Really, really, really bad cookie bars

Our pregnant neighbour's grandmother died this week. It's actually a bit of a relief because I knew something was up. Like everyone, they're pretty much creatures of habit, and I noticed that things have been a little different the last few days. Cars were there when they shouldn't have been, people were coming and going, and they were home at odd hours of the day.

It scared the crap out of me, what with my innocence having been robbed and all.

Anyway, S told me the news this morning when he stuck his head into the garage I was busily cleaning to say hi. I managed to say I'm sorry, but I think I may have look a little too happy. I was just so afraid there was something wrong with the baby, and finding out it was an 85-year old who'd died instead was, well, a relief. Sad, yes, but a chest-emptying-sigh kind of relief just the same.

They were so sweet to us when Thomas died and they even brought flowers over a few days after his birthday last month, so I decided to make them a little treat. Nothing says comfort like home-baked cookies or cakes.

I guess that goes without saying. We all know how I feel about cake.

So I scoured my chocolate cookbook for a recipe and found chocolate pecan toffee squares, which I thought sounded pretty darn good. And not only because I've been depriving myself of gooey sounding treats like the aforementioned since January 2nd. They really did sound quite nice and very giveawayable.

It was a nice, simple recipe and it even indicated that you could use whole wheat flour if desired. I figured that since M is pregnant, she might like the idea of a slightly healthier treat. So I opted for the whole wheat.

Note: whole wheat doesn't work.

The bars broke while I was taking them out of the pan but that was the least of my problems (and probably not a result of the flour) since there was still enough usable surface area to salvage. The big problem was the taste.

They sucked.

The end result was something akin to melted chocolate and nuts on top of a crumbly whole wheat sandwich. A musty, stale whole wheat sandwich.

They were disgusting - and certainly not something you'd want to take to a grieving pregnant woman. Pregnant women, grieving or not, are pretty particular about food. You can't wave something that looks delicious in front of their faces and allow them to discover that the beautiful, chocolate covered treat actually tastes like feet.

So there they sit, a pile of musty, stale whole wheat bars covered in an entire (and tragically wasted) bag of melted chocolate chips. My Beloved thinks they're okay (he has a notoriously poor sense of smell which is the only reason I can think that he'd actually find these even remotely palatable) so it looks like he's set for treats for a good long while.

As for me, I'm out one bag of chips and a gift for our sad neighbours.

Maybe I'll pick something up at the bakery on the way home from church tomorrow.

Something with absolutely no trace of whole grain and zero nutritional value. It's bound to taste good then.