Funeral Food

I was raised in a small town south of St. Louis, and some of the habits from those days have never left me. It’s difficult for me to telephone anyone…

I was raised in a small town south of St. Louis, and some of the habits from those days have never left me. It’s difficult for me to telephone anyone after 9 p.m., a handmade quilt is still a first-tier wedding present—and, boy, isn’t that something that’s gone from appreciated to laughed at to almost revered?—and when there’s a death in the family of a neighbor or close friend, I cook.

When I was first writing about food, I brought a cake to one of my editors after a family death. The family seemed a little taken aback, and I thought perhaps people didn’t do such things in the big city. But I was at an age where few of my peers had much experience with losing close family members, and as time passed, I reverted to my old habits.

What do I cook? When I was a struggling single mother, it was a plate of brownies or deviled eggs. These days, I mull on it a little more. On the whole, I prefer food that doesn’t have to be refrigerated, because space can get tight at such times. I pay attention to the people I’m feeding; if I know my friend is diabetic, I don’t bring a sugar-sweetened dessert. If I can, I put the food in a disposable container, easy enough these days, or I put an address label on the bottom of something that will need to be returned.

Among my usual options (some of which break the refrigerator rule) are potato salad, a chocolate pound cake or layer cake, the latter with a mocha frosting, or homemade bread. The latter comes in particularly handy when a deli platter or a ham arrives. And that brings us to ready-made. In this day and age of busy people and first-rate purveyors, it’s perfectly acceptable. I’ve known people to arrive with sacks of paper plates and napkins, potato chips to feed the kids, and tubs of good ice cream. Spiral-sliced hams and buckets of fried chicken seldom go to waste, of course. And I hear that people welcome breakfast-y pastries. (Maybe a pound of coffee alongside?)

These brownies are not the version I made in those slightly hardscrabble days I spoke of earlier. They’re far richer and more elaborate. For a period of my life I made a wide variety of brownies, from banana to whole wheat/black walnut. These are absolutely the best of the lot.

MY BEST BROWNIES

1/4 lb. (1 stick) plus 1 Tbs. softened unsalted butter

1 Tbs. unsweetened cocoa

1/2 lb.(8 oz.) semisweet chocolate

3/4 c. granulated sugar

2 eggs, room temperature

2 tsp. vanilla

1/3 c. sour cream

1/3 c. all-purpose flour

1/4 tsp. salt

1/4 tsp. baking powder

1/2 c. chopped walnuts (or even a little more)

1/2 c. semisweet chocolate chips—I like the mini chips here

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees, and make sure there’s an oven rack on the middle level. Line an 8-inch square pan with foil. Coat the foil with the tablespoon of butter and dust it with the cocoa.

Chop the chocolate coarsely (you can use a food processor for this) and put it in a heat-proof bowl. Combine sugar and the 1/4 pound butter in a small saucepan. Stir over low heat until the sugar partially dissolves, about 5 or 6 minutes. Don’t let it boil. Put the eggs and vanilla into the bowl of a food processor fitted with a metal blade. Turn the motor on, and as it’s running, pour the hot butter mixture over the eggs. Pour this mixture over the bits of chocolate. Let stand for 5 minutes, and then stir until the chocolate is melted and smooth. Stir in the sour cream.

Sift the flour, salt and baking powder. Stir those dry ingredients, the walnuts and chocolate into the chocolate mixture. It will be very thick. Put the batter into the prepared pan and smooth out to make an even layer.

Bake about 50 minutes. A cake tester will come out clean. The best time to slice these is when they’re still slightly warm.

Makes 16 brownies.

Ann