Cooking 9/10ths of the time

So FUDGEY! Fudgey bickies, aren't they great (that's rhetorical, they are great. Thus no question mark). Or fudgey cookies, they are good too. I've been thinking about them lately. I had decided to make a batch for a friend as she was about to have a nasty piece of news broken to her. By me. So I thought that I'd soften the blow with lots of dark chocolate and a sort of lovely soft gooey centre. It didn't actually end up working like that, as I didn't manage to get my shit together for the cookies to be done in time and I told her the news on skype, thus letting her suffer by herself, at home. I did buy a piece of flourless cake for her when I saw her tho. Also the piece of news was about some data storage at work, not that I had inadvertently killed one of her children or erased her entire weird and ear-crushing music collection. But, the other day, unbidden, the need to make the cookies bubbled up in me much like a laugh. Like a child's laugh. Also

This post is dedicated to Wayne - who on hearing what I was cooking, supplied the title of the post. Thank you Wayne. For my American friends who read this blog - a "root" is a delightful colloquialism for sexual intercourse in Australia. So you see the post title is a kind of sophisticated reworking of the word beetroot. It should be noted that this post differs vastly from all my previous posts in that I have included obvious lowest common denominator ribaldry and because it is about a vegetable. GAH! Hideous! I have been hankering for beetroot, for reasons known only to my body. So when I saw that snarly pair at the supermarket I bought them.  Then they sat on the bench in the kitchen for a few days whilst I pondered them. The only thing that I really know to do with beetroots is include them in cake or make them into carpaccio. I was definitely wanting savoury, so carpaccio it was.  Beetroots are ugly, they are messy and they are slip