Fudgy Peanut Butter Cup Brownies

Brianna's week. The grass came back in the yard. Time to fix the BBQ pad. Tuesday was a long shift — second-shift overlap on a build target. Cleared it.

Pop's in the recliner. Tigers on. Sugar in range this week. Sunday at Mama's. She made greens with hambone the way she has since 1985.

Fried chicken Saturday. Buttermilk overnight. Seasoned flour. Cast iron at three-fifty. Drained on a rack. Aiden and CeCe split the wings.

Aiden's 11. The youth basketball league. I'm coaching. He's the best player on the team and he knows it. Zaria's 8. Helps me cook on a step stool. Has opinions about the seasoning.

I drove home Sunday past the plant. The plant lights were on. The line was running. The line is always running.

The kids next door knocked over my trash cans Tuesday night. Their dad made them help me clean up Wednesday morning. Good man. The kids apologized. I gave them each a Capri Sun. Cycle complete.

The basketball court at the rec center got refurbished. New floor. Plays different. Bouncy. I shot a few from the elbow before practice Wednesday. The knee held. The shot fell short.

Filled the propane tank Wednesday. The smoker is the only appliance I baby. Wiped it down. Checked the gaskets. Checked the temperature gauge. The smoker is mine the way Pop's torque wrench was his.

Pop sat in the recliner Sunday. He fell asleep before the third quarter. We covered him with a blanket.

Stopped at Eastern Market Saturday. Got chicken thighs, bacon, a watermelon, and a pound of greens that I did not need but bought anyway. The vendors know me by name now. Three of them asked about the family.

The grass came in fast this week. Cut it Saturday morning before the heat. The mower had been sitting all winter. Took three pulls to start. Once it ran, it ran. Some things just need patience.

The drive home Friday was the long way around. I took Outer Drive past the lake. The water was still. I do not always notice the water. I noticed Friday.

I cleaned the smoker Sunday morning. Brushed the grates. Emptied the ash. Wiped down the body. The smoker repays attention. So does most everything that matters.

A reader wrote in about the smothered pork chops. Said her late husband loved them. I wrote back. I told her about Pop. We exchanged three emails. She's in Saginaw. She's coming to the city in the spring.

I took a walk around the block Sunday morning. The neighborhood was quiet. The trees were the trees. The light was good. I waved at three porches. The porches waved back. Brookline holds.

Plant ran clean this week. The line ran. The body held. The paycheck is the paycheck.

A catering inquiry came in this week — fifty-person family reunion. Booked. Saturday after next.

Aiden had practice Tuesday and Thursday. I drove. He shot threes for an hour after.

Mama left me a voicemail Wednesday. She said, "DeShawn. Don't forget Sunday." I had not forgotten Sunday. I have not forgotten Sunday in twenty years. The reminder is the love. I called her back.

The block had a small drama Tuesday. Somebody parked in front of Ms. Diane's driveway. Ms. Diane addressed it directly. The car moved within the hour. The neighborhood polices itself on small things.

Truck needed an oil change Saturday. Did it myself in the driveway. Took an hour. The neighbor across the street gave me a thumbs-up from his porch. I gave him one back. Detroit men do not waste words on car maintenance.

Saturday already had the cast iron going and the kitchen smelling like something worth staying home for — but Aiden and Zaria are eight and eleven, and fried chicken is never quite enough to end the night on. Zaria climbs up on her step stool and has opinions about seasoning, so I let her have a say here too. Peanut butter cups are non-negotiable in this house, and folding them into a pan of fudgy brownies is the kind of move that costs maybe twenty minutes and buys you the whole evening. Some weeks you earn a little sweetness. This was one of those weeks.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 28 min | Total Time: 43 min | Servings: 16

Ingredients

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, cut into pieces
1 cup granulated sugar
2 large eggs, room temperature
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/3 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp baking powder
16 miniature peanut butter cups, unwrapped and halved
1/3 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Heat oven to 350°F. Grease an 8x8-inch baking pan and line with parchment, leaving an overhang on two sides for easy lifting.
Melt the butter. In a medium saucepan over low heat, melt the butter completely. Remove from heat and let cool for 3 minutes.
Build the batter. Whisk sugar into the melted butter until combined. Add eggs one at a time, whisking well after each. Stir in the vanilla extract.
Add the dry ingredients. Sift in the cocoa powder, flour, salt, and baking powder. Fold together with a spatula until just combined — do not overmix. Fold in the chocolate chips.
Layer and top. Pour batter into the prepared pan and spread evenly. Press the halved peanut butter cups into the batter in four rows of four, cut side down, evenly spaced.
Bake. Bake 26–28 minutes, until the edges are set and a toothpick inserted between the peanut butter cups comes out with moist crumbs (not wet batter). Do not overbake — fudgy is the goal.
Cool and cut. Let the pan cool on a wire rack for at least 20 minutes before lifting out using the parchment overhang. Cut into 16 squares. The cleaner the cut, the more Zaria will approve.

Nutrition (per serving)

Fudgy Peanut Butter Cup Brownies — Something Sweet for the Kids After Saturday Chicken