Every December, I realize with a shock that I have a group of family, coworkers and acquaintances to exchange gifts with and no freaking idea what to give them. I panic trying to come up with homemmade gifts, then stay awake for hours at night in the weeks before Christmas trying to pull it off.
Last year's experiment was maple cream. (Well, last year's second experiment. Someday I will tell you about the quart of onion jam that is still in my fridge.) It's a simple recipe that involves heating maple syrup to a temperature above boiling, cooling it in a water bath and whipping it with a spoon until it gets a creamy texture and opaque color. It's beautiful, creamy, delicious and addictive. Simple, right? I used a candy thermometer, followed the directions, and the first batch came out beautifully.
The biggest problem was my stove, which is smarter than I am. I got this new GE flat cooktop stove a few months ago, and in general, I love it. I love having choices about burner size and cleaning the smooth, shiny top. I love how everything is digital and magical. But it is NOT designed for making candy. Because, you see, it is too smart to heat things above the boiling point of water, apparently. I spent about half an hour intermittently turning the stove off and then turning it back on, and switching between burners to trick the stove into staying hot enough to get the syrup to about 230 degrees. But in the end, it was a delicious success.
The second batch, however, was doomed. I didn't re-test the thermometer, because I used the same thermometer in the same pot about a week later. Everything seemed fine. I felt like I had mastered the stove, and everything was laid out for the next steps. I put the pot in a water bath, waited a respectable interval, dipped the wooden spoon into the pot and, as it hit the surfce of the syrup, it went, "clank." I don't know if you know, but "clank" is not the sound of creamy things. It is the sound of solid objects hitting other solid objects.
I tried to reheat the syrup, which seemed like a possible way to get the syrup out of the pan and maybe even salvage some maple hard candy, somehow. Until the volcano of burned maple started puffing out from the edge of the candy's surface. You see, when you heat a solid, it gets warm on the bottom first, and if the heat can't escape through the surface, it burns like freshmen on spring break.
I decided to make fudge instead.
And that's why there was a pot of cloudy brown liquid in my sink, if you happened to wonder during the Christmas party. Thanks for not asking.
