Mom’s Christmas Fudge

Bless her heart! Every year since I've had memories, my mother has made THE most delicious chocolate fudge (and peanut butter, too) at Christmastime.

It remains the standard by which I judge all fudge, worldwide. :) Honestly, you just cannot image how good this stuff is! I truly cherish each piece, each bite. And of course, the dear lady who makes it.

Given Mom's declining health and the amount of work it evidently takes to make fudge, I never really "expect" it any more. But oh my, what a glorious surprise when Mom delivers a "tower o' fudge" just in time for the holidays! This year she even adorned it with beautiful Christmas ribbon, all tied up so professionally!

I know that creating candy requires stirring – sometimes, lots of stirring – and given that Mom has sadly broken both of her arms in recent years (she’s really, really prone to breakage), having to stir up this stuff truly is a labor of love for her. It hurts her.

Mom holds herself to a very high standard of quality; one year, the entire batch didn’t suit her (“too grainy,” she said) and she threw it all out!! The horror! She dispatched poor Dad to the Winn-Dixie store for more ingredients, and she created a new and better product. That’s Mom. “Good enough” is never good enough.

The ingredients are simple, but there’s no substitute for plain old expertise … she’s made this stuff at least since the 1950s. And of course, the “extra” ingredient is always love. She stirs in a healthy amount, I assure you. Mom and I don’t always agree, both of us being strong-willed people. But so far fudge has healed wounds and mended broken fences during the holiday season. (Maybe it has magic powers!)

My wife and I aren’t the only recipients of Mom’s largesse; others in her life have qualified for a small tin of chocolaty goodness from time to time. But me, being her only offspring, I always get the lion’s share. :)

I ration out the fudge, piece by piece, stretching it to cover the holidays through New Year’s. And I usually save a few pieces and pack them carefully in the freezer. I nibble on them throughout the year. And of course, I always think, “Hey, this could be the last batch of Mom’s famous fudge she ever makes….”

Some year soon, there will be no more fudge. Not decent fudge, anyway. Not from Mom. It’ll just be too much for her. We’ll have to settle for some sort of product from a candy counter somewhere. I shan’t complain, though, because believe me, I have eaten pounds of this stuff so far in my life. I’ve been blessed with fudgy abundance.

But for at least one more joyous holiday season, we have fudge aplenty; our family has three tins of confectionery magic to savor and enjoy. Life is good.

 

Thanks, Mom. Yours is absolutely the very, very, very best ever. Love you. 

The Fudge-maker-in-Chief and her assistant (otherwise known as "Dad")