I was four seasons into watching Game of Thrones before I finally had the nerve to admit to Michael I had no idea what the fuck was going on.
So many beards. So many heads on pikes. All the boobs and scullery maids and stone walls. None of it makes sense to me. I feel like HBO forgot to air one of the seasons and just decided to see if anyone would speak up about it.
Every so often Peter Dinklage would say something snarky, or a dragon would fly by, and for a moment I’d be back on board and really proud of myself for keeping up. But it wouldn’t be long before a man with long hair would start growling next to a fireplace about crossing some giant sea and getting revenge against some other flea-ridden Jack Black look-a-like who may or may not still have his penis, and suddenly my head would drop forward like someone yanked my cervical vertebrae right out the back of my neck.
I still have no idea how many fucking Stark children there are. I know there’s the sourpuss red head, the butch one, the paralyzed one, the half-breed. And I feel like there are two younger ones — a Bobby and Cindy Stark — stashed away someplace, deep under the roots of some thousand year old talking tree, cowering in fear because some evil warlord needs to find them and eat their livers so he can take over Gallipoli.
For me, Game of Thrones was over once and for all when the show killed off that bratty little inbred king who liked to stomp around and scream and kill people when they irritated him in the slightest. Was I the only one who liked that kid? I felt he was very relatable.
So now, Michael is in the den watching Sunday night’s episode while I make cheesecake marbled brownies for work tomorrow. I could hear the show from the kitchen, and as I dropped the pans into the oven I said to myself, “I bet pretty soon someone’s gonna be bitching about taking back Castle Black,” and sure enough I was right! I don’t even know which one Castle Black is. I looked it up once on the Game of Thrones wiki, and this is what it said: “Castle Black is one of only three mannered castles left on the Wall along with Eastwatch-by-the-Sea and The Shadow Tower. It has a sept but no Godswood. Those who are followers must travel into the Haunted Forest to take their vows before a heart tree.” It’s like calculus for hobbit nerds. I’m turning my Sunday nights back over to baking. Follow me to the brownies, and leave your dire wolf at the door.
Cheesecake Marbled Browines
- 1 stick (1/2 cup or 4 ounces) unsalted butter, cut into pieces
- 3 ounces unsweetened chocolate, chopped
- 1 cup sugar
- 2 large eggs
- 1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 2/3 cup all-purpose flour
- pinch of salt
For the cheesecake batter…
- 8 ounces cream cheese, well softened
- 1/3 cup sugar
- 1 large egg yolk
- 1/4 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 1/2 cup semisweet chocolate chips or dark chocolate chunks to top the combined batter once mixed
Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees F.
Place the chopped chocolate and the butter into a pan and simmer, stirring regularly to keep it from burning.
Once melted, remove from the stove, and whisk in the eggs, vanilla, salt and sugar. Once combined, whisk in the flour and once combined again, pour into a well-greased 8″ by 8″ pan.
Over to the cheesecake batter. Whisk together all the cheesecake ingredients until well-combined. THE CREAM CHEESE MUST BE VERY SOFTENED or it will just stick to the whisk in giant clumps and go absolutely nowhere. Once combined… the real fun begins!
Bring them both together.
Use a small butter knife to blend the two together and achieve the marbled look that makes these puppies so much fun to take pictures of. Then, top them off with your chocolate chips or dark chocolate chunks. Cook for 30-35 minutes. I used the standard “dipping in a toothpick” method to see when they were done. Just a tiny touch of batter coming out on the toothpick is when I pull them out to cool.