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Brownie Pudding — The Comfort of Something Warm and Waiting

January 2024. Twenty-eight weeks. Seven months pregnant with a daughter named Hana who has very strong opinions about when I should eat (constantly), when I should sleep (never), and when I should pee (always). I am enormous. I am beautiful. I am exhausted. I am all three of these things simultaneously and I have stopped trying to reconcile them because reconciliation implies they are in conflict and they are not. They are just different facts about the same body, the way being Korean and American are different facts about the same person.

Amazon this week: I told Derek I am taking maternity leave starting March 1. Hana is due March 12 but Dr. Hernandez recommended starting leave two weeks early, especially since my job is sedentary and stress-inducing and not the kind of environment where you want to go into labor during a sprint review. Derek said, "We'll miss you. Come back when you're ready." I said, "Sixteen weeks." He said, "We'll keep the seat warm." I thanked him. I did not tell him that I am increasingly unsure whether I want the seat back.

Banchan Labs: January box shipped. Theme is "New Beginnings" — a fresh start collection with basic recipes for new subscribers. We hit 2,700 subscribers. James is pleased. I am pleased and also terrified because the business is growing and I am about to not be there for three months and what if it falls apart without me? James said, "It will not fall apart. I am here. Grace is here. Mina is here. Tess is here. You are not the only person who keeps this company alive." He is right. The company is not me. The company is us. I am learning to let go of things. Pregnancy is teaching me this: your body is not yours. Your time is not yours. Your company is not yours. Everything is shared. Everything is held together by other people. You are not alone. You have never been alone.

Karen had her monthly check-in with Dr. Bhandari. The Parkinson's is progressing — slowly, always slowly, which is the word we cling to — but progressing. The tremor is more persistent now. The balance is less reliable. Karen uses the walker most of the time. She does not use the cane anymore because the cane requires one hand and she wants both hands free to hold things: books, coffee cups, Hana, when Hana arrives. She is saving her hands for Hana. She told me this on Tuesday. She said, "I am going to hold that baby with both hands. Both hands, Stephanie. The shaking will not stop me." I said, "I know, Mom. Nothing stops you."

The recipe this week is a simple juk — Korean rice porridge — that I have been eating every morning because it is gentle and nourishing and the baby seems to approve of it (fewer kicks during juk than during any other food, which I am choosing to interpret as contentment rather than indifference). Rice, rinsed, soaked for thirty minutes. Cooked with chicken stock at a 1:7 ratio, stirred slowly, until it breaks down into a thick, silky porridge. Season with salt, sesame oil, soy sauce. Top with sliced scallions, a soft-boiled egg, a sprinkle of sesame seeds. The porridge is the most peaceful food I know. It asks nothing of you. It requires no skill, no precision, no cultural knowledge. It is just rice and water and time. It is the food of beginnings. It is the food of January. It is the food of waiting.

Not every week ends with juk. Some weeks — the ones where you tell your boss you might not come back, where your mother saves her hands for a baby not yet born, where you practice letting go of everything you thought was yours — end with chocolate. This Brownie Pudding is the dessert version of that same grace: soft in the middle, unhurried, asking nothing of you but time and a warm oven. I made it on a Sunday night when Derek’s words were still sitting with me and Karen’s were too, and it felt exactly right — something sweet and yielding to close out a week that asked me to be the same.

Brownie Pudding

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 30 minutes | Total Time: 40 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter
  • 1 cup granulated sugar
  • 2 large eggs
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 1/2 cup all-purpose flour
  • 1/3 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • 1/2 cup hot water or hot coffee
  • 1/4 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips (optional, for topping)

Instructions

  1. Preheat. Heat your oven to 325°F (165°C). Lightly butter a 1.5-quart baking dish or an 8x8-inch square pan.
  2. Melt the butter. In a medium saucepan over low heat, melt the butter completely. Remove from heat and let cool slightly, about 2 minutes.
  3. Mix the batter. Whisk the sugar into the melted butter until combined. Add the eggs one at a time, whisking after each addition. Stir in the vanilla extract.
  4. Add dry ingredients. Sift in the flour, cocoa powder, and salt. Stir until just combined — do not overmix. The batter will be thick.
  5. Spread and add liquid. Pour and spread the batter evenly into the prepared baking dish. Slowly pour the hot water (or coffee) over the top of the batter. Do not stir — this creates the self-saucing pudding layer beneath the brownie top.
  6. Add chocolate chips. If using, scatter the chocolate chips over the surface.
  7. Bake. Bake for 28–32 minutes, until the top is set and looks matte but the center still jiggles slightly when you gently shake the pan. A fudgy, saucy layer will have formed underneath.
  8. Rest and serve. Let sit for 5 minutes before scooping. Serve warm directly from the dish, spooning up both the brownie top and the chocolate pudding beneath. Pairs well with vanilla ice cream or a dollop of whipped cream.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 320 | Protein: 4g | Fat: 16g | Carbs: 44g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 115mg

Stephanie Park
About the cook who shared this
Stephanie Park
Week 406 of Stephanie’s 30-year story · Seattle, Washington
Stephanie is a software engineer in Seattle, a new mom, and a Korean-American adoptee who spent twenty-five years not knowing where she came from. She was adopted as an infant by a white family in Bellevue who loved her completely and never cooked Korean food. At twenty-eight, she found her birth mother in Busan — and then she found herself in a kitchen, crying over her first homemade kimchi jjigae, because some things your body remembers even when your mind doesn't.

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