So a couple days ago, I came home from a long, hard day of work, and all I wanted to do was r e l a x.
After recapping my day to anyone who would listen and grabbing something to drink, I decided to use the bathroom before dinner.
I flicked on the light, shut the door and reached to lift the toilet lid when I saw none other than boobs.
Boobs. Boobs staring me in the face.
Mind you, they were not my boobs. They were foreign boobs. Strange boobs from another land of boobs I’d never seen before. Boobs in my bathroom.
The boobs-in-question were on a magazine cover (and if we’re getting technical, the July issue of GQ in which Kate Upton graces the cover) so I quickly flipped the magazine over so I could, you know, go potty in peace, in a space free of boobs other than my own.
But it was disconcerting knowing there were boobs on my toilet. I mean, it’s kinda like if Ryan Gosling was standing behind your shower curtain while you waxed your mustache hair. It’s just awkward, y’all. I can’t focus on the task at hand–my natural body functions–when I know there’s a girl licking a bomb pop right behind me.
You just can’t do it, darnit.
So I tried revolting by putting the magazine in my brother’s room or in the mail bin face down, but somehow, by magical boob fairies or something, it reappeared in our bathroom and I realized that much like being married or listening to the radio, there’s always going to be compromises to be made. For every great song on the radio, there’s a couple of lame ones. For every couple times you use the restroom, there may or may not be boobs staring you in the face. It’s just a life lesson, people. Boobs may or may not appear.
And basically, I try convincing myself that she, much like everyone else including Ryan Gosling (yes I know), uses the restroom. No one can eat chili gracefully people. No one. Just think about that one next time you find boobs on your toilet. Or Ryan Gosling in your shower.
After my um, situation, I decided to need something to get my mind off of everything that’s happened. You know, a distraction. Since shopping wasn’t an option at the moment (and what a depressing realization that was), I decided to bake. Baking is always extremely therapeutic to me–a creative release, if nothing else!–and I just so happened to have all the ingredients on hand to make some ridiculously rich, uber-decadent bars. Just the thing to make you forget something like … that, you know?
I originally got the idea from Averie at her gorgeous blog, Averie Cooks. They caught me eye with their ooey gooey goodness and absolute richness factor. White chocolate, peanut butter and marshmallows?? Who else is ready for a sugar coma?!
White Chocolate Peanut Butter Marshmallow Bars *inspired by Averie’s recipe for her White Chocolate Vanilla Marshmallow Bars
For the crust:
1 box white cake mix
1/2 cup oil
For the filling:
2/3 cup peanut butter, smooth
2/3 cup marshmallow cream
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 can sweetened condensed milk
White chocolate chips
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Liberally grease a 13×9 inch baking dish with cooking spray and set aside.
2. In a large bowl, combine the cake mix, eggs and oil with a wooden spoon until blended. Press the dough evenly into the bottom of the prepared pan; set aside.
3. In another medium bowl, mix together the peanut butter, marshmallow cream, vanilla and sweetened condensed milk to combine. Pour the mixture on top of the dough in the pan; spread to cover. Sprinkle with the white chocolate chips.
4. Bake for approx. 15-20 minutes or until the edges are light golden brown and the center is just about set. You want it to be gooeier! Allow it to cool completely in the pan before cutting into bars to serve. Store leftovers airtight for 1-2 days.
Have a super sweet Wednesday!