Set your eyes on these chocolatey, gooey brownies. I bet they’re delicious. Not that it really matters.
I currently have a freezer full of pot brownies. This is what a pot brownie looks like. Looks pretty good! Unfortunately I have no idea what they taste like or whether they’re chocolatey and gooey or not, because I don’t smoke pot. Or eat it. But when given the opportunity to cook with an (at the time) illegal ingredient procured from an elderly woman with a Christmas obsession … I wasn’t going to say no. You just don’t say no to something like that. Just like I didn’t say no to cooking with and eventually eating corn warts.
I’ve given many of these pot brownies away but when I ask about them, no one has ever described how they taste. Mainly I get comments like, Best night’s sleep of my life! Magical! Or Do you have any more?
They look just like a regular brownie so I assume that’s what they taste like. And since they look remarkably similar to a regular brownie I’m very careful about labelling them.
There will be no confusing these with anything other than pot brownies in my freezer. As an added precaution I also never ask any dyslexic people to go rooting around my house for brown pots.
So if I don’t eat pot brownies, or smoke pot, how did I end up with a freezer full of pot brownies? Here’s how …
Last year when I was in the thick of some ridiculousness I had to make a run to my local hardware store. I needed to pick up some flat, black spray paint for something or other. Just as I wormed my way into the very busy paint aisle my phone rang. I scrambled to pull it out of my purse and looked down to see it was my mother calling. I decided I had better answer it. She’s old and God knows what kind of trouble she could be in. She may have had a funny cat story that needed to be told immediately or couldn’t find Jeopardy on television. Any number of tragedies could be impending. So I picked up.
I should emphasize at this point that my mother has the projective speaking voice of a partially deaf theatre actor. When she gets on the phone it’s on par with the sound level of an air craft carrier. As I stood there in the paint aisle, sandwiched between 7 or 8 perfectly respectable looking people in need of paint, my mother started describing an old people party that she had been to the night before.
I pushed the phone a little harder to my ear to drown her voice out from the people around me. My mother was speaking at a frenzied, excited pace. And loudly. VERY loudly. I squished the phone harder to my face but it was no use. Everyone around me could hear her retelling the story of the night before.
You’ll NEVER believe what my friend was making brownies out of. POT! SHE MAKES BROWNIES OUT OF POT AND SHE MAKES HER OWN POT BUTTER AT HOME IN A CROCK POT OUT OF POT SO THE BUTTER IN THE POT BROWNIES IS FILLED WITH POT !!! THAT’S MARIJUANA!!!
Within seconds I’d scrambled out of the paint aisle crowd into a less populated area of the store. I let her finish telling the story and immediately asked for her friend’s name, phone number and address. I don’t smoke pot but I do love an interesting adventure and trying new recipes. If they both happen to be illegal then that makes a great story and I love those too. My mother was not sure about the whole venture and at first withheld her friend’s phone number. What would her friend think of me? Looking to buy butter made with cannabis.
After unscrewing my face from the wtf are you TALKING about look it had frozen into I explained to my mother that it was her friend who would be selling me her own canna butter.
Yes. I know. I don’t want my friends thinking you’re some druggie. Was the answer I got.
At this point I had to remind myself I was dealing with the elderly and had to explain to my mother that her friend, the one making the pot butter in her own kitchen, with Wheel of Fortune blasting in the background wasn’t going to think less of me for buying her pot butter. She would only think less of me when I told her I wasn’t going to try it myself.
It took some convincing but I finally coaxed the name and phone number out of her. My canna butter dealer had been secured. Now I just needed to actually score it.
My drive to the pickup point took me through a maze of terrifying streets. Perfect homes set on a perfect lawns filled with perfectly suburban people. It was a horror I tell you.
Within a couple of days of the paint aisle I found myself in the kitchen of an older woman and her husband as they eyeballed what they thought might be a half a pound of canna butter.
They dumped the butter into a Ziploc baggie, and then that baggie into another one filled with ice and proceeded to give me a tour of the house including an outline of how they were planning to decorate for Christmas in 6 months time. We said our good-byes as she pressed a brownie recipe into my hands.
Pot Brownie Recipe
These brownie are made with Canna Butter. Canna butter varies in potency so make sure you know what you're doing before mixing up a batch of these.
- 8 ounces chocolate squares, unsweetened
- 3/4 cup butter 1/2 cannabutter and 1/4 unsalted butter
- 2 cups sugar
- 1/4 cup cocoa unsweetened
- 1 cup nuts hazel, walnuts or pecans chopped
- 3 eggs
- 2 tsps vanilla extract
- 1 cup flour
- 1/4 tsp salt
- 1 tbps sea salt flakes
Heat oven to 175 C (350F)
Melt the chocolate, cannabutter and regular butter in double boiler or in microwave.
Stir in sugar, eggs, vanilla and nuts. Mix well.
Incorporate flour and salt to wet mixture.
Spread the batter into a parchment lined pan. (9 X 13")
Sprinkle the top of the batter with chopped nuts and bake for 30 minutes.
Remove from oven and sprinkle the top of the brownies with flaked sea salt.
Be very careful and conscious when cooking with any cannabis product. Cannabis oil is sticky and all utensils and pots need to be thoroughly cleaned and scoured a few times after use.
Remember not to lick the spoon or test the batter and please don't make recreational pot brownies with children around. They are INDISTINGUISHABLE from regular brownies.
Wipe all counters and cutting boards maniacally.
Hopping in my car I made my way out of the survey. I rolled down the window, hung my arm out and tried to find a song on the radio that was appropriate for the occasion. Maybe some gangsta rap or hardcore punk; something to illustrate to those around me exactly how much of a badass I was – rolling low down the road in my V.O.L.V.Oooo.
Several months later I pulled the butter out of my freezer. A family member was coming to visit and as a child of the 60’s, they were known to embrace all that came with that era.
That night, I thew on an apron, some Bob Marley and a respirator mask (being a badass doesn’t mean you have to be careless) and proceeded to make some brownies I would never taste.
I’ll let you know when I figure out pot potato chips.
Have a good weekend!
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