Way back in December 1997, a group of friends gathered in my basement. There was Jeff and Jeff and Amy and Stephanie and Chris and Chris and Katie and Andy and Monica and Camie and … shoot, I don’t know. There was a herd of us.
We were a good bunch. Our favorite hangout was the Village Inn on Van Dorn Street just up the road from our high school. We didn’t drink. We didn’t smoke. We sure didn’t do drugs. Our naughtiest behaviors involved playing the school fight song out the window of a moving vehicle and TP’ing the occasional tree. If you wanted to create the next great streaming series about a group of band geeks living life in the mid-90’s, our experiences would make a great foundation.
It was New Year’s Eve. We planned to watch a movie, play some games, and eat junk food while waiting for the ball to drop, the clock to strike midnight, and 1998 to arrive. We laid out our spread on a table along one wall. There were chips, cookies, and snacks of all sorts, along with a variety of pop — including our group favorite, Hee-Haw, that curiously yellow Mountain Dew knockoff from Hy-Vee that came in 3-liter bottles for $0.89. And there was a pan of brownies.
Nobody took a brownie at first. It wasn’t anything personal. I suppose no one wanted to be the one to dive into an undisturbed dish. They looked so picturesque! Finally, Monica spoke up.
“Who brought the brownies?”, Monica asked as she evaluated the baked goodies.
“Sadie did!”, Amy answered.
Monica grabbed a plate and began cutting the brownies into squares. “Ooh, they’re still warm!”
Others gathered around. Monica served up brownies to each of them before plating her own. She took a bite.
“Holy shit,” Monica said as she chewed. Her eyes were wide. By then, others had taken their first bites. The basement was filled with “ooohs” and “mmms”. “Sadie, did you make these brownies?”
“Yeah,” Sadie responded.
“These are fucking good brownies!”, Monica exclaimed. We all laughed. We didn’t often swear, but if somebody was going to tell it like it was, it was Monica.
“What are they? What’s in them?”
Sadie smiled shyly. “I don’t know. They don’t have a name. I kind of made them up. They have peanut butter and chocolate chips.”
Monica shoved more of the brownie into her mouth. “These things are amazing. You’ve got to name them.”
“I think you already did,” I said.
“Did I?”, Monica asked.
“Yeah. You said it yourself: they’re Fucking Good Brownies!”
The others agreed. “It suits them.” “I can’t think of a better name.” “That’s perfect!”
“I can’t call them that!”, Sadie retorted. It was true. A bold moniker like Fucking Good Brownies was out of Sadie’s comfort zone, and it certainly wasn’t consistent with her reserved demeanor.
“Well how about FGB’s then?”, I offered. And that’s how Sadie’s FGB’s were born.
I have eaten many FGB’s over the years. Many. So have our kids, our family, our friends, and even strangers at potlucks and dessert fundraisers. They are fun, simple, delicious. In many ways, FGB’s came to represent Sadie’s love for baking and for gifting the products of her baking to others. Indeed, the connection of FGB’s to Sadie helped drive my desire to ask folks to bring desserts to share at her memorial service last month. What better way to remember Sadie than with table after table of sugary delights?
Well, I’ll tell you. I want you to have Sadie’s FGB’s, too, and to share them with those you love. Any time you want.
Sadie’s FGB’s
Here are the ingredients you need:
2 1/2 cups flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1 cup margarine
1 cup peanut butter
1 cup sugar
1 cup firmly packed brown sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
Chocolate chips (to taste)
And here is how to make magic:
Preheat the oven to 350F. Stir the first four (4) ingredients together in a bowl. Set it aside. In a second bowl, beat the margarine and peanut butter with a hand mixer at medium speed until blended. Beat in the sugars, followed by the eggs and vanilla. Add the flour mix and chocolate chips, and combine. Spread into a 9” x 13” pan and bake “a long time” — at least 20 minutes, but likely longer.
“These are fucking good brownies!”, Monica exclaimed.
A week after Sadie passed away, my mom, my sister and I stood in my kitchen and discussed the upcoming memorial service. “I’m going to make a batch of Sadie’s FGB’s,” my mom said.
“Do you even know what FGB stands for or how they got their name?”, I asked her.
She and my sister both shook their heads.
“It stands for 'Fucking Good Brownies’.” My mom blushed. (We aren’t a sweary family.)
I explained. “They got their name one night when we had everybody over to our house. Monica took a bite and the first thing she said was ‘These are fucking good brownies!’”
My mom paused for a moment, then said, “Well, they are.”
If you make a batch of Sadie’s FGB’s, I would love to hear about it! Please comment here or send me your story at brent@hellomrwilson.com — with photos of you and your loved ones enjoying them, if possible!
I like that it says 1 serving at the top haha!