Leftover chocolate sauce?

Tonight, I made this amazing thing, the cookie-brown-ganache combo masterpiece, for a dinner party I’m going to Friday night. Doesn’t that sound mature and ladylike? Me, the Creature from Public Schools and Regional College, is going to a dinner party (please say that in a snotty accent) in Owasso (that too).

It’s a potluck-kinda deal and I signed up to make green beans and dessert. Green beans are my safety dish. It’s the first thing I ever learned to cook, thanks to my mom’s penchant for making them with every meal. We never complained. They were heavenly. She once told me mine were as good as my Nana’s. That’s the best fucking compliment I’ve ever received. So much that yes, it did need that Eff-bomb.

But I didn’t measure the stuff to make ganache for the top of the brownie-cookie mutant thingee, and I used the German chocolate that  my sainted and wonderful flight-attendant stepmother brings me from Germany and regular crap American chocolate too. So I ended up with an inordinate amount of chocolate sauce/ganache that I hope sets up into some sort of icing-like structure before tomorrow’s swanky meal.

If not, we’ll be havin’ soupy cookie-stuff. But really, how bad could that be?

One weird thing: There’s leftover chocolate sauce, which I thought was like unicorns, not real but really, really desired. And I’m too full from hot and sour soup night Part 2 to eat any of it. Plus, I’m kind of always on a diet, so doing shots of chocolate sauce doesn’t seem like the best idea.

But the night is young.