough.

beet magic

This entry was posted in children, cooking, creativity, Dad, food, hoarding and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

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