So here’s the thing: I really don’t have any semi-decent excuse for being M.I.A. the past three months. I’ve had this recipe in my arsenal for quite some time, but I just haven’t been able to bring myself to write. And considering that this summer has given me so much to write about… it’s weird. I know.
This is it.
This is the post in which I tell you that I’m a selfish person, and have the evidence to prove it. This is the post in which you get a glimpse into the thoughts of my former seventeen-year-old brain (thankfully, said brain has matured some since). This is the post in which I may simultaneous disgust/ confuse/ and impress you. The is the post in which I present you with what I have proudly dubbed “The Bar Snack Blondie.” (This is also the post in which I audaciously throw the word “the” in front of a recipe name, evidently.)
BUT we are talkin’ pretzel crust, smoked almond blondie, toasty potato chip top and chocolate drizzle. Bar Snack Blondie isn’t enough; the “The” is necessary.
So yes, this is that post.
Well, I think the answer as to how to accomplish this task is pretty obvious: with food. More specifically, with food that you, yes, YOU!, have prepared with those very hands of yours.
Food aside for a minute, a card is also a lovely gesture – especially if you’re not spending the day together. (This is my way of sneaking in an anecdote of my occasionally ridiculous life… Annnnnnd go!)
On Wednesday after work, I rushed to the post office to drop off my cards. I was so determined to beat the last collection of the day that I somehow didn’t see the mailbox “door” (which has a handle, mind you), and instead only saw the open slot above it. After staring at the contraption for a good two minutes, I finally dropped the cards in the slot… only to see the handle literally a second later. I immediately panicked and thought my cards were lost in the Boston Post Office Black Hole, so I hopped on line to alert one of the employees to my misplaced cards.
Turns out the slot is an acceptable place for your mail too… Who knew?
Also, did I mention that my cards were mailed with THE UGLIEST stamps? Yep, those were the result of my post office adventure the day before. Manly muscle car stamps on feminine Mother’s Day cards. Wonderful. (Surprise, Mom!)
Now, back to food! And where better to start than breakfast (/brunch)?!
I may or may not have eaten this pizza for breakfast.
By “may or may not,” I mean I most certainly did eat this pizza for breakfast.
Hello, Boston Harbor. Last time we met, some people were pouring Arizona iced tea in you. (Ha! Get it? Boston… Tea… Boston Tea Party. Ha. No… just, no.)
Note to all people who think pouring tea into the harbor is funny and original: It’s not. And it’s just a waste of tea (or in this case, “tea”).