What’s the difference between Katie and Oprah? The slutty brownie.
On the first episode of her new syndicated talk show, Katie Couric’s guest, Jessica Simpson, confessed a weakness for them. To the uninitiated, slutty brownies are a baked concoction featuring an indulgent mixture of brownie batter, chocolate chip cookie dough and Oreo cookie crumbles. What’s not to love?
But when Katie heard them described, she proffered a mock-gag.
Oprah would have been salivating, begging for a bite or even admitting to having a batch in her pantry. She would have had some on set and taken a bite on camera, connecting with Simpson and everyone else watching.
I’m not saying that every woman dreams slutty brownie dreams. But no woman I know – no woman I can relate to – thinks they sound gross.
Honestly, they sound like atomic-level comfort food, soft and gooey and so sublime a combination of everything that smells good while baking that I don’t know what type of person would find them repellent.
Hasn’t Katie ever baked a batch of nutrition-free, sugar-laden, chocolate-laced food? More to the point, hasn’t she ever tucked into a batch of anything, fresh from the oven?
What does Katie do when she’s just dropped off her youngest at college? Go for a jog?
Here’s what I know: the single worst food choice ever is the Bloomin’ Onion at The Outback Steakhouse. Here’s what else I know: coming in at an artery-clogging, calorie-crazed, healthy-choice-violating second is anything from the counter at Cinnabon.
Their tag line? “Life needs frosting.” If this were a religion, I’d convert. Baptism by icing sounds divine.
Katie, clearly, is not a member of this congregation.
Me? Suffice it to say that somewhere on the Ohio Turnpike, I found my resistance weakened and my resolve lost. Ten hours earlier I had kissed my youngest goodbye on the sloping fields in front of her dorm. She had a new life to start, and I had a 14-hour drive back home.
Maybe at the start of my drive I might have had a little bit in common with Katie. I’m an adult American woman, and a lifetime member of Weight Watchers, which means that I know what constitutes a good choice, a better choice, and a train wreck. I don’t know about the success of trickledown economics, but trickledown health-onomics is securely in place in a land where Happy Meals come with apples and carrots and a joy-free, taste-free salad is available wherever you stop to fill your tank.
In other words, if you want to make a “Katie” choice, you have options.
Back at the Ohio Oasis, I found myself staring down the salads while mentally lingering on that last hug goodbye at the campus I’d left hours and hours ago.
That’s when I realized there was no line at the Cinnabon counter.
I walked over like an alcoholic walking into a bar and claiming to want a Diet Coke. Ha. I knew what I had come for, and $3.49 later, I had it.
Disclosure: I have done the research and here’s what I know: the caffeine buzz from an iced Grande Skim Latte does not successfully counter the gluttonous food stupor that a strip of mini-Cinnabons induces. Put more succinctly, it’s not that easy to get back into the hot car on an 82 degree day and feel perky after adding so much frosting to one’s life.
Well, if Katie Couric is anything, it’s perky. So I guess Cinnabons, or slutty brownies, are not her go-to comfort food.
Judging from the proliferation of online devotion to slutty brownies, and the success of the Cinnabon franchises, I’m pretty sure Katie is the exception.
If she wants to connect to her audience, maybe she should indulge every now and then. So Katie, if you’re reading, here’s the recipe. I don’t recommend them all the time. But after you drop a child at college, or maybe when that daughter comes home, why not bake a batch?
