Boozy Blondie

While some of my sisters have spent the last week figuring out ingenious ways to keep their culinary creations both devout and delicious, I decided to take a more hedonistic approach. (Typical, I know).   

BEHOLD the BLONDIE

Blondies are often thought of as the Brownie's homely little sister. They're the plain one, not cool, not popular, not sexy.  Why anyone would be interested in these pallid pastries is beyond the imaginations of many, but not me.  Blondies--like many boring babes--can be awesome, you just need to get some booze in them (I kid, I kid). But seriously, they're a great blank canvas, and like the protagonist of many a teen movie, you just need to look past your preconceived notions of what a blondie is, and you'll see that there is "life-of-the-party" potential in this puddin.  

Boozy Blondies

1/2 cup dark rum or bourbon
1/2 cup dried figs (cut in small pieces)

2 cups (280g) unbleached all purpose flour — if you don’t have a scale, then scoop rather than spoon

1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 cup (230 grams) melted, very warm, unsalted butter

2 cups packed golden brown sugar (420 grams)

2 whole eggs

2 teaspoons vanilla

1 1/2 cups bittersweet chocolate chips/ chunks

3/4 cup toasted pecan pieces (optional)

1 cup toasted coconut

Instructions

1. Heat the booze and pour over the figs, let this concoction sit for a while (I did overnight, but an hour or so should be fine)
2. Preheat oven to 350 F degrees. (176 C). Line a 13×9 inch pan with foil or parchment paper or foil.
3. Decant the liquor from the figs, and save both. 
4. Mix together the flour, baking powder and salt; set aside. Beat together butter and brown sugar. If you’ve used very hot butter, let the mixture cool for 5 minutes before beating in the egg. With a spoon or whisk, gently beat in the eggs, vanilla and rum. Stir dry ingredients into batter. Let the batter cool down if it is still warm, then stir in the chips, pecans, coconut and figs.
5. Spread in pan and bake for about 35 minutes or until pale golden and edges start to pull away from the sides.

Think of this reminder as more of a Fatboy Slim lyric and less of a broken record.  

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