Fudge Addict

When it comes to addictions (drugs, porn, farmers), you really have to be 100% disgusted with yourself before you can move on.  I know because that’s how it is for me every holiday season with fudge. 

I make two kinds: chocolate fudge and a sort of buttery, penuche-like fudge with pecans.  Then, I spend the remainder of the year trying to decide which I like better.  I can’t seem to break the horrible chain of events.  I make the fudge.  I eat the fudge.  I make fudge to give to someone else.  But, then I end up eating it.  So, I have to make more.  Which I then eat. 

So, that’s where I am at this point.  Thoroughly.  Completely.  Disgusted.

Send help.

 

Boston Cream Candy

You need a candy thermometer for this one.  Also, I hope you like stirring, because there’s going to be a lot of that.  A lot.  Furthermore, if you live at high altitudes, you’ll need to consult someone smarter than me to figure out how to adjust the temperature.  Or just hold off until you move to sea level.  It’s awesome down here.

4 Tbsp. unsalted butter, plus more for the pan
2/3 cup chopped pecan pieces
¾ tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. vanilla extract
2 cups sugar
Pinch salt
½ cup light corn syrup
¼ cup half-and-half
¼ cup heavy cream

Butter an 8x8-inch baking pan.  Line the pan with enough parchment paper to hang over the sides.  Butter the paper, too, which will help it stick to the pan.  Have your pecans, baking soda, and vanilla all measured out and ready in their own little bowls by the stove.  Also, have your oven mitts and candy thermometer within arm’s reach.

In a heavy-based 3 qt. saucepan, combine the butter, sugar, salt, corn syrup, half-and-half, and cream.  Stir with a wooden spoon over low heat until all of the sugar is dissolved.  It takes a while and you can’t really tell by looking at it.  The best thing to do is drag your finger along the spoon and rub the mixture between your fingers.  Yes, it’s hot.  Listen, no one said addiction was going to be easy.  If there’s any graininess at all, keep stirring until it’s gone.

Once the sugar is dissolved, turn the heat to medium and cook, stirring, until the mixture foams to a boil.  Add the baking soda.  Lower the heat and stir like mad.  Your oven mitts are right there if you need them.  The mixture will double in volume, and then gradually subside and take on a golden hue.  At this point, hook your candy thermometer onto the pot.  Stir over medium-low heat until the temperature just registers 240°F.  It takes a while and will hover at 239°F before jumping up, so pay close attention.  You must remove the pot from the heat before it passes 240°F.

Okay, so with the pot off the heat, you can take out the candy thermometer so it doesn’t keep getting in the way of the stirring.  Which you need to keep doing, fast.  What you have will look like loose caramel sauce.  Add the vanilla and stir carefully (it may spit).  Add the pecans and continue stirring quickly.  Now, you really have to pay attention, again.  Keep stirring.  I’m serious, if you stop, you’re screwed.  You’ll notice that it seems to be getting thicker and lighter.  Then, it will start to make this squeaky, sticky candy sound.  I don’t know how else to describe it.  You’ll know it when you hear it.  When the spoon starts making a path on the bottom of the pot, you’re almost there.  Yes, keep stirring.

The moment you notice that the mixture is starting to lose its gloss and turn kind of matte, start pouring into your buttered baking dish.  You’ll have about 15 seconds to debate this with yourself.  If you wait too long to pour, the mixture will get too dry or, worse, harden in the pot.  If you stop stirring too soon, it might not solidify at all, so then you’ll have the best caramel sauce ever, but no fudge.  So, go ahead, make a decision.  I’m sure I’ll hear all about it in the comment section.  Let cool until fudge-like (you can refrigerate it), and cut into squares.

Die and go, hopefully, to heaven (or whatever other plans you might have for the afterlife).

Source: Fine Cooking, from an article written by Kay Fahey.

Comments

[joey]

send fudge

[Tammy]

Joey: Fudge made. And eaten.

Any other ideas?

[joey]

No... But look on the bright side. It didn't involve squash of any kind

[Tammy]

Wait a minute. Can you make fudge out of squash???

[Linda]

I'm a fudge junky as well. Somehow I managed not to make any this year. Mainly because I can't find all of the ingredients easily, not to mention cheaply. Next time, mail some to me. I'm always available for fudge.

[Mom]

You... you mean you ate my fudge?
*snif*
Mom

[Tammy]

Mom: Yes. But, I had an epiphany last night. I'll just bring the ingredients to your house and make it there. Then, you can handcuff me to your largest piece of furniture while I watch you eat it. Weeping.

Linda: When I said help, I meant everyone should send ME more fudge.

[Fudge Packager]

I desperately want to make a joke re: fudge and its packing. Is that offensive?

[Mary]

I'm like that with cookies. It's terrible.

[chiffOnade]

Personally, I do not find this recipe interesting at all. Of course, I am a PROFESSIONAL CHEF educated at Peter Kumps Culinary Institute in New York City (where I was born and raised).

I would submit that a person of my educational background does NOT eat peecans as those southern people do (look how obese they are!).

I'm a 50-year old Italian immigrant (my mother was a factory worker in Brooklyn, my father was a milkman until he ran off with a floozie and deserted us).

I have a "hour-glass" figure and my current boyfriend called "THE MANAGER" (he is SOOoo good to me, after four men used my body and then divorced me).

My daughter is in prison (for drugs, you understand), but when she gets out, I am going back to Brooklyn, New York.

[Ash]

Oh yum. Fudge. Now I know why I didn't make any.

[Tammy]

Ash: Until they make condoms for fudge, abstinence really is the best policy.

ChiffOnade: It's certainly not interesting compared to the story you just told. Good luck with THE MANAGER. Looks like you found yourself a keeper!

Mary: Terrible and awesome at the same time.

Fudge Packer: It's okay. I just told the Internet to cover its eyes.

[Almost Vegetarian]

I so went through this years ago with truffles and a recipe that said they tasted best when made a month in advance. And, of course, I had to taste and ...

Surely there must be a 12-step program somewhere.

Cheers!

[Ann]

I love penuche, love this post and love all of the comments. I just frightened my family by snorting VERY loudly in the middle of an unseemly giggle.

Oh yeah, nice photo!

[Bri]

I swear Tammy, you crack me up. My husband and I just made over 100 truffles in a variety of flavors as X-mas presents. I had a taste here and a taste there, and frankly, I am so sick of chocolate at this point, a good deal of truffles are in the fridge asking to be eaten or given away...SOMETHING useful. They are really tasty, but I OD'd. I think I'd get that way with fudge too, so, I can't really relate. So, I'll just sit here smugly while you suffer through your 12 steps of fudge addiction. ;)

[Joanna]

I, like you, am a prisoner of something very similar to penuche: homemade pralines. They are made pretty much exactly the same way as penuche, but dropped into patties to harden instead of a pan and cut into squares, like penuche. I finish them off with a sprinkling of fleur de sel or some other great sea salt, which makes them even more crack-like and f-ing impossible to stop eating. Mercifully, I just gave away the last of it. It was KILLING me. How can something so bad be so good, or vice-versa?

And yes, you can indeed make fudge out of squash. Check it out: http://sugarsavvy.net/2006/11/15/pumpkin-pie-fudge/

[Ann]

Oh, um... can I have that penuche recipe?

[Jerry]

I agree with others - don't be selfish . . . share the penuche recipe! Apparently I require another addiction in my life.

[Tammy]

Jerry and Ann: I knew somebody was going to ask me that. It's dangerous information, but I'll see what I can do.

Joanna: I can only imagine the self-destruction that would take place if even a single grain of fleur de sel landed on my penuche. And now I can think of nothing else. We are soul sisters.

Bri: I don't know how you have such strength of character. I can't rest knowing that anything like that is in the house.

Almost Vegetarian: Did you make it to a month? That's like 5 lifetimes in fudge years.

[Barry Foy]

To backtrack a little to the squash fudge idea, the cooks of India attended to that one long ago, creating a sweet that's now a well-established part of their repertoire. Here's a recipe for pumpkin halvah, chosen at random from the Web: http://cardamomaddict.blogspot.com/2005/10/it-doesnt-take-guts-to-do-this.html