Boy oh boy, I wish I had one of these right now, but I ate them all lickity split they were so good. Shame on me for not making these more often too. I got this recipe from my SIL, Ellen over ten years ago and I have only made them three times. Why? I have no idea because I love the chewiness of the oatmeal, of course the chocolate, and the subtle peanut butter undertones. This is a delicious bar and very perfect for this time of year for Christmas Homemade gift giving. Give this to your oatmeal, peanut butter lovin’ friends.
Chewy Chocolate Peanut Butter Bars
1 C. packed brown sugar
2/3 C. butter, softened
1/3 cup light corn syrup
1 t. vanilla extract
4 cups quick oats
2 cups chocolate chips, divided
2/3 C. peanut butter
1/2 C. chopped peanuts
Beat brown sugar and butter in a large mixing bowl until creamy. Beat in corn syrup and vanilla, stir in oats and press mixture into greased 9 x 13 inch baking dish. Bake in 350° oven for 15 minutes; cool slightly. Melt 1 cup chocolate chips and peanut butter gently in the microwave until smooth. Spread over oatmeal base. Sprinkle with peanuts and the remaining chocolate chips, pressing down slightly. Chill one hour in refrigerator until set. Set on counter top until room temperature again then cut. It will be impossible to cut if cold. Makes 24 bars.
A Constant Source of Entertainment: Children and Spilled Milk
A long time ago, when I was home alone all day with two little baby boys, my life was very exhausting. I cleaned, mopped, laundered, bathed babies, changed diapers, and did it all over again an hour later. One day, I had just mopped the floor. You know, the good mopping. Moved furniture, got the baseboards, corners, scraped up who knows what. When I was done my 3 1/2 year old promptly spilled an entire glass of milk on MY CLEAN FLOOR. I got back down on the floor and as I was wiping up the spill, almost in tears, I said, “Who am I?”
Dryden, looking perplexed said, “You are Momma.”
“No, who am I?” I said again more frustrated.
“You’re Momma!” he said.
“No WHO am I?” I asked very angrily, closer to tears.
“Momma?” he asked, now very upset, lip quivering.
“No, I’m Cinderella because all I do is clean up after you kids all day.” I proclaimed loudly.
“You’re not Cinderella,” he cried, pointing his little finger at me, “you’re the Wicked Step Mother.”
Then we both cried.
Have a Great Weekend! Enjoy your babies, spilled milk and all because look- they grow up.