Cleary, this is not a muffin

That questionable pile of chocolate something started out as Alton Brown's ever so rich and sinfully easy Chocolate Lava Muffins, until I began tinkering (the recipe can be found at http://www.foodnetwork.com/food/recipes/recipe/0,,FOOD_9936_21729,00.html ). Obviously, when we start messing with things, things do not always turn out how we expect.

On a lazy Sunday afternoon, when the sun is filtering through the blinds and one is curled up on the couch, halfway through a Dorothy L. Sayers novel, it's natural that one might desire a little chocolately treat. However, in such a languid state of mind, one might also crave ease. Mr. Brown's muffins seemed a natural choice. I've made them before with great success. They take no time at all and create a bare minimum of dirty dishes. As I began to melt my Scharffen Berger bittersweet, I remembered a jar of wonderful raspberry jam in my fridge. "Ah-ha!" I thought, what could better complement rich chocolate better than tangy raspberry? This was my first mistake. When filling the muffin tins, I added a blop of jam to each, expecting that the gooey chocolate interior would now contain a fruity surprise.

Also, I baked them for a minute less than when I last made the muffins, hoping to ensure maximum lava-ness. This was my second mistake. When they came out of the oven, I noticed that jam had bubbled up around the edge of each muffin. I began to suspect that something was wrong. In my worry, I only let them sit for a minute or two before trying to unmold them, desperate to see how they'd turned out. This was my third mistake. Instead of neat, firm muffins with a fruity, gooey treat inside, I had a heap of chocolate disaster.

Turns out, the jam layer prevented the top and bottom of the muffin from sealing together. The center was very liquid, probably as a result of jam and slight undercooking. At first, I felt defeated. What an ugly mess, I thought, what a waste. Before I throw them away, maybe just a taste. Revelation! This was so much more than a muffin.

My spoon was filled with chunks of warm, dense cake and velvety chocolate custard streaked with tangy raspberry. The shape was wrong but the taste was oh so right. So I dished some of it up on a plate and added a little scoop of ice cream and relished every unattractive bite.

Next time, I'll bake it in ramekins to skip the folly of unmolding, top them with a dollop of creme fraiche and call them Bittersweet Chocolate and Raspberry Custard Cakes. Sometimes things not turning out as we expect can be the mother of invention.