Andie and I decided to try to attempt mother’s Peanut Butter Fudge.
Fudge attempts so far:
Zip. Zilch. Nada. Null. None. Goose Egg.
We’re skunked on fudge.
I even picked up a candy thermometer, but due to a mis-read on it, the first two batches were very over-done and set up as soon as I started to beat them (Oh, I get to use it again, beat ’til creamy. That phrase does it for me every time.) Batch three came out very very close but is still a bit soft, but I’d gotten some of the boiling syrup on the thermometer and the read was a best-guess. Batch four was again over-cooked.
But you know, the smell of it cooling was right. I think that mattered more to me than the fudge itself, which is so sweet it’ll put me into a sugar-coma just thinking about it. But god, it smells good. And cooking with best friends is really what makes it christmas.
I’m gonna try again. I was hoping for a batch for christmas eve, but we’ll see.
Meanwhile, it seems like several of my female readers were quite enamored of my entry on shaving. Just let me know when you’re ready, I’m here with a razor any time.