No, that’s not a creative ephemism to cover up an expletive. My good friend, Gwen, and I made fudge!
No really, we did. (Update… my camera has decided to not work at the moment, pics coming soon)
This recipe was passed from my grandma to my mom to me. My mom makes this delicious fudge every single year. In fact, she makes multiple batches of fudge. Every year! It’s her thing. As a kid I would watch her deftly carve perfect squares of fudge out of a cake pan, arrange them symmetrically onto holiday plates, wrap them in colored plastic, then tie them with gobs of curling ribbons. She gives them out to everyone in her church choir… and since she is the wife of the choir director (Enter: Dad), that means dozens of plates. Just call her Martha.
Well, this year, I’m living in my own house and tried my own hand at fudge – without supervision – for the first time ever. With Gwen’s assistance, I think we did a pretty darn good job. It’s smooth, creamy, chocolatey – but how the heck did my Martha-Mom get those perfect squares cut out of the the cake pans??? The world may never know.
EAT. Knit. Run. Blog.