Mother's Secret Stash Bars

Today I found myself baking.

"This is not news," you say.

I know, but this time it was not a pre-meditated endeavor. Here's what happened:

I got a craving for chocolate and went searching for chocolate chips in the baking cupboard. Lo, there were none to be found. But all was not lost. Suddenly, I remembered my mother's secret cabinet, the one where she ferrets away sweets and things she doesn't want to share just yet.

Inside, I found a tin of weird chocolates that looked older than me. Fortunately I also found a bag of these:

 

"Aha!" I cried, triumphant.

But then my conscience struck me. After all, these aren't technically mine. I mean, Mother never put an "Offspring Keep Out" sign on the cupboard door, but they are hidden for a reason.

After a long argument with myself, we all agreed that it would be best if, instead of either eating them all or putting them back untouched, I would use them in a recipe, to share the wealth. This way, I figured no one would mind that I'd found the secret stash.

Within minutes, I found myself whisking together a little sugar, a lot of butter, some flour, and a few other ingredients to create a base, rather like blonde brownies.

After spreading the lot in an 8x8 pan, I added the peanut butter cups, which I had roughly chopped into halves and quarters. 

45 minutes later, this deliciousness appeared out of the oven:

Tasty treats, indeed! Warm, buttery, and extremely rich. You're welcome, family. 

And thus, Mother's Secret Stash Bars were made.

I made the recipe look all nice and pretty for you. Go me.