Food Promises

A friend came and over and taught us how to make REAL fudge.  Not having been taught by my grandmother, I've not had much success.  My friend grew up in a remote area of northern Alberta where if you wanted candy, you made it.  And she wanted candy. So she made it.  And she learned to do it well.

We got everything boiling until a bit dropped in cold water rolled up into a soft, pliable ball.  We whipped it over to a sink of cold water to cool.  After the pan was just warm, we started beating.  It was smooth and syrupy at first.

We kept beating and stirring and slowly the string off the spoon got thicker.  The surface stayed glossy, but as it got thicker and more difficult to stir, the surface developed a velvety look.  She told us to watch closely, because we needed to catch it just before it was ready to go solid.  We kept stirring, looking at the string off the spoon until it was good and thick.  One last beat and we poured it out on a buttered counter.

As it poured out, she lamented that we had poured too early; it was spreading out too much.  I thought it looked pretty dang good.  After fifteen minutes of cooling, we cut it into squares and tried it.

Oohhhhh... Wow! This is not only the best fudge I've ever made, it's possibly the best fudge I've ever had.  Of course, it has Christina butter and cream.  It is smooth, rich, and the flavor runs deep.  The kids think it's a little dark, which makes my husband and I like it better.  But they still finished it in one sitting.

My friend said she'd come back and teach us to make taffy.  We can't wait!

Those seeds I planted last week have germinated.  Praise God!  They look so good.  In fact, some of the lettuce germinated at a higher rate than I expected and are too full.  Step 1, germination.  Check.  On to step 2, get them past the tiny stage without getting all leggy. 

My friend said that her mother had greens growing under a bank of lights all winter long.  It would be -40º outside and they'd be eating greens.  I think her mother had the right idea.  This flat is a promise of salad at the end of February.  In the meantime, we go without.