Please stop reffering to blondies as “brownies without chocolate.” It makes them seem lacking. When I think of them as “brownies without chocolate,” I wnoder where the gooey chocolate is after every bite, and fail to appreciate the chewy, buttery sensation that is unique to blondies.
I still remember the first time I had a blondie. It was a butterscotch blondie, and it was unreal. To me, it’s not a blondie unless it’s full of butterscotch chips. Of course, these would be delicious with pretzels, nuts, M&Ms… but if you’re anything like me, don’t forget the butterscotch!
Now that my school is going through the peak of our fall sports season, there are so many bake sales/team events that I can’t even keep them all straight. These blondies are the perfect thing to bring to bring to bake sales for the following reasons.
1) I can prepare the entire batch in one bowl, in less than 10 minutes.
2) They are easy to pick up and eat.
3) They fit easily in a ziploc box in my backpack, and still look like blondies after being toted around in my bag all day.
4) I can throw whatever odds and ends I have around the kitchen into the batter, and they will be equally delicious. Ex. awkward handfuls of candy corn and abandoned Twix bars regularly make the mix.
5. They are mindbogglingly delicious.
What do you like to bring to bake sales?
8 tablespoons (1 stick, 4 ounces or 113 grams) butter, melted
1 cup (218 grams or 7 3/4 ounces for light; 238 grams or 8 3/8 ounces for dark) brown sugar
1 large egg
1 teaspoon vanilla or 1/2 teaspoon almond extract
1 cup (4 3/8 ounces or 125 grams) all-purpose flour
1/3 cup butterscotch chips
1/3 cup chocolate chips
- Butter an 8×8 pan
- Mix melted butter with brown sugar – beat until smooth. Beat in egg and then vanilla.
- Add salt, stir in flour. Mix in any additions.
- Pour into prepared pan. Bake at 350°F 20-25 minutes, or until set in the middle. I always err on the side of caution with baking times — nobody ever complained about a gooey-middled cookie. Cool on rack before cutting them.
Adapted from Smitten Kitchen