If the Fudge Don’t Flush, Eat It

Recipe Source: Unknown
Year: early 1900s
Recipe: Sour Cream Fudge
Music to Cook by: All You Need is Love

After the news broke that the 7 billionth human took its first breath last week, my friend Dawn set forth a poop prophesy that our world will at some point not be able to handle the excess human excrement. She predicted we will soon be covered in shit.  Even Bill Gates  has established The Toilet Challenge to invent a better toilet to poopare us for the problem.  It is a problem that is approaching humanity like a poopnami. No one in the mainstream seems concerned.

I own a dog and pick up dog poop on a daily basis and it occurred to me that pet poop compounds this problem.  The good news is that dogs (like the Fab Lab, Pearl) love cat poop.  Pearl helps with the problem on a daily basis.   I am totally mesmerized that she thinks that cat poop not only smells good but tastes good too.  Cat poop is like kitty Almond Rocca to her.  It’s my belief that even if science could create an edible human poop, most would not eat it.

Since I am blogging about poop, what better recipe to make than FUDGE!  I found an unusual recipe in my Great Grandmothers journal for fudge.  Most fudge I have loved and consumed involves marshmallow cream.  This fudge?  Sour cream.

Sour Cream Fudge

Note: I used cocoa because I couldn’t find .10 syrup. TEN CENTS!  Today it costs $1.89.  Talk about inflation.  What does “cloying” mean anyway?

For my first attempt (yes, I said first), I tried making the fudge without a candy thermometer because I didn’t own one (yes, I said didn’t).   I thought only sissies used candy thermometers and I had complete faith that I could figure out the amount of time necessary to “cook until soft ball stage.”  In the end, I didn’t boil it long enough.   It was mushy, but very, very tasty.

I briefly thought about tying this poop-fudge blog up with a big shiny ribbon by performing a toilet-flush test with the fudge, but decided the intestines of my house might rebel.  I decided to instead turn to my good pal, the Magic 8 Ball, for answers.

Fudge #1 Flushability? The Magic 8 ball says…….

For my second attempt, I bought a sissified thermometer.  The thermometer I bought is a giant contraption and the size of the Empire State Building………… if the Empire State Building was a thermometer.

SEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE?  What?  You don’t understand?  Maybe this will help.

King Kong and the Empire State Thermometer

I was at a loss on how to use this thing.  I figured you just stuck it in the pot and that was that.  The pot I was using was relatively small, so the Empire State Building thermometer seemed extremely awkward. I felt like I was trying to fit the Empire State Building into a garage.  I didn’t realize there was a clip on the back to adjust to the size of the pot.   I ended up boiling the fudge TOO long.   It was as tough as taffy and had a charred taste. In fact, the next day I didn’t wash my hair and my locks smelled like toasted fudge all day.  It’s a smell that will cling to ya like a green fly on some tasty poo.

Fudge #2 Flushability? The Magic 8 ball says…….

For my third attempt, I decided to study a few other fudge recipes and look for advice on Empire State Building thermometers.  I found help with both.  I altered the recipe a bit by reducing the sour cream and introducing light syrup. I also discovered the clip on the back of the thermometer which allows the user to adjust to pot size.  Everything went well and I boiled the fudge juuuuussssst right (I’m starting to feel like this is an episode of Goldilocks and the three fudges).

Fudge for me is measured on a comparison scale with my mom’s fudge.  She makes gobsmacklingly good fudge.  In fact, she is the reason I never attempt to make fudge.  If my mom’s fudge ranks a 10, this fudge ranked a 3.   I will keep the third batch and munch on it, but am not taking it into work for my crew to test.

Fudge #3 Flushability? The Magic 8 ball says…….

 

 

 

 

 

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