I biked to the beach this morning, getting there early enough to be the only one in sight. The day was still brand new, existing in that tenuous and delicate state of creating itself anew, before it has declared what it will be: sunny and hot or warm and breezy or cloudy and persistently gray. This beach—my beach—is rocky and wide, stretching for miles in both directions before twisting and turning to hide itself behind the far-off sandy cliffs of Orient Point.
When you get there, you arrive at the very top of a flight of wooden stairs, and you look down upon the water. It’s spread out in front of you and it always seems to me to be like a stage, showing off a different scene every hour depending on the shifting light and weather. In the early hours of the morning, a thick fog often hovers over the water, like a curtain waiting to be pulled back to reveal the day behind it.
Today the mist was thicker than usual—a half mile from the beach, I was almost sweating in the sticky humidity and minutes later, I biked straight into a cloud of cool air, enveloping me in a visible swirl of fog.
A very nice way to wake up, isn’t it? Something that astounds you, something that feels like a dreamscape from a nature book, something that makes you want to ditch your house and your car and go live—John Muir-like—in a tent on the fern-covered shore of a misty New Hampshire lake, trails and mountains beckoning in the distance.
But of course, it’s back to the house which promises its own delicious comforts: a warm shower, a gentle three-minute stretch and few half-hearted pushups on the bedroom floor (IT’S A WORKOUT PEOPLE, ROLL WITH IT), and a plate of avocado toast (which I made by slicing the sole remaining Martin’s potato bun—leftover from Sunday’s burger night—in thirds horizontally, then toasting, then smothering with mashed avocado and Maldon sea salt and a drizzle of pomegranate molasses).
The fog still hasn’t lifted by 10:30 AM, but there are weak rays of sunlight fighting to stream through the clouds outside, and I suspect it’ll be hot and bright by noon.
Funny how that is—a day can pivot from moody and gray to cheerily clear in under an hour. As I write this, there’s blue sky emerging overhead as if I’ve summoned it.
This is a good day for baking: because it’s a Wednesday, because it’s quiet outside, because I found a bag of pecans in the pantry. Because we have no dessert unless you consider a shard of bittersweet Sharffen Berger baking chocolate dessert. Because I’ll turn the oven on anyway to bake some crispy mushrooms for dinner (creminis—sliced thinly and tossed with olive oil and salt).
So, what to bake? I have blueberries in the crisper drawer, but summer is outdoor berry-eating weather, and those must be reserved for sitting in the backyard in a bikini and jean shorts, plucking each fat, juicy berry out of the bowl one by one.
Plus, have you heard of this thing called chocolate? It’s good. Real good. And actually a medically proven mood booster, similar to an icy-cold gin & tonic (jury is out on the medical advice on that one, sorry).
And if it’s going to be chocolate, let’s make it really and truly chocolate. Brownies are the way to go here, but I’m always tempted to do more to a batch of brownies. The classic recipe is great, yes, but tinkering with them is so fun.
(Editor’s note: I was listening to a Bon Appetit podcast in which they were discussing why you shouldn’t add to a brownie recipe just for the sake of being sensational—like adding Frosted Flakes—but any addition should have purpose. I agree!)
So let’s think about what we could add to a brownie that would be purposeful and value-added (how businesslike do I sound right now?!). A cheesecake swirl would add creaminess and a tang to cut the richness. Tahini, nuttiness. Fruit, some brightness.
What I’m really after is texture—so I decide on nuts for crunch. But I truly despise nuts in my brownies (sorry to walnut brownie lovers everywhere) so I’m thinking of ways to add them on top.
I’m not going to just sprinkle a handful of pecans on top of the batter and call it a day, because that feels weak and a little novice. And I think we can all consider ourselves experts here in the realm of dessert (or dessert-eating at the very least).
I consider other nut-based desserts, and what comes to mind is pecan pie. Could I take the filling of a pecan pie, dial back the sugar, and spread it on top of brownie batter? Would it bake up well together? Would it be too sweet? Or would it be, actually, superlative in every way?
Answer: superlative. But also very rich, so I’d recommend not eating three in quick succession. Just a bit of advice from me to you.
Note: Most pecan pie recipes are very sugary, and most call for corn syrup. Instead, I based my topping on a great recipe from King Arthur Flour which uses no corn syrup, which is my preference.
Pecan Pie Brownies
Makes one 9” x 13” pan
For the brownie batter
1/2 cup (113g) unsalted butter
2 cups (340g) semisweet chocolate chips
3/4 cup (160g) brown sugar
1/2 cup (99g) granulated sugar
4 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 cup (42g) cocoa powder
1/2 cup (60g) all-purpose flour
For the pecan pie topping
1/2 cup (113g) unsalted butter
1/4 cup (28g) all-purpose flour
2 cups (426g) brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
6 tablespoons (85g) milk
3 eggs, beaten lightly
2 teaspoons vinegar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
3/4 cup (85g) diced pecans
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line a 9” x 13” pan with parchment paper then grease the paper and the sides of the pan.
Make the brownie batter: Melt together the butter and chocolate, stirring until smooth.
Add the brown sugar and granulated sugar and whisk until smooth. Add the eggs, one at a time, whisking well until the batter is shiny.
Add the vanilla, salt, cocoa powder, and flour and mix until smooth.
Pour the brownie batter into the prepared pan, and bake for 35 minutes. Remove from the oven.
While the brownies bake, make the pecan pie topping. Melt the butter and set aside.
Whisk together the flour, sugar, and salt. Add the milk and eggs and beat well. Whisk in the vinegar and vanilla, then the melted butter, then stir in the diced pecans.
Pour the pecan pie topping evenly over the warm pan of brownies as soon as you take it out of the oven. Return to the oven and bake for an additional 20 to 25 minutes, or until the topping is set.
Remove from the oven and let cool slightly before slicing.