poetsquib.com

i had a brownie in the hills. she said you must try their brownies, they make the best brownies, it’s such a groovy establishment. well i had to have one because it was that sort of brownie, a must have brownie, a brownie with rave reviews. as i ate i remembered nanna pulling her battered tray out of the oven and putting it on a sturt’s desert pea tea towel on the kitchen bench and it was like a real brownie should be, not sitting in a big glass jar in between macadamia and lemon myrtle biscotti and gluten free friands in a café with irritating thoughts of the day scribbled on a blackboard. no those brownies of yore stood on their own merits with no gourmandisement. i took one when nanna was hanging out her huge underpants to dry and grandpa was having a rollie on the back porch and i ate it while it was still warm and soft and i got crumbs on the lino and later when the slab had cooled i watched nanna cut and pry them out of the tray and put them in a dented shearing the rams biscuit tin. she would say i wonder who has been eating the brownies and i would watch where she put the tin with great interest. and that’s how brownies should be, they should be, they SHOULD be like that.

© meredi o