Before I begin, I just want to say that I’m not at all sorry for sharing this dessert with you. Yes, it’s a crazy dessert–yes, it’s so insanely good that I nearly picked through half of the pan before I managed to pry my paws off of these layered bars long enough to package them and ship them off. But will I say sorry?
The thing is, I’m a chronic sorry-sayer. If you’re not one yourself, you know one: that friend who, even when she is doing you a favor, will say “sorry” out of instinct more than anything else. And then of course, there’s the neverending loop of sorries, which usually happens when somebody points out that you’re saying sorry way too much, so your first response is to apologize for saying sorry so often–and thus begins the Great Chain of Apologies.
But as I said, I won’t be apologizing for these bars. Not even a tiny morsel, because they are unforgivingly knock-your-socks-off good.
I won’t apologize for the way your jeans fit after you eat them.
I won’t apologize for the incessant daydreams and steady stream of drool that these bars may incur during your regular work/schoolday routine, most probably (knowing your luck) right as your boss/teacher is asking you an important question.
In all seriousness, though: saying sorry really is an infliction, since the act of saying sorry when one has little to nothing for which to be sorry is really an indicator of something deeper happening. Several times in the past six months or so, I’ve called up some of my closest friends in the hopes of talking through some difficult issues–moral compasses, ethical dilemmas, others’ emotions, my own repeated near-meltdowns (or actual meltdowns, as earlier this week proved). The first words out of my mouth on every call were: “Sorry, do you have time to talk?” One text I sent said: “Sorry, can I be honest?”
And the first words my friends–all of them–said were not “of course” or “sure!” but: “Dude, don’t apologize.”
Followed by: “This is what friends are for. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to listen.”
It’s funny how entrapped we can become in our expressions without being really aware of them. When I say sorry, I am expressing an internalized, pessimistic version of how I perceive myself in my relationships with others; in a way, I’m “sorry” because I do think that my thoughts are an inconvenience and burden to other people’s energy and interests. As time goes on, however, and as my friends continue to remind me with the utmost sincerity to stop apologizing, I’ve begun to realize that I really have no reason to be sorry, but every reason to be grateful.
So to anyone out there reading this: not only am I not sorry to be sharing this dessert with you, I am immensely appreciative that I have someone as special as you around, with whom I can share this jean-busting damn delicious dessert!
And you bet your skin-tight hot pants that I am dead serious about these bars right now.
These 4-layer everything bars are a TOP TEN kind of recipe for me–hands down one of the best, mind-blowing desserts I have ever made, as long as you’re not attempted to ship it 500 miles or something by post (like I might’ve done, oops). The layers are absolutely insane, so let me walk you through them:
- Chocolate chip cookie base: a chewy chip-studded cookie base is made perfectly easy with prepared refrigerated cookie dough! Feel free to sub your favorite homemade cookie dough recipe here.
- Caramel layer: a creamy, indulgent layer of caramel made from unwrapped caramel candies oozes out over the top of the cookie base, leaving a wonderful blast of sweetness on your tongue.
- Nougat: the subtle flavor of cream, marshmallow, and peanuts fills this fluffy layer!
- Rice Krispies Chocolate Ganache: amp up your plain old ganache with some rice cereal–it adds an incredible textured crunch and brings the whole bar together into a cohesive unit of bliss.
As I said, I’m not apologizing for this one–but if I had to, it would be for the sheer amount of times folks are going to be begging you to make this recipe for them. But I’m not. Maybe I’ll glue my mouth shut with some nougat and call it a day, hm?
TRY THESE BARS ASAP and then tell me: what do you think about sorry-saying?