We interrupt this computer virus to bring you a blog post....and chocolate

This week has been just computer hell. Seriously. If there was something that could happen to my computer, it happened, then thought about it, then happened again worse. I am currently typing on my fourth-string computer because my star is down with a nasty Trojan horse virus, my back-up and its cord parted ways, and someone (I'd really like to blame my toddler, but it was me) splashed water onto my back-up's back-up and it's making a weird sizzling sound that alarms me.

Basically, my computers are the quarterback lineup of the Steelers. If my old Sony, a.k.a. Charlie Batch, doesn't pull through for me until at least one of the other issues is resolved, I'll be going to need grief counseling.

Or, perhaps I will need Smooth Road Brownies.

Let me give you some background. See...I love chocolate. I also love rocky road, with all the chunks of chocolate and nuts and chewy marshmallows giving you little pockets (or, I guess, in keeping with the metaphor, potholes) of flavor. Really, what's bad about that?

Well, according to my siblings, everything. When they were kids, they looked at any kind of lump in a brownie as a personal betrayal. Nuts were a hanging offense.

Look at this kid. Honestly, she ate three things when she was this age. French toast, cheese, and Lucky Charms. (Nice pic, huh? I snitched it off her Facebook page. Why? Well, all my pictures are stuck on the computer with the Trojan horse virus, so I'm making do with what I can get, and yet still fulfilling my commitment to give you people things to look at while you read. I'm dedicated that way.)

But even when I was in high school, I was unwilling to give in to culinary terrorists. I would, however, engage in some minor diplomatic compromise. And so, my rocky road smoothed out.

Here goes a super-simple equation for deliciousness:

Start with brownies. I like the scratch kind that are really dense and fudgy, but I would be lying if I said there were never boxes of brownie mix in my cupboard. There are. And they are good.

Mix up your batter the way you always do, whether you are melting chocolate and sifting cake flour or just adding some water and an egg. Pour in your greased up pan. NOW STOP.

It's so smooth and white and puffy. I mean, it's MARSHMALLOW. How can anyone have a problem with that? Grab a spoon. Dollop some over the batter. Eat a big spoonful when no one's looking.

Yeah, that's hot fudge. In brownies. Is it overkill? Maybe. Do I care? No. More dollops of goodness, please.

Oh, and that? That's the peanut butter. Because peanut butter is good with chocolate. And it's good with marshmallow creme. And it's good on radial tires. Put some on there! (I find it easier to melt it slightly first in the microwave. Just a few seconds.)

Now take a knife and swirl them all slightly. And then bake.

And then eat.

And then you might want to ask your doctor about some insulin.

 

Chocolate: the Wonder Drug

I am pretty sure that there is nothing that cannot be solved with chocolate. I think the Cold War could have ended decades earlier if there was hot and cold running fudge at the UN. I think Bush and Gore could have resolved hanging chads over good brownies. I think peace in the Middle East would be a hell of a lot easier if everybody's mouths were full of Hershey bars.

The endorphins, the brain chemistry, the antioxidants...there's just no downside. And that's before you even get to the taste.

When my friends and I were pregnant, and in those early days of being a mom, when colic made you question reality and sleep-starved brains warred with hormones that flucuated like the Dow Jones, chocolate was a necessary tool of our lives. We circulated a desperation treat for those late-night cocoa calls, a chocolate cake that mixed in a mug and baked in the microwave. It filled a hole, but it wasn't really...satisfying.

But chocolate doesn't have to be as complicated as the chemistry of cakes and cookies. A chocolate pizza is ridiculously easy, with just four (or five) ingredients that are probably in your kitchen right now.

This last-minute dessert is as elegant as French pastry because, well, that's kind of what it is. It's really a variation on pain au chocolate, or chocolate bread. You've probably seen it in a snooty bakery as chocolate croissants, with buttery dough rolled  around semisweet chocolate.

My version starts with something that is almost always in my refrigerator. Crescent roll dough. I've made it with pizza crust, bread dough, puff pastry, pie crust, pate a choux, etc., but crescent roll is really my favorite. First, it's buttery, and second, it's crazy convenient. Just unroll, press out in your pan, and you're ready to go.

Pretty? Oh, it's just dough, people. It's not art. Yet. That's why we spread on a little butter and sprinkle on a couple tablespoons of sugar. Throw it in the oven at 400 degrees until it's golden brown. Kind of like this.

Better already, isnt' it? Just wait. Next, you take some chocolate chips. I use about 6 ounces. Unless it's been a bad day. Or it's a day that ends in Y. Have the chips ready to go when you pull the crust out of the oven. Dump them on. Let them melt. (You can turn off the oven and just set the baking pan back in to hasten melting if you wnat. Just make sure you only do it for a few minutes. Good chocolate is a terrible thing to burn.)

Holy melted chocolate. Now, you can let this sit just the way it is. Or you can spread it. I prefer to let it retain its organic chippiness, but that's up to you. This is also a good time to point out that you can go with milk chips. Or white chips. Or any kind of chips, mixed and matched.

And that's it. You're done. It's delicious. It's simple. There's no way to make it better.

Unless you go one more step. With melted chocolate, you can throw on all kinds of fantasticness. My personal preference? Peanut butter. Melt a couple tablespoons in the microwave and drizzle over the whole thing. But you can also do chopped nuts, or crushed toffee, or raisins, or marshmallows, or leftover candy canes beaten within an inch of their lives, or...well, you get the idea.

Isn't that the best thing you've ever seen?

What? You don't have crescent roll dough...or any of the other options I mentioned? I've got a secret. A delcious secret. A friend makes the absolute most sought after treat at our local Chocolate Festival every year. People beat down the doors for his grilled pain au chocolate. Doesn't that sounds fancy? It's not. It is, pure and simple, a grilled chocolate sandwich. White bread, filled with chocolate (he uses Hershey bars), buttered and griddled like every grilled cheese sandwich you've ever had. Do NOT tell your children. They'll never eat a normal lunch again.

Pizza on the dessert cart

I love a dessert tray. Seriously, it's an addiction. My measure of a truly splendiferous restaurant is one that will bring over a beautiful tray or lovely tea cart with stunning desserts arranged on it like engagement rings in a jeweler's front window. It's something spectacular to see.

That is why when I began this pizza adventure, I had to include some dessert pizzas.

Dessert pizzas at pizza places usually leave me cold. They are almost always canned apple pie filling spread on overcooked crust with some crumbs and white icing. Sometimes this gets changed up with blueberry or cherry filling.

At home, they are usually no better. What people call a "dessert pizza" is seldom a pizza at all. It's a cookie or cake baked in a pizza pan and decorated to look like a real pizza. Sorry people, I'm not interested in gummi pepperoni.

So I went back to the drawing board and worked on real dough, with good ingredients. I wanted a pizza that could feel proud on a dessert cart. Like this one.

Chocoholics Anonymous

I created this dessert for a friend who adored chocolate. Actually, I made it for her March birthday…after she gave up chocolate for Lent. It was evil, true, but the result was so good, she graciously forgave me after the first bite. And the second slice. And the last crumb. She didn’t let anyone else have any.

1 pre-baked pizza crust
1 c. semi-sweet chocolate chips
½ c. heavy cream
1 3-oz. package cream cheese, softened
1 c. milk chocolate chips
1 t. vanilla
2 T. rum (or 1 t. rum flavoring or 2 T. coffee)
1 c. heavy cream
Garnish: shaved white chocolate, chopped nuts

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Place pizza crust on baking sheet. Bake 5-7 minutes, just to warm. Set aside.

Place semi-sweet chocolate in a large glass bowl. In a glass measuring cup, microwave half cup cream for 30 seconds. Pour over chocolate. Microwave 30 seconds, stirring every 10 seconds. Continue microwaving in 10-15 second intervals until melted. Whisk until smooth. Spread over pizza crust.

Place cream cheese in a large bowl. Using same microwave technique or a double boiler, melt milk chocolate with vanilla and rum. Beat with cream cheese until smooth. Whip one cup of heavy cream. Fold whipped cream into chocolate mixture about half a cup at a time. Spread over semi-sweet chocolate layer. Chill at least one hour. Garnish with shaved white chocolate and nuts. Slice and serve.

EXTRA EXTRA!!!

Divinely Delicious – How many foods are so good that they are deemed sincerely heavenly? The Greek word for chocolate is “theobroma,” literally, “food of the gods.” The name is a reference to its importance to the Aztecs that introduced it to their European conquerors. Originally a beverage, chocolate was an important part of religious ceremonies and sacred to the goddess Xochiquetzal. Theobromine, a compound found in chocolate, is thought to be a good cough suppressant. Chocolate also contains caffeine, tryptophan, magnesium and cannabanoids related to marijuana, plus it is believed to release endorphins and promote seratonin production in the brain. Just think of a candy bar as really, really good-tasting medicine. (www.chocolate.org)