Turkey Tracks: December 27, 2010
Louise Bryan’s Fudge
Louise Phillips Bryan was my beloved grandmother. My mother’s mother, she lived in Reynolds, Georgia, in a big old brick house that sat right across from the town square. The Baptist Church sat on one corner of this square–and was across from Big House–and the Methodist Church sat on the opposite, diagonal corner. The Bryan family was Baptist, only Grandmother, upon occasion, would declare that she was actually a Presbyterian.
From the time I was a tiny thing, I spent lots of time with her, especially after my sister Susan, four years my junior, was born. At that time my father, who was in the Air Force, was stationed in Savannah, Georgia. I remember him driving me half way to Reynolds and my Uncle Buddy meeting us and taking me the rest of the way home. And, yes, Reynolds and my Grandmother was “home.” (By the time I graduated from college, I had attended 14 schools that I can remember.)
Grandmother did not cook much. She had a cook for breakfast and dinner (in the middle of the day) and who came back if the family needed her for a supper event like a back-yard steak cookout. But, Grandmother made supper, and she cooked sweets, and made jams and jellies and canned tomatoes. Life at Big House revolved around meals to a large extent.
Anyway, I learned to make her fudge probably around the time I was ten. I’ve been making it ever since, and especially at Christmas. So, I want to put down the recipe here so it does not get lost. Right now, there is a tin of Grandmother’s fudge on the counter, the cake stand holds her Lane cake, and the cookie jar is full of pizzelles–just in case people stop in for tea.
Louise Bryan’s Fudge
The ingredients are simple. The method is a bit tricky. I’ll try to describe it as best I can, but you may have a few trials and errors before you master it. They’ll all still taste good. And, after all, that’s how I learned to do it when I was 10. No one fussed at me when I failed. They just let me alone in the kitchen. Although, usually there was more than one person involved when fudge was being made. My Aunt Martha, for instance, LOVED Grandmother’s fudge. She was often an instigator for making it. (Martha was just 10 years older than me and was married to my Uncle Buddy, aka Sydney Bryan.) So, maybe, actually, the way I learned was in the company of family women. Whatever, I learned in a relaxed way, which made me confident about my skills.
The recipe doubles quite well, and I usually make it doubled. But, until you master it, maybe keep to the single recipe?
Heavily butter a large flat plate or pyrex pan so you are ready when it’s time to pour the fudge to let it set.
4 heaping Tablespoons of cocoa, 2 cups of sugar, 2/3 cup of milk, and 2-3 Tablespoons of white corn syrup. (The corn syrup keeps the fudge smooth; it helps it to “make” without sugaring.) You’ll also need 3 Tablespoons of butter and 1 tsp. vanilla. If you’re using unsalted butter, add a pinch of salt. Grandmother almost always put pecans in her fudge. And, they are delicious in it. (Soak them first in salted water overnight and dry them in a low oven or dehydrator until they are crispy to remove their phytates.) Pecans are a staple nut in Georgia, and Grandmother had two trees in her back yard. I don’t know how many to tell you–at least a cup chopped?
Dump everything BUT the butter and vanilla into a fairly large saucepan. At least 1 1/2 quarts. The fudge will rise up the pan as it boils down, so use a deep pot.
Stir only until the mixture comes together and begins to boil. Don’t let it boil too hard. But don’t let it just simmer either. A slow rolling boil is best. DON’T STIR IT. If you do, it will sugar on you.
When it seems to be thicker, start testing it. Dip a spoon into the mixture and let a few drops fall into a glass of cold water. At first the fudge drops will shatter. When they start to congeal, taste the drops. The fudge is ready when the drops form threads and are chewy. IMMEDIATELY turn off the heat, put in the vanilla (it will splatter and hiss) and add the butter. Stir with a BIG SPOON vigorously to cool the mass. When you start to see stir lines in the fudge pour it into the waiting pan. This part is the really tricky part. If you pour too soon, it won’t harden. If you beat too long, it will “set” and you’ll have a pot full of congealed fudge. Most people err on the side of pouring too runny. And, the only thing I can tell you is that you might have to cook a few batches to get it for yourself. It does make great cake icing poured off a bit runny. And, I suppose you could roll it into balls with greased hands…???like a kind of taffy if you get it too runny.
When the fudge has “set” but is still warm, cut it into pieces and remove them to a tin or container you can close. If you wait too long, it’s hard to get the pieces out of the pan. The butter on the bottom hardens, too.
It’s dead simple once you understand when to stop cooking it and when to pour it off. And, it’s DELICIOUS!
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