Best Shared: Peanut Butter Oatmeal Fudgie Bars

The memory is incredibly vivid.  I am at Friendly's, after my first seventh grade dance.  I am going to a sleepover party at a girl's house afterwards, which is the only reason I am here; I would never have been invited to a mixed-gender gathering with the boys who are with us.  Part of me isn't sure why I was invited to the sleepover party, either, because the girl who is hosting isn't very friendly towards me.  Maybe her mother made her invite me?  Everyone around me is chatting and laughing and making jokes, but my nose is buried in the menu.  I'm trying to figure out what I should order with the five dollars my mom had given me (this is a small fortune in my world), and I'm trying to blend in to the booth so that no one will notice that I am here.  I want to be here, among these incredibly cool people, and pretend, for once, that I'm like them, too, but I am also desperately afraid that someone will suddenly realize that I'm in the wrong place

I order a Reeses Pieces sundae.  It comes, and it's enormous, but it's a good way to hide and keep my mouth shut, ignoring the laughter and joking around me.  I turn inward, and slowly, methodically, I eat the whole thing.  I don't remember the car ride back, but I do remember feeling incredibly sick, all night long, in that girl's house, where the air was thick with her mother's cigarette smoke.  It was all just too much.

For some people, Reeses Pieces are forever associated with E.T.; for me, even now, I can't eat Reeses Pieces without thinking about that sundae, and that dance, and the seventh grade year, and the childhood loneliness that I hated so much.

But I love chocolate and peanut butter.  I can eat it from a spoon or a chopstick.  And luckily, I am no longer trying to fit into that crowd.  What I know now is that things like enormous Reeses Pieces sundaes are best shared, and that we're all, in some small way, the person hiding behind the menu and the sundae.

Make these for someone you love, or for someone you've just met and want to get to know better.

(And tell us: what are the taste-triggered memories that still return to you today?)

Peanut Butter Oatmeal Fudgie Bars

1/2 c. + 2 T. unsalted butter, softened
1 c. packed brown sugar
1 egg
1 t. vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 t. baking soda
1/2 t. kosher salt
1 1/2 c. old-fashioned rolled oats
1 14-oz can sweetened condensed milk
12 oz. semisweet (or bittersweet) chocolate chips
2/3 c. creamy peanut butter
1 t. vanilla extract
Reese's pieces, for the topping

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Line a 9-inch square baking pan with foil, leaving an overhang on 2 sides.

In the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream 1/2 cup of the butter with the sugar until well-combined. Add the egg and vanilla, and mix well. Turn off the mixer, add the dry ingredient (flour through oats), and mix at low speed until just combined.

Press two-thirds of the oatmeal mixture into the bottom of the pan, and set aside the rest for the topping.

In a medium saucepan, combine the remaining 2 tablespoons of butter, condensed milk, chocolate chips, and peanut butter. Cook over medium heat until the chocolate and butter are melted, stirring often. Remove from heat and stir in the vanilla. Spread most of the chocolate fudge mixture over the oatmeal layer, using a spatula to spread evenly. Save the remainder for hot fudge sauce, or use it all for a thicker layer.

Crumble the remaining oatmeal mixture over the fudge, then sprinkle with the candy.

Bake 15-20 minutes, until the topping is starting to brown. They won't seem cooked all the way through yet at this point. Allow to cool to room temperature, then refrigerate for at least 4 hours to set completely. Cut into squares and serve, or store at room temperature.