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As you may or may not remember, I’m a notoriously horrible baker. It’s the reason I have yet to bake D-Man a birthday cake in all the years we’ve known each other. It’s the reason I don’t volunteer to bring dessert. It’s the reason the most cake-like thing I ever bother making is cheesecake. Quiches and deep-dish pizzas I can do. But muffins, brownies, and birthday cakes? No, thank you.

I have an inkling this might be why Jamie insisted that I bake slutty brownies, from a continent and an ocean away. She sent me the recipe several weeks ago, and has since asked, “Have you made them yet?” more consistently than our teenage love for Paul Walker.

But what are friends for, if they’re not there to challenge your limits?

One thing you should know about Jamie is that she’s always enjoyed pushing limits. Like that one time she convinced me that our fake IDs would work in Vegas and we ended up getting kicked out of the club. I muttered, “Oh well, that’s that.” But Jamie laughed, hailed a cab, and proceeded to gain us entry into an Australian-themed bar where we were later included in some ad they were shooting. For a few years afterward, I was afraid that one of my family members would go to Vegas and see me on TV, gleefully sipping Long Islands and skipping around on the dance floor.

Yet, what I adore most about Jamie is that she wears her heart on her sleeve. She’ll use a microphone, plugged into giant DJ speakers, to belt out a Backstreet Boys song on your 15th birthday (I have a terrific video). She’ll make sure you know all the songs before taking you to a Yellowcard concert. She’ll blatantly let you know she’s resisting the urge to punch you in the face when you jump on her bed at 6:30 on a Saturday morning, begging her to accompany you to a pancake breakfast. She’ll be so happy you’ve come to visit from out-of-state, she’ll knock you over while hugging you in the middle of the airport, and won’t care who sees it. She’ll let you know that the guy you’re dating is a jackass a year before you realize it yourself. She’ll give your younger sister “little sister to little sister” advice. And there will be a pink, handwritten 5-page letter waiting for you at home upon returning from your first year abroad, letting you know how much she’s missed you.

So Jamie, here’s to 12 years of postcards, letters, burned CDs, ups, downs, laughter, rants, embarrassing moments, car conversations, care packages, and a plethora of memories I was very terrified you might share with the rest of my family on my wedding day. Rest-assured, that terrific video of your makeshift karaoke days is safe with me. ;)

 

To make Cookie Lasagna, you will need:

Cookie Dough:
1 cup flour
1/2 cup melted butter
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup white sugar
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
2 tsp vanilla extract
1 egg
1 cup chocolate chips

Oreos!

Brownie Mix:
1/4 cup flour
1/2 cup melted butter
1/4 cup cocoa
1/2 cup white sugar
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 egg

and Sprinkles!

 

Step 1. Preheat your oven to 350ºF, or 180ºC.

Step 2. If you’re making your own cookie dough and brownie batter, make sure to mix the dry ingredients (flour, baking powder, salt) separately from the “wet” ingredients (butter, sugar, egg, and vanilla extract), before mixing it all together. The batter comes out smoother. Mix with a fork if you prefer a less fluffy dessert.

Step 3. Find a deep baking tray as a recipient (all I had were little lasagna dishes), and line the bottom with wax paper!! (something I forgot to do).

Step 4. Layer the bottom of the baking tray with the cookie dough. (Save any extra cookie dough in a tupperware container and freeze for future cookie-making).

 

Step 5. Next layer…Oreos!

 

Step 6. Pour the brownie batter over the Oreos.

 

Step 7. Bake for 30 minutes.

 

Step 8. Remove from oven and allow the brownies to cool. Then remove from tray, add sprinkles, cut into bite-size squares, and…ta-da!

 

Okay. I was sad that you couldn’t see the three different layers. And that my slutty brownies didn’t look anywhere near as scrumptious as the original Londoner‘s recipe. But you know what? The point is that I tried. Besides, D-Man ate a handful of bite-sized pieces, and the house smelled like chocolatey goodness.

You know this post makes you want to share a funny friend story in the comments section…