Candy Corn White Chocolate Blondies

The leaves began coming down in earnest this week. The peak passed over the weekend and by Monday the carpet of color was on the ground and the bare branches were beginning to appear through the remaining canopy. I raked Saturday morning for two hours — the front lawn and the strip by the road — and burned the pile in the corner by the woodlot where I have burned leaf piles for sixty years, the controlled burn watched closely with a hose at hand, the smoke rising in the still October air and carrying the particular smell that is the most reliable autumn smell in this part of the world.

Bill called from Connecticut Sunday with his fall report — he has been working on a new bean-and-sausage cassoulet variation that he wants to send me a quart of when it stabilizes, and he has been canning his own tomato sauce for the second year (he started last year on my recommendation and has now committed) and he has been thinking about getting backyard maple taps for next March. Bill at sixty-five is in the phase of his food life where he is taking on new techniques with the energy of a younger man, and his enthusiasm is one of the things I look forward to in the Sunday calls. He asked me about my own week. I told him about the leaves and the pork roast. He said: I miss your kind of fall. I told him Connecticut has its own kind of fall. He said: not the same. We did not argue the point.

Made an apple crisp Saturday with the windfalls from Ted's orchard that he had brought over Friday in a small basket — Ted being too proud to ask for help with the windfalls but happy to receive the offer to take them off his hands, an arrangement we have settled into over the past three years. The crisp was the simple kind — sliced apples, sugar and cinnamon and a squeeze of lemon, a topping of butter and oats and brown sugar and a little flour, into the oven at three-fifty for forty-five minutes. The crisp came out the way it always comes out — bubbling at the edges, golden on top, smelling of fall — and I ate two helpings Saturday night with vanilla ice cream and a third for breakfast Sunday.

Anna and her boyfriend came up Sunday afternoon. The boyfriend's name is Marcus and I had not met him before — they had been seeing each other for about four months, by Anna's account, and she had decided it was time for the introduction. Marcus is in his early thirties, works as an environmental engineer for a consulting firm in Brattleboro, has a quiet steady manner that I approved of within ten minutes. He had brought a bottle of cider from a small cidery he liked. We sat on the porch with the cider and the leftover apple crisp and talked for two hours about nothing in particular. Marcus knew not to overtalk, knew to ask Anna questions about the farmhouse and let her answer them, knew to compliment my cooking without overdoing it. By the time they left at six I had decided he was acceptable, which Anna would have been able to read in the small things — the offer of a second helping of crisp, the suggestion that they come back any time, the handshake at the door rather than the more formal nod I give to strangers I have not yet decided about. Anna kissed me on the cheek as they left and whispered: thanks. I knew what she was thanking me for. I did not need to acknowledge it. The transaction was complete in the way that good transactions in the Bergstrom kitchen are complete, which is to say silently.

The apple crisp was gone by Sunday evening — the last of it finished off on the porch with Anna and Marcus and the cider — and it occurred to me afterward that the season deserved one more sweet thing before the cold set in for good. These Candy Corn White Chocolate Blondies are what I turned to next: simple to put together, unapologetically autumnal, and the kind of bar you can leave on the counter for a few days and find improving. If you have children or grandchildren coming through, or a young man you’ve just decided is acceptable, a pan of these on the table does not hurt your case.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 40 minutes | Servings: 16 bars

Ingredients

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted and slightly cooled
1 cup packed light brown sugar
1 large egg
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup white chocolate chips
3/4 cup candy corn

Instructions

Preheat and prepare. Heat your oven to 350°F. Grease an 8x8-inch baking pan and line it with parchment paper, leaving an overhang on two sides for easy lifting.
Mix the wet ingredients. In a medium bowl, whisk the melted butter and brown sugar together until smooth and glossy, about one minute. Add the egg and vanilla extract and whisk until fully combined.
Add the dry ingredients. Add the flour, baking powder, and salt to the bowl. Stir with a wooden spoon or rubber spatula until just combined — do not overmix.
Fold in the mix-ins. Gently fold in the white chocolate chips and 1/2 cup of the candy corn, reserving the rest for the top.
Transfer and top. Spread the batter evenly into the prepared pan — it will be thick. Scatter the remaining 1/4 cup of candy corn over the surface, pressing the pieces in lightly.
Bake. Bake for 23—26 minutes, until the top is golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out with just a few moist crumbs. Do not overbake; the bars firm up as they cool.
Cool and cut. Allow the pan to cool completely on a wire rack before lifting out by the parchment and cutting into 16 bars. The candy corn on top will have softened and melted slightly at the edges, which is as it should be.

Nutrition (per serving)

Candy Corn White Chocolate Blondies — A Sweet Send-Off for the Season