I study politics and engage in human rights activism as a sort of dual-track career. As you may imagine these two choices are not wise for those who enjoy getting their way; I expend a great deal of professional energy only to be denied things I wish for. Clearly I have a broken cynicism/optimism regulators are broken, or more likely my stubbornness is the trump card that stacks my deck. I am however susceptible to temporary bouts of negativity. Know what I do about it? I sweepingly pontificate about some inane if ostensible trait of modern society. Try it. It’s good old fashioned fun that if orchestrated well enough can make you sound smarter – and appear a better cook – just watch…

We live in a global society where appearance is tantamount to capability. The veneer that one looks like they know what they’re doing suffices as good enough for most folks. That’s right folks it’s all about the window dressing now. How else are you going to explain the Republican presidential candidates? What other than illusion props up the career of the semi-tasty Sandra Lee? My brother might posit that this is to this, what this is to this. Oh sure, constructing an attractive image does take some measured consideration and thereby suggests some underlying skill. But does that capability make? Well these guys thought so.

This plays in our favor my foodie friends. Without risking sanctimony by becoming Sandra Lee we can bend this cognitive fixation with appearance to our benefit. The garnish on every dish you have ever eaten tells you this is true. Take for instance this piteous cake pop:

More akin to a rough hewn mud crater than anything approaching edible, its wretched, disfigured appearance suggests a life lived in a bell tower pining over the workaday existence of more normal confections. It’s brethren from the same batch strikes a far more regal appearance:

A crisscrossed swipe of a piping bag gave this cake ball the life its destitute compatriot may only dream of. This is what you pay $3.50 for at a tres chic bakery; the other one you claim your hyperactive daughter made in kindergarten while cranky. Let’s review:

Same ingredients (save one), same cook, same batch, same technique, same time. Which one would you rather eat? See, when it comes to decision time we choose on appearance. I unloaded about sixty cake balls using this human loophole so it worked for me. Appearance, more than skill, earned me gobs of praise. It just has to look good enough for us to think it’s the next best thing ever. And who knows, maybe it works on a grander scale. Mitt Romney is banking his entire campaign on it.

If you read food blogs then you have no doubt run across entries which begin, "Been a while..." or "I'm so sorry for my lack of updates..." or even, "I haven't been able to post as much lately..." The format for these sorts of posts are then fairly predictable, as if laid out in some tacit food blogger convention. It is somehow a blogger's duty to 1) apologize for the absence, 2) self-flagellate a bit, 3) enter paltry rationale for absence, 4) promise to not relapse into obscurity again. This format also serves nicely when explaining to one's child why they have been absent from the house on a crack jag for two weeks leaving the youngster to fend for themselves. This all leads me to wonder about the OTHER habits of folks who food blog. Something is making all these people hungry...

Well let me save you the time. I/we are back, and that's good enough. Happy? Good. We are too.

*enter naturally brilliant segway to Goat Cheese Brownies*

When I was a child I was quite literally the world's most predictable eater (predictability = P.C. for "picky"). No really, Hugh Grant's acting range was greater than my choices in food. If it wasn't carbohydrate laden I didn't think of it as edible. The greater the sucrose content, the greater my willingness to consume it. Fried was acceptable, but sautee? How much(little) oil is used in that? Psh...you need another half bottle of EVOO in there. Not hard to believe then that my culinary creativity was limited to mixing kinds of cereal. Quaker Oatmeal Squares and Almond Crisp in the same bowl made me feel like a revolutionary.

So for all my lack of imagination, courage, and stubbornness in pushing the "yum" boundaries I am making a concerted effort to gain back lost time. Today I am more likely to be allured by flavor combinations that I have never thought of before. The more strange the food, the more likely I am to put at least a spoonful in my mouth with an open mind. I may not be as crazy as the guy from The Food In My Beard, but I would kill to be his neighbor. This emergent sense of gastronomic creativity is most likely the result of my expanding range of culinary skills.

So when that chasm of non-productivity Foodgawker showed Goat Cheese Brownies one day my interests were quite piqued. My co-author, whose gastronomic adventurer's credentials are much better vetted than mine, readily assented.

Yes that crescent of whipped cream is my weaksauce attempt to make a brownie "pretty" - shut up.

We chose different brownie base recipes, as my brother feels that his brownies are the likely gateway to nirvana/heaven/the Elysian fields. Being the brownie skeptic that I am I had to go in search of a recipe that was accessible enough for me to pull off, and entreating enough to be excited about it. I mean it's a brownie; least interesting of the bar cookies (folks that's a dangerous claim that deserves it's own post so put down the rocks...). We did however use the same filling and icing recipe.

I do not feel that my writing strengths run to succinct, vivid descriptions of the food I cook and consume so let me put this in terms that make universal sense: I lost at least a quarter of the filling and the icing directly from the bowl into my mouth. Further evidence of amazingness: I consumed no less than a 1/3 of the entire pan solo. The juxtaposition of rich dark chocolate and tangy goats cheese?

If this this picture could speak: "GOOOOOOOOEEEEEEYYYYYY"

I do not feel that my writing strengths run to succinct, vivid descriptions of the food I cook and consume so let me put this in terms that make universal sense: I lost at least a quarter of the filling and the icing directly from the bowl into my mouth. Further evidence of amazingness: I consumed no less than a 1/3 of the entire pan solo. The juxtaposition of rich dark chocolate and tangy goats cheese?

It was a great welcome back present for the blog. You're all welcome.