Old Fashioned Fudgy Frosted Brownies

Two weeks. Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty-six hours until Clay walks out the door and doesn't come back for ten weeks, and after those ten weeks he goes somewhere else, and after somewhere else he goes to war, and after war — after war, he comes home. That's the plan. That's the only plan I'm willing to consider. Any other plan is inadmissible in the court of this kitchen.

Connie and I have entered what I'm calling the "feeding phase." We're cooking every meal Clay likes, in rotation, with the intensity of parents who have a finite number of dinners left and intend to make every one count. Monday: soup beans. Tuesday: fried chicken. Wednesday: ribs. Thursday: chicken and dumplings. Friday: pizza (store-bought, because even desperate parents need a night off). Saturday: brisket. Sunday: pot roast. It's a greatest-hits tour of the Hensley kitchen and Clay is eating all of it with the dedication of a man who knows mess hall food is in his future.

I'm also making things for him to take. Not to Basic — you can't bring food to Basic Training, which seems cruel but probably builds character. For after. For AIT. For whenever he has a kitchen or a microwave or a buddy with a hot plate. I'm freezing containers of chili, bags of soup, portions of pulled pork. I'm writing recipes on index cards in my careful handwriting — Betty's biscuits, my ribs, Connie's potato salad — and putting them in a ziplock bag that Clay will throw in his duffle and probably never look at but that I need to give him because the recipes are the words I can't say and the index cards are the letters I can't write.

Clay caught me writing the cards on Wednesday night. He came into the kitchen and saw me hunched over the counter with a pen and a stack of three-by-fives and he said "What are you doing?" I said "Writing you recipes." He picked one up. Read it. It was the soup beans recipe — Betty's, the one I started this blog with. He read it and put it back down and said "Thanks, Dad." Then he picked the card back up and put it in his pocket and walked away. He kept it. He kept the soup bean card. That's enough. That's everything.

Wednesday night, after Clay walked away with that soup bean card in his pocket, I stood at the counter a little longer and thought about what else deserved to be written down. The soup beans are his roots — but brownies are his request every single birthday, every single Christmas, every time he’s ever needed something good and certain in the world. If I’m filling a ziplock bag with index cards, this one has to be in there. I wrapped a double batch in foil and put them in the freezer labeled with his name, because whether he finds a microwave in AIT or shares them with his bunk, he should have something from this kitchen in his hands.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 24 brownies

Ingredients

1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter
2 cups granulated sugar
4 large eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
3/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
For the frosting:
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
1/3 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
2 cups powdered sugar, sifted
3–4 tablespoons whole milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 350°F. Grease a 9x13-inch baking pan and line with parchment paper, leaving an overhang on the 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 5 minutes.
Mix the wet ingredients. Whisk the granulated 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 the cocoa powder, flour, salt, and baking powder directly into the wet mixture. Fold gently with a spatula until just combined — do not overmix. The batter will be thick and glossy.
Bake. Spread the batter evenly into the prepared pan. Bake for 28–32 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out with moist crumbs (not wet batter). Do not overbake — fudgy brownies should look slightly underdone at the pull.
Cool completely. Let the brownies cool in the pan on a wire rack for at least 1 hour before frosting. Frosting warm brownies will make the frosting slide off.
Make the frosting. Beat the softened butter until smooth. Add the cocoa powder and mix until incorporated. Add the powdered sugar one cup at a time, alternating with tablespoons of milk, and beat until the frosting is smooth and spreadable. Stir in the vanilla.
Frost and cut. Spread the frosting in an even layer over the cooled brownies. Allow the frosting to set for 15 minutes, then lift from the pan using the parchment overhang and cut into 24 squares.
To freeze. Layer cut brownies between sheets of parchment in a freezer-safe container or zip bag. Freeze up to 3 months. Thaw at room temperature for 1–2 hours.

Nutrition (per serving)

Old Fashioned Fudgy Frosted Brownies — The Recipe Card I Put in His Pocket