I generally make brownies from scratch, but when I saw a box of Kodiak Cakes whole-wheat brownie mix on my local grocer's shelf, I was intrigued enough to take it home and try it. With all the brownie baking I do, I've never thought of going whole grain.

I think it's because I have a simple, straightforward philosophy when it comes to brownies: I know very well that there is no good reason for me to be eating them. At least not in terms of my physical health. My emotional well-being is what's being addressed when I sink my teeth happily into a warm, gooey mass of butter, chocolate, and a minimum of flour.

It's not even like eating a bar of high-quality, very dark chocolate. There, it might at least be argued that I am in fact taking in some usable antioxidants, just as I am when I sip a cup of tea or eat fresh fruits and vegetables.

But even I, who am willing to rationalize just about anything I really really want to do, can't take the syllogism "chocolate is good for you, and brownies have chocolate in them; therefore brownies must be good for you" seriously. Brownies are about having something to look forward to after a long hard day of work.

Still -- if one is going to eat them, and I obviously am, why not try to whip a little nutritional value in?

Well, the first reason is simple. My own favorite brownie recipe calls for a bare quarter-cup of flour, and it makes twelve brownies. One quarter cup divided by twelve makes almost no discernible fiber content that I can find.

Which leads naturally to my second argument for thinking twice about using whole-grain flours in brownies. Even if you're using just a little flour, whole grains have a stronger flavor than plain white flour does. The only flavor I really seek in my brownies is the taste of chocolate. I don't want grain competing with cacao for attention in this setting.

Whole-grain flours also have distinctive textures and behaviors -- as opposed to white flour, especially cake flour, which tends to disappear gracefully into the background. I love baking with oat and whole-wheat flour; but oat flour hates to rise even a little, and wheat flour worth the name has a flakey grain to it. Wonderful in muffins, pancakes, and breads, but not necessarily what you want from a brownie.

Quite aside from all this, there's the fact that people -- myself included -- are all too willing to say that if a food is good for you, or even sort of good for you, it must be okay to have as much as you want. It's hard enough to say no to brownies as it is. You don't want them to be able to argue, "But I'm a whole-grain product! You're supposed to be eating more of those, remember?"

And after all that: I loved the Kodiak Cakes whole-wheat brownies. They have chocolate chips in the batter, and my son was delighted that you could feel and taste them when you bit into one -- they didn't just melt away in the baking process. I loved the fact that for the first few minutes the brownies were baking, our apartment smelled like warm toast.

These brownies are more cakey than fudgy, so the flour was a definite presence. And you know what? It worked. The chocolate wasn't fighting with the wheaty flavor; it embraced it.

Which makes me think that I'm going to have to do a little more thinking about whole grains and brownie baking. And a lot of experimenting.