I’m almost certain Katherine Hepburn never baked a frownie in her life. In fact, I’m sure she would have considered piping sad faces onto baked goods a waste of both time and powdered sugar.
But Miss Hepburn had no need for frownies. Her intelligent, ferociously angular face was capable of displaying the full gamut of emotions, rendering the need to convey her mood through the combined media of cocoa, butter, and sugar unnecessary. If you’re not convinced, I suggest you consult one of her four Best Actress Oscars.
I, on the other hand, lack her wide range of facial articulation. I need all the help I can get when it comes to expressing myself, which is probably why I write.
And why I sometimes find myself eating my feelings.
This hellish past week has felt more like one hell of a year and my brain is currently struggling to process all the ups and downs and twists and turns each fresh hit of news delivers. Despair, anger, frustration, confusion, mistrust, paranoia, hope, and ultimately exhaustion have done their collective number on my ability to sleep, reason, and concentrate.
I found myself in the kitchen over the weekend, self-medicating by whipping up a batch of The Great Kate’s fudgy, walnut-riddled brownies because it was far too early in the day for a large martini. After letting them cool, I piped unhappy, water icing faces on them as a sort of catchall expression of my general mood because I didn’t know what else to do with them. Or with myself.
This was emergency baking and a panful of simple brownies would not meet the crisis. Stronger medicine was needed.
Frownies seemed as good a remedy as any.
I hadn’t thought of Frownies in a very long time.
Years ago, I had dinner with my friend Chris, who’d just returned from a wedding in Western Pennsylvania. I assumed he’d want to tell me all about the blessed event, but it was clear there was something far more important on his mind than a declaration of eternal love in front of God and a room full of people who bought expensive presents.
Instead, he wanted to know if I’d ever been to a Kings Family Restaurant. I assured him that I’d never even heard of such a place and wondered aloud why he would ask such a question because I found myself confused about the direction in which our conversation was headed.
“Why? Because it’s the home of The Frownie!” he blurted out with a surprisingly girlish giggle.
"The what?" I asked almost reflexively, though the name seemed to illustrate itself with near-perfect precision.
"A Frownie is a brownie, but with a frownie face piped onto it. Do you know what they call it if you order a whole platter of them?” The grin on his face provided an odd counterpoint to the subject matter that did not go unnoticed.
I confessed my ignorance.
“A Pity Party!”
I’m almost certain I stopped listening after that because I was too taken by the idea of a plate full of miserable looking treats to concentrate on anything else. Chris definitely knew his audience. And I knew I definitely needed to do a bit of research on The Frownie.
I learned that the Frownie was invented nearly twenty years ago to drum up business for Kings Family Restaurants, which had been flagging in recent years. Thanks to Smith Brothers Advertising, who made the likes of other Pittsburgh-area brands like Heinz Tomato Ketchup sexy, The Frownie caught on.
It makes sense that this irritable confection originated near Pittsburgh, which is home to Carnegie Mellon University—birthplace of the emoticon. It was there that Dr. Scott Fahlman published both the first smiley face and frownie face symbols in the same text to a departmental message board on the 19th of September, 1982.
It was only a matter of time before someone in the general vicinity piped two blank eyes and a sullen mouth onto a dessert.
Where I attended culinary school, plating foods in such a way as to resemble a human face was frowned upon— the thought being that no one wanted to dig into something that resembled one's own self. Clearly, they were mistaken. Of course, they were mistaken about so many things over the years that the school no longer exists., so I’m not surprised. Children are undeniably attracted to the cannibalization of smiley-faced pancakes, so who can say eating a scowling brownie is wrong?
Imagine living through a Northeastern American winter. If I had to spend months freezing my ass off battling the elements, I might find myself entering a local family restaurant and sitting down to a hearty meal with a bottomless mug of hot coffee to warm my hands and insides. If a dessert happened to come to the table with a look of vague despair frosted onto its face, I'm sure I’d take long swig of my beverage, look out the window at my iced-over car and think, “Frownie, I know just how you feel.” before going to town on it.
Sixteen years ago, I thought this locally famous treat was just a bit of absurd, frivolous fun. I wrote about it, then promptly forgot about it.
Last week, my brain decided The Frownie was worth remembering again and the memory could not have returned at a better time. When overwhelmed by difficult-to-sort-out feelings you can’t find the words to describe, expressing yourself with powdered sugar icing on a chocolate canvas is a remarkably therapeutic exercise. It’s literally putting a face to your feelings and then eating them and I highly recommend it.
Now that I think of it, why limit yourself to icing on brownies? Draw an expression of unnameable terror onto a pan of macaroni and cheese with sriracha. Dribble a stream of syrupy tears over a stack of Mickey Mouse pancakes. If you find yourself exceptionally skilled, try conveying a look of confused arousal by piping whole fat yogurt onto any surface that inspires you.
I don’t care which pipe-able condiment you choose or what emotion you need to express as long as you try this rather unique form of kitchen therapy.
And if turning brownies into Frownies is the right choice for you, you may as well use Katharine Hepburn’s recipe— it’s about as good as any out there. Not necessarily the best, but I am frankly too exhausted by the world to go in search of absolute perfection.
Katharine Hepburn’s Frownies
As you gather the ingredients for this recipe, it’s helpful to imagine an imperious, irritated Miss Hepburn barking out phrases like “Don’t over bake them!”, “You’re using too much flour!”, and “For God’s sake, pull yourself together!”
Makes 9 brownies ready for emotional transference.
Ingredients:
For the brownies:
• 1//2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, plus more for greasing
• 2 ounces unsweetened chocolate
• 1 cup sugar
• 2 eggs, beaten
• ½ teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 cup roughly chopped walnuts
• ¼ cup flour
• ¼ teaspoon kosher salt
For the icing:
• ½ cup powdered sugar
• 1 tablespoon water
Preparation:
Heat oven to 325°. Grease an 8 x 8 inch baking pan with butter. Line the pan with parchment paper. Grease the paper with butter and set pan aside.
Melt 1 stick of butter and the chocolate together in a 2-quart saucepan over low heat, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon (I cannot imagine Miss Hepburn using anything else.) Remove the pan from the heat and stir in the sugar. Add the eggs one at a time and beat into the chocolate mixture until well absorbed. Add vanilla and stir until you have a smooth batter.
Add the walnuts, flour, and salt. Stir until fully incorporated. Pour batter into the baking pan and spread evenly. Bake on the center rack of your oven until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean: about 40-45 minutes. Let cool on a rack placed on a counter out of the reach of dogs and small children. Remove from pan and cut into nine squares.
Mix the powdered sugar and water in a small bowl, making a smooth, thick icing. Place icing into a piping bag fitted with a fine, plain tip, or place in a zip-lock bag, cutting a very small amount off one of the bottom corners with scissors. Pipe two blank, disappointed-looking eyes and a frown onto each brownie. Other emotions to be conveyed as needed.
Serve. Preferably to yourself, since you’re the one who really needs them.
Feel strangely better.
"For God's Sake! Pull yourself together!" is my new battlecall for the days ahead. But I may try piping a frownie on an espresso martini. Thank you Michael for this inspiration! ❤️
I don’t know who’s upsetting you but I’m more than willing to go punch them in the tummy (not the face! Not the face!) (((Michael)))