Every year for my father's birthday I make him date bars from the recipe my grandma used when he was a kid. Every year, for nearly his whole life he's gotten date bars - there was a brief stint where my grandpa made them after my grandma died, but he forgot one year and my mom got a little miffed about it and the next time I saw my grandpa he handed me the recipe. I got the message. So anyway, I'll be seeing him on Sunday for his birthday dinner and I made the date bars Friday after work. Except that what really happened was that I made him fig bars. i know. The whole time I was making them I felt like something wasn't quite right, but I just kept going. This morning my eyes flew open at 7am and I realized THOSE WERE FIGS!
and the stupid thing is that i TOTALLY know the difference between a fig and a date - but I think I just had it in my mind that I bought a pound of dried dates and I couldn't shake it. This morning I dug in the trash can and found the wrapper and it did indeed say "figs" - it wasn't even like I needed to confirm it because, again, I totally know the difference. duh. So this morning I made Date Bars 2.0 after making a run to Meijer to get the right stuff. I'm going to give him both versions because it's not like the figgie bars are bad - just not date bars!