Lavish office parties are out this year, with the economy what it is, and our office is no exception.

At our last group meeting the manager announced that our annual holiday party would consist of a carry-in. Without fanfare, a sign-up sheet appeared out of nowhere with page headings labeled appetizers, salads, main courses and desserts.

As the sheet made its way towards me the music from the sound-tract for "Jaws" played in my head.

"No store bought," the party organizer said as she waged her pointer finger at us all, admonishing us on how much fun this was going to be.

Blame it on the microwave, but I've lost all my instincts when it comes to cooking.

When the sign up sheet got to me I scanned the open categories and my eyes fell on "brownies." A sense of calm swept over me. How hard could brownies be?

When the meeting was over the carry-in assignments got posted on the bulletin board in the lunchroom. I noticed my friend Therese checking out the list to see who was bringing what. Suddenly she made a bee line over to me.

"I know every variety of store bought brownies, Mister," Therese said, "don't you even think of cheating."

Uh oh.

And the brownies would have been no problem, if:

a) my wife had been in town

b) I had shopped earlier than the night before, or

c) I had cheated and gone with the store made.

Anyway, the night before the party I headed to the grocery store. And there I found choices and more choices. So I camped out in the cake mix aisle and read the back of each of the leading brownie mix makers. I even checked out the store brand generic. In the end I went with the Cadillac of brownies - the Duncan Hines.

I needed eggs - easy. Just pick a size. I went with large. I needed cooking oil. Not so easy. I have no body of knowledge concerning cooking oil. I don't know the pros and cons. Olive, peanut, corn - oh my. Heart healthy or tasty - which?

Wesson screamed out as the brand I could picture in the pantry of my childhood. I went with Wesson.

Then I headed home where it occurred to me, did we have the correct size baking pan?

I knew the pan was going to be a critical ingredient - the right sized cooking pan. But nowhere in the instructions did it mention what size pan to use. I read, then reread the instructions. I pulled out every pan in the kitchen and started eyeballing them for size. Just like the cooking oil, I would go with instinct.

Of course it turned out the pan size was in large lettering on the front of the package. And the 9X12 size called for was one we didn't have. In fact, all of the baking pans I could find seemed pretty beat up. It turns out I was looking in the wrong spot. That, however, did not stop me from going to the mini mart to purchase a disposable foil pan.

Bad idea. Wrong size. Thin material.

I must say the stirring went well.

I knew better than to peek - "don't open that oven door," I said to myself.

But for lack of a toothpick, much was lost. Because once the timer said done - well they just didn't look done. I popped those brownies in and out of that oven a have dozen times. Everytime I cut a tiny tasting sample my knife poked through the disposable foil pan.

I compared my brownies to the picture on the Duncan Hines package. They seemed to be distant cousins at best.

I skipped the party but sent the brownies.

My friend Therese, however, told me she loved the brownies.

"Really?"

"I loved the nuts in them," she said, inquiring what kind I had used.

But I'm not telling. Good cooks keep their secrets. And my secret is that my brownies were decidedly plain.