Bar Envy

One of the unique foods in the upper midwest includes 'bars.' When we first moved here I was asked to supply bars for a funeral luncheon. The only bars I knew of were rice krispie bars - not something I associated with a funeral, but rather a backyard event with children. I made what I thought would pass for bars. My Mom warned me I was sending cake. Sure enough, the thank you note thanked me for the delicious cake. Thus began my quest to understand 'bars.'

Actually quest overstates the situation. Frankly it only comes up once a year or so. I hadn't given it much thought until the girls' piano teacher asked me to bring a pan of bars to the piano recital lunch. Don't worry about bringing them plated, she had bar trays! The pressure...I couldn't take it. Many farm women have a specialty type (or two or three). I'm not there. I shopped for a box of brownies. I thought I had it licked. I followed the directions carefully, baking in a beautiful clear glass 9x13 pan. I even carefully sprinkled powdered sugar on top. I had it licked...until I proudly carried my offering into the church kitchen. I found that I need a bar pan. This is a 9x13 no stick pan with a lid (not foil, you cretin). The other women eyed my brownies with suspicion as they didn't come in a BAR PAN. I took over half of my brownies home! Shopping.