Hello and Happy Holidays to you all! Soooooooooo...are you ready
to become sugar induced? hehe
My kiddo and I have started trying new things in the
kitchen...namely because I hate cooking and avoid that area of the house like
the plague and she's getting to the age that she wants to learn to cook so is
playing the "You're the mama" card on me...*heads desk* Monday, we are
gonna try our hand at home made fudge!
Now wait a second...I don't even know what a candy thermometer
looks like—let alone own one...and really, there are people out there that do
have these mythical things handy???
That's cool—the kiddo found a recipe that doesn't require that
obscure in my life piece of equipment...she showed me this recipe and said it
was something even I could do...love that brat! lmao
Soooooooooooo...here is the Foolproof Holiday Fudge
(yes...yes I'm the fool lol - and this recipe is verbatim since I've yet to try it out *blushes*) with the link from where we snagged it...hope you
enjoy *big smiles*
Yield: Makes 24 two-inch pieces
okay...I'd do this peppermint :) |
Ingredients
Vegetable oil, cooking spray
2 cups sugar
1 teaspoon salt
6 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 cup heavy cream
3 1/2 cups mini marshmallows
3 cups semisweet or white chocolate chips
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/2 cup crushed peppermint candy (yeah...I don't do hard peppermint candy, so we'll be substituting toffee I
think *winks*)
Directions
Line a 9-by-13-inch baking pan with two sheets of waxed or parchment
paper in a crisscross manner (one lengthwise, one crosswise) so ends overhang
sides of pan; coat evenly with cooking spray.
In a heavy-bottomed saucepan over medium heat, cook sugar, salt,
butter, cream, and marshmallows, stirring, until butter and marshmallows are
almost melted, 5 to 6 minutes.
Bring mixture to a boil; cook, stirring occasionally, 5 minutes.
Remove from heat. Add chips and vanilla; stir until chips are melted. Pour
mixture into lined pan.
Let fudge cool in the pan at room temperature, 3 hours. Use edges of
paper to lift out fudge; place on cutting board, and remove paper. Cut out
shapes with cookie cutters, or cut fudge into bars. Sprinkle evenly with
crushed candy.
Baby girl is looking forward to using the Christmas shaped
cookie cutters on the fudge...lol...I'm just glad they aren't huge cookie
cutters—you only need a little bit in my opinion to hit that sweet spot...*big
smiles*
*claps hands together* Your turn!!!! Leave me a comment with
either your fave holiday dessert recipe or a link to your fave...and...your
email addy to be in the running to win my Christmas novella (see below) & a
gift card from All Romance e-books...that's right—you can win both!
So come one and all (hey! I'm trying to keep this clean you
know...hehe) and share your recipes and email addy...then hop on over to the
other wonderful authors who are participating and enjoy theirs! *huge hugs*
~Hop Here~
Blurb:
Ever since his brother's death, Camden doesn't do Christmas.
This is exactly what he plans to tell his bigoted parents on what will be his
last Christmas trip up north. But when he gets snowed-in with the eccentric and
way too jolly Trace, just maybe spirits can be revived.
Available at Amazon and AllRomance e-books
Excerpt:
Camden jumped, which caused him
to stagger backward onto the towel the stranger was pointing to. "Holy
shit, you scared me!"
"I never understood that
expression. Why would shit ever be holy? No preacher I know would bless it. You
people have the strangest sayings." The stranger walked toward him and
started unzipping his jacket.
"Hey! What are you
doing?" Camden chattered out as he tried to push the guy's persistent
hands away from him. "Stop that!"
The man ignored his protests and
worked around Cam's hands to finally open up the article of clothing he was
infatuated with. "You are covered in snow and soaking wet. If we don't get
these off of you, pneumonia is in your imminent future. That will not do, it
would make no one happy."
Cam was roughly turned around as
the jacket was yanked down his arms and thrown in a basket set by the towel.
"Hmm. Your sweater is also
damp, what were you doing? Making snow angels? Off with this, too."
Again, without his permission,
his sweater was quickly dragged up his chest and over his head. He raised his
arms last minute in fear that this psycho would actually take them off if they
didn't cooperate.
"Who the hell are you? And
where are you from?" Cam had noticed a unique accent that he couldn't
place, not that he was an accent expert or anything.
"Shouldn't I be asking you
those questions? You are standing in my parlor, after all."
Camden took a second to get a
good look at this guy. Well, if nothing else came from this strange meeting, at
least he was hot. Not in the ordinary
make-his-jeans-drop-and-beg-to-be-done-right way… more in the
interesting-to-look-at-and-study-because-did-his-eyes-just-twinkle-and-change-color
way. And Cam swore they just did both. When this man walked over to Cam he
distinctly had blue eyes, now they looked more lavender and they, Camden
couldn't even believe he was thinking this, but they really did sparkle or
something. Maybe he wore contacts.
Aside from the eyes, the man had
a slightly larger than normal nose and high forehead, blond bangs hanging
shaggily to the side. The rest of his blond hair was tousled and fell just
below the collar of his pullover sweater. Oh, but his lips were tempting too.
Camden was a sucker for a good set of lips with a distinctive cupid's bow.
The man ran his hands over
Camden's chest. When his fingertips rubbed over Cam's nipples innocently
enough, he had to bite his lip to stop the moan.
Cam swatted at those roaming
hands again. "Fine! I'm Camden Bartels and I'm from Miami. Now does my
chest pass your inspection?"
"Yes. This shirt is dry, you
may keep it on."
"Well, thank you so much. Do
you always treat your guests like this?"
"Technically, I never
invited you in. So if we were to use your Merriam Webster dictionary's
definition, then you aren't a guest. Those pants are wet, take them off."
Camden never thought that he
could feel indignant about a gorgeous man wanting him to undress, but at this
moment—hell yeah he could. "Not happening. And I always preferred the
Oxford dictionary myself."