I am a little irked. Okay, maybe a lot irked. That was four batches of fudge down the drain. I wasted tons of ingredients and time on this stuff. And I still have a craving for it!
Batch number one:
I start out eager, hopeful and blushingly optimistic. I get out my nice heavy-bottomed pot and my new spatula (able to withstand the heat of the sun! Yerrrow!). I even take the time to calibrate my dial candy thermometer in some boiling water, with which I later make strawberry tea. I sip my tea and then:
Melt four ounces of unsweetened chocolate in one-and-a-quarter cups skim milk over medium heat. Add three cups of sugar and two tablespoons of corn syrup, turn the heat to high.
Wow! That sure was quick. The temperature soared to 236 degrees Fahrenheit right away. I pulled the pot from the heat and placed it in an icewater bath. Belatedly I add half a stick of butter. I kept an eye on the temperature, and when it lowered to 115, I put my spatula in the mixture and stirred.
Soup. I had made soup. Okay, I have faced failure before in many guises, I will just have to try again. I poured the stuff down the drain.
Batch number two:
I bought another thermometer. I like this one, it’s a glass tube like my mother always used. In fact, I had one just like it, but it broke after cooling down from a batch of divinity. The divinity turned out…divine…so I thought this kind of thermometer would be better.
A little less optimistic this time, a little more determined, I take out another heavy-bottomed pan and use my less favorite blue plastic spoon. I test the thermometer on another pan of boiling water and make chai with the water. I sip the tea, and then:
Melt four ounces of unsweetened chocolate in one-and-a-quarter cups skim milk over medium heat. Add three cups of sugar and two tablespoons of corn syrup, turn the heat to high.
Okay, it’s taking a little longer this time. That’s good, very good. Oh, what’s that smell? Gosh, I hope it’s not burning! Off the stove, into the icewater, time to cool. Promptly added the butter this time. Damn, the chai is cold. Tastes good anyway.
115 degrees, add the half teaspoon vanilla, use a hand mixer to beat it. Seems…sticky. Maybe it will set up in the refrigerator.
It set. It’s caramel. Why the hell is it caramel? Maybe I didn’t cook it to the right temperature. The internet says that caramel begins at 145 degrees.
I don’t want caramel, I want fudge. I am going to make fudge, damnit!
Batch number three:
Okay, scrap that stupid recipe. Scrap that awful caramel. I’m going to do it the old fashioned way, with chocolate chips and condensed milk, which means another trip to the grocery store. I think I’ll try bourbon fudge this time, I really liked it when I bought it at that cute little fudge shop in Madison.
Put two cups of chocolate chips in a bowl with a can of condensed milk. Condensed milk is Borden, chips are Ghirardelli! What could go wrong with Ghirardelli chips, mmm! Microwave three minutes, stir, add a quarter cup of bourbon and a half teaspoon of orange extract. Huh, the liquid is sitting on top of the chocolate stuff. Guess I’ll just have to stir more. Pour it over nuts in a buttered pan. Into the refrigerator with you, you tasty stuff!
Two hours later, and it’s a messy goop. Two hours after that and the goop hasn’t changed. It’s sitting there, staring at me, saying that it used to be Ghirardelli before I did such horrible things to it.
Into the trash bin with you, you horrible goop.
Batch number four:
Maybe I’ve made a mistake. Maybe the original recipe wasn’t all that bad. Maybe I’m the one who is faulty. I can change, just give me a chance!
I’ve got four thermometers. I take them all out and set them in a row, and boil some water. Each registers between 210 and 215 degrees. I use the water to make some black tea and think furiously. I calm my mounting hysteria and set to work.
I use the same recipe and measure precisely. Three cups of sugar and not a grain more. One and a quarter cups of milk, and not a drop more. I use all the instruments to check the temperature, and when they register between 235 and 240 I take the pot off the stove and set it in a sink of cool water (maybe the icewater was too shocking for the poor fragile stuff). The butter goes in right away. I use the paddle on my KitchenAid mixer (bringing out the big guns!) to mix it for about four minutes.
I pour it in the pan. It looks like caramel to me. I avert my eyes, say a good luck charm, and gently place the pan into the bottom of my refrigerator, where it will cool undisturbed over the crisper drawer. I throw out my tea, which has gotten cold and gross.
Four hours later. Caramel. Better tasting caramel than last time, but still caramel.
AND I STILL WANT FUDGE!!!
Into the bin it goes, and yours truly heads for the couch, where she flops down and pouts until she decides to ask her doper friends where she went wrong.
Help? Please? I can’t go through life like this, knowing I’ve failed where many others have blithely succeeded.