Divinity

Filbert brittle makes me think of Grandma G. But divinity? Divinity makes me think of Grandma B. I don't have many memories of Grandma B. that come from just-me, as opposed to other people's stories. See, she died when I was just about 3 years old, and the times we'd gone up to Portland to visit, I'd been going to doctor's appointments. My sister got to stay with Grandma, and so has many more direct memories of her. I do remember her holiday candy tray, though, and, especially, the divinity.

The Farm Journal's Homemade Candy offers up the following basic divinity recipe (and several variations that make buying the book well worth your $2):

Divinity
Sells fast at food bazaars

2 1/4 c. sugar
1/3 c. white corn syrup
1/4 tsp. salt
1/3 c. water
2 egg whites
1 tsp. vanilla
2/3 c. chopped pecans or walnuts

Place sugar, corn syrup, and water in a 2-qt. heavy saucepan; cook and stir over high heat until sugar is dissolved. Continue cooking without stirring over medium heat until syrup reaches the hard ball stage (255°). Wipe off any sugar crystals that form on sides of pan.

Meanwhile, beat egg whites until stiff. Pour hot syrup slowly over egg whites and beat on medium speed of mixer until candy fluffs up. Add vanilla and continue beating on medium speed, or by hand, until mixture begins to lose its gloss and a small amount dropped from a spoon holds soft peaks. (If the candy gets too stiff for the mixer, complete the beating with a wooden spoon.) Fold in nuts.

Working quickly, drop candy by teaspoonfuls onto waxed paper or turn into lightly buttered 8" square pan. If divinity becomes too stiff, stir in a few drops of hot water. Makes about 24 pieces or 1 pound.

Have I mentioned this week that you really, really, truly need to have a decent candy thermometer? You do. Cooking with sugar is all about the temperature, and though you could technically figure out what stage you're at by dropping bits into cold water and then manipulating it, that takes time, and isn't as accurate. Get a candy thermometer. It will make this much easier.

My mom gave me a Betty Crocker cookbook (which I'm sure to feature on Take One Cookbook at some point) when I went off to college. She wrote on the divinity page "do not make on a rainy day." Divinity and humidity do not go well together. Homemade Candy suggests that if you beat the divinity enough, you'll manage just fine. And by "enough," I mean that it could take up to 15 minutes. No, really. If you thought about trying this without a mechanized mixer, the time to rethink that is now.

If you want to do dropped-from-spoons divinity, have a partner, or it's going to set up on you. I remember divinity cut into squares, so I'm guessing that Grandma B. always poured it into a pan. She didn't lack for helpers, mind you; Mom is one of 7 children. But, still, if you've got hot sugar and 7 kids under foot, the quicker path is probably the wiser one.

Unless you're dealing with a taffy pull. Homemade Candy will walk you through that, too. Pick up a copy, and let me know how your creations turn out.

I feel like I should say that, growing up, I always assumed that the Turkish Delight that the White Witch fed Edmund was, in fact, divinity. What else would lead a child to betray his family? It's that good.

Homemade Marshmallows

Nowadays, nearly every culinary or family magazine will give you a recipe for homemade marshmallows, but back in 1970, when The Farm Journal's Homemade Candy came out, marshmallows in the U.S. came in a plastic bag at the grocers. They were meant to be put in fruit salad, or melted on top of sweet potatoes, or really really melted in with margarine to coat Rice Krispies for a Treat. I adore marshmallows (even the mass produced kind), and encourage you to give 'em a go in your own kitchen.

Homemade Marshmallows
Light, delicate and delicious

2 tblsp. unflavored gelatin
3/4 c. cold water
2 c. sugar
1/8 tsp. salt
3/4 c. boiling water
1 tblsp. vanilla
Chopped nuts or toasted flaked coconut for coating

Soften gelatin in cold water 5 minutes; then dissolve by stirring over hot water.

Combine sugar, salt and boiling water in 2-qt. heavy saucepan; cook, stirring utnil sugar dissolves, to the soft crack stage (280°).

Pour into mixing bowl along with the gelatin mixture and beat at low speed for 3 minutes; continue beating at medium speed for 10 minutes or until mixture is fluffy and creamy. Add vanilla and pour into an 8" square pan dusted with confectioners sugar.

Cool 1/2 hour or until set, then cut in 36 squares with knife moistened in water. Roll in nuts or coconut. Place in airtight container and put in refrigerator, freezer or other cold place until ready to use. Makes about 1 pound.

Note: Tint the gelatin mixture while heating -- pale green, pink, or yellow -- if you wish. Roll green candy in chopped nuts, pink in flaked coconut, yellow in toasted coconut and white in nuts or coconut. You can vary the flavorings if you wish. Instead of vanilla use almound, peppermint, orange or lemon extract.

In case it's not 100% clear, do NOT use these magnificent beasties for your Rice Krispie Treat needs. These are to be savored on their own.

I'm generally pro-nut, but don't think that nuts really pair well with an otherwise unadorned marshmallow. If you're going to enrobe the nut-crusted 'mallow with chocolate, well, ... maybe. But otherwise, please keep them plain, or dusted in confectioner's sugar, or, yes, use that coconut. Personally, I'd tint the coconut and leave the marshmallows white.

Instead of using a knife to cut the marshmallow into pieces, try using kitchen shears. You'll manage the task much more quickly, and with greater precision.

What are your favorite uses for marshmallows?

Right about now, I can see plopping a big marshmallow into a cup of hot cocoa, watching it swell, and then nibbling my way to the beverage. Mmmm...marshmallows remind me of childhood.

Filbert Brittle

Though plates of fudge and cookies make me go back in my mind to my mom's family home, there are a few things that make me leap, mentally, to Dad's mom's house. Ribbon candy. Scotch and soda. Dill pickles. Brittle. And nuts.

Grandma always had a wooden bowl filled with nuts in their shells, sitting out on the coffee table. There were nut picks and a nut cracker (which looks surprisingly like what I've seen folks out here use for cracking crab). We would crack and eat nuts all visit long. My favorites were always the filberts.

Mmmm, filberts. For, lo, it was Oregon, and it was the 70s, and they were filberts. The rest of the world might call 'em "hazelnuts," but we knew better. Filbert orchards everywhere, and tasty, tasty filberts, too.

Imagine my surprise when I went to an Oregon wine tasting here in DC, and met the heads of the Oregon HAZELNUT Growers Association. They begged me to not call them filberts anymore. Seems that properly named filberts don't command the same price on the international marked as identical-except-in-name hazelnuts. A bit of me died that night.

Back to Grandma, and memories. The Farm Journal's Homemade Candy has a recipe that combines two of the tastes that make me think of Grandma G.

Unsurpassable Filbert Brittle

Filberts grow in Oregon and candy makers there believe that confections featuring them can't be surpassed. They have a right to be proud of this brittle. If you can't find filberts in your markets, you can use either raw Spanish peanuts or salted peanuts as a substitute in the recipe for Filbert Brittle.

As with all brittle recipes, the trick is to prevent scorching and the formation of sugar crystals during the cooking. This recipe shows the way a home economics teacher controls these problems. All her friends recognize her as an expert candy maker.

She likes to pour the cooked brittle onto a warm marble slab, brushed with mineral oil, but you can use heavy duty foil, well oiled or buttered. To warm the marble, she lays her electric pad on it and turns on the electricity -- an original idea.

Filbert Brittle

A holiday treat in the Northwest -- it's worth adoption across country

4 c. whole or halved filberts
3 c. sugar
1 14/ c. light corn syrup
1 c. boiling water
2 tblsp. butter
1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. vanilla

Remove any excess or loose fibers from filberts, but do not remove skins.

Combine sugar, corn syrup, and boiling water in 3-qt. heavy saucepan. Stir until sugar is dissolved, then cover and place over medium heat until syrup boils. Remove lid; insert candy termometer and cook at medium boil to the soft ball stage (240°).

Add filberts all at once. Do not stir until mixture again boils (it might start a crystal). Then stir with a wooden spoon to keep nuts from scorching, using care not to touch sides of pan above surface of syrup, for the friction of spoon may cause crystals to fall into syrup and cause a coarse-grain candy.

Cook to the hard crack stage (310°), or even beyond it to 320°, at which stage sugar caramelizes and turns a dark golden color. Add butter; remove from heat at once. Then add salt, soda and vanilla, stirring in well.

Pour onto warm marble slab, brushed with mineral oil or butter, or onto buttered heavy duty foil. Pour brittle so it spreads out as thinly as possible. Work a buttered or oiled spatula under one side of brittle and turn it over. Pull the brittle as thin as possible. (A heatproof mit is helpful in turning and pulling brittle.)

Let cool; then break in pieces of eating size. Store in airtight containers. Place in freezer, refrigerator or other cold place. Makes 3 pounds.

Do take it to the 320°F point, please, and get the darker, yummier, caramelized sugar. It's so worth it.

I can taste it now. The butter. The burnt sugar. The crisp nuts. How, on a humid day (and, hello, it was Oregon...rainy rainy humid), it would be a bit softer, a bit grainier. Still tasty as all get out.

Butterscotch Haystacks

It's not very often I feature a recipe on Take One Cookbook that I know my sister would not only eat, but also enjoy. She's a very particular eater, and perhaps in a long-standing fit of rebellion ("I CAN be different than my sister!"), I eat pretty much anything. Not eel. Never eel. I have eel issues. Eel... :shudder:

But we're not here to talk about eel. Today or ever.

No, today we're here to talk about Farm Journal's Homemade Candy confection section, and specifically, and easy, adaptable, tasty treat that even my sister will eat.

Butterscotch Haystacks
Crisp and sweet and so easy to make

2 (6 oz.) pkgs. butterscotch-flavored morsels
1 1/2 c. salted cashew nuts
1 (5 oz.) can chow mein noodles

Melt butterscotch bits in top of double boiler, stirring occasionally to blend.

Meanwhile, combine nuts and chow mein noodles; place in preheated low oven (200°). Add warmed nuts and noodles to melted butterscotch and stir until all are coated.

Quickly drop with a dessert spoon onto waxed paper-lined baking sheet to form little haystacks. If nuts and noodles are warmed, butterscotch will not set until all the stacks are spooned out. Makes 48 haystacks, or about 1 pound.

Note: You can substitute 1 1/2 c. salted peanuts for the cashews, if you wish.

I'm here to tell you, you can do this without nuts altogether. Nuts are fine and all, but there's nothing saying they need to be here. Other than the recipe, mind you. But we're all about informed substitution (and deletion) here at Take One Cookbook. You could also use walnuts, or pecans, or whatever nut you like. Here's my suggestion: A big ol' spoonful of peanut butter, put in with the butterscotch chips when you melt them. Mmmm, nutty taste and no nut chunks to distract from the texture of the chow mein. (I may have been influenced by my big sister in some food preferences, after all.)

Here's an informed substitution I recommend you make whichever side of the nut equation you land on: lose the double boiler. Melt in a microwave-safe glass bowl, 1 minute at first and then in 15 second bursts, stirring between, until all melted. So. much. easier. than using a double boiler.

Besides putting something sweet, nutty, crunchy, and easy on your cookie and candy plate for the holidays, this post is also an introduction to my big sister, Kelly, who has guest blogger credentials for Take One Cookbook. Sometime in the near future, she'll be mining the West Coast family library of cookbooks; I hear she'll start with a boozy book, which makes us all very, very happy, indeed.

Sauerkraut Candy

Be not afraid.

There is no actual sauerkraut in this candy. (Though, let it be known, sauerkraut goes great in sweets, especially in chocolately sauerkraut cake. No, really.)

Trust me. Trust the editors of the Farm Journal's Homemade Candy. This is good stuff.

Sauerkraut Candy Comes Back

Most youngsters never heard of Sauerkraut Candy, but oldsters know it well. The "sauerkraut" is shredded coconut and you team it with penuche. Many grocery stores throughout the Midwest sold it from barrels during the Gay Nineties. It held its place in the sun until World War I. Then for some reason it almost disappeared. Make it once and you may stage a revival, for the candy tastes extra-good.

Sauerkraut Candy
You can't miss with this combination of lots of coconut in penuche

2 c. light brown sugar, firmly packed
2 c. white sugar
1/4 c. light corn syrup
1 1/3 c. dairy half-and-half
1/4 c. butter (1/2 stick)
1/4 tsp. salt
1 tsp. vanilla
1 1/2 c. shredded coconut

Combine sugars, corn syrup and half-and-half in a 3-qt. heavy saucepan with buttered sides. Cooked over medium-high heat, stirring until sugar is dissolved. Continue cooking to the soft ball stage (238 to 240°).

Remove from heat; add butter and salt without stirring. Cool to lukewarm (110°). Add vanilla and beat until creamy; mixture loses gloss and becomes opaque.

Fold in coconut all at once. Pour onto buttered and chilled platter or into an 8" square pan. Cut in slices if thick or in 49 squares if molded in pan. Makes about 2 1/4 pounds.

You may be wondering what the heck penuche is. I'd never heard the word before. Turns out, it's a brown-sugar fudge. I know, I know... fudge overload. But it's more caramel-y than the average fudge; Wikipedia describes some uses:

Penuche is also used as a boiled icing flavor. It was once very popular in Hawaii where the name was localized as Panocha or Panuche. "Panocha" is said to come from the Spanish word for raw sugar. Hawaiian cooks often reminisce about both panocha fudge and icing. As an icing, it was common as topping for prune cake. Other names for Penuche include Noochie and creamy praline fudge.

Ooooo. Oooo, I like the idea of a prune cake, and of a brown sugar fudge-tastic icing. This appeals to my inner Icelandic self, which believes that all winter holidays should have pastries made from prunes (see: family recipe for vinaterta, which I should really post here at some point).

I was stopped in my tracks by the phrase "Gay Nineties"; when did we stop giving decades cute monikers? The Roaring Twenties is the last one that springs easily to mind. Surely we could come up with some more.

I think the author of the recipe pulls a few punches, or is willfully ignoring the obvious. If "for some reason" a recipe with a Germanic name drops from public usage sometime within the lifetime of folks who ate it during the Gay Nineties, it's not a big mystery. It's called The War. Even sauerkraut wasn't called sauerkraut anymore; it became Liberty cabbage.

Coconut is one of those things that I adore, that I know many people loathe, and that I can't understand anyone disliking. It's so mild. So tasty. So delightful. Chefly Husband, thankfully, adores it, even though his father twitches at the mere thought of the shredded horror.

Cheddar Cheese Fudge; No, really.... cheddar cheese fudge!

You've heard about the cookbooks that are all about sneaking something healthy into food for kids. A spoonful of peas in a plate of brownies, or a tablespoon of grated beetroot in a quart of strawberry milkshakes. Those cookbooks just aren't trying hard enough.

The editors of the Food Journal's Homemade Candy manage to get two cups of nutrition into this recipe. Okay, okay, it's not vegetably nutrition, but still. If you have a picky eater in your house or family, or a wealth of cheese, give it a try.

Popular Cheddar Cheese Fudge

Cheese fudge proves the inaccuracy of the old saying that there is nothing new under the sun. When a state supervisor of the school lunch program made some of this candy for one of our food editors, she moved any question there might have been about why the sweet was so popular with youngsters.

One of the splendid features of the candy, loaded with Cheddar cheese and dry milk powder, flavored with butter, vanilla and cocoa, is that the electric mixer does almost all the work. You do not even cook the fudge. It's ideal for serving to a crowed of youngsters. But pass it to grownups, too, for they'll like its creaminess, sweet chocolate flavor and the way it serves as a snack to satisfy appetites.

Cheddar Cheese Fudge

Cheese flavor is subtle in this creamy, no-cook, protein-rich candy

2 c. shredded Cheddar cheese (1/2 lb)
1 c. butter (2 sticks)
1/2 c. cocoa
1 1/2 lbs. confectioners sugar
1 1/2 c. nonfat dry milk powder (1/2 lb.)
1/2 tblsp. vanilla

Have all ingredients at room temperature; combine in large mixer bowl. Beat until creamy (it may be necessary to moisten mixture with 1/4 c. whole milk).

Put in buttered 9" square pan; chill. When firm, cut candy in 64 squares. Makes about 3 1/2 pounds.

Note: Drained maraschino cherries, flaked coconut, miniature marshmallows or chopped nuts may be added.

...I'm fascinated and appalled, all at once. That's a heck of a lot of cheese, and anything with that much cheese is appealing. Part of me wants to try it out with my 5 year old niece. She's not a cheese eater (the shame!), but she's a great kitchen helper. If you ever need anything added to your mixer bowl, call on Meg. I think she'd enjoy making this, and might even (gasp) eat it, too. At the very least, she could make a plate to give to her fudge-loving grandpa.

Most of my fudge memories are from family celebrations when I was a kid in the 70s. There were always plates of sweets, and the little squares of homemade fudge were my favorites (right up there with thumbprint cookies). Normally, I wouldn't do two such similar recipes from one book, but ... fudge! Fudge for the holidays! There's time enough for sauerkraut candy, divinity, brittles and the like later on this week.

Homemade Candy, Farm Journal Editors; Kneaded Chocolate Fudge

"How long has it been since you've cut creamy-smooth squares of chocolate fudge to pass on a plate to guests?" asks Nell B. Nichols, food editor of the Farm Journal and editor of Homemade Candy (copyright 1970). The introduction to the book is titled "Everyone Likes Candy!" and this enthusiasm carries throughout. I could come up with some poetic claptrap to talk about why I'm featuring this book now, at the start of Advent, but Ms. Nichols provides a handy reminder:

With the approach of Christmas, when you "deck your halls with holly" and decide on the most prominent spot for your tinseled tree, candy also moves to stage center -- indeed, it becomes a kitchen campaign! The candy treats you make before the holidays are a friendly greeting to relatives and neighbors who stop by to nibble while they talk. Homemade candy also is something special to share with people far away. Packages holding coffee cans, stuffed with love and candy, travel from home kitchens to servicemen and students around the earth."

So, if you're ready to start your kitchen campaign (or if you just share my abnormal curiosity about transforming sugar into candy), let's get started. The book is divided into two uneven sections: a large section on candy, and a much smaller one on confections, "first cousins of candy." Before the recipes come, there's an extended and somewhat tortured metaphor about candy making as theater, but the general tips about what kinds of sugars and other ingredients are used are sound. The biggest thing to remember when making candy that requires heat is this: hot sugar is very very very very very very very very hot. Do not underestimate it. If you get it on you, you will be very very very sorry. Let's avoid the sorts of tears that can come from a kitchen failure and an E.R. visit.

Kneaded Chocolate Fudge

Ideal candy for mailing -- pack unsliced rolls into cans or mailing tubes

2 squares unsweetened chocolate, cut into pieces
1 c. milk
3 c. sugar
1/4 c. light corn syrup
1/8 tsp. salt
1 tsp. vinegar
2 tblsp. butter or margarine
1 tsp. vanilla
1/2 c. chopped nuts

Combine chocolate and milk in 3-qt. heavy saucepan. Cook over low heat, stirring constantly, until milk is scalded and chocolate is melted. Stir in sugar, corn syrup, and salt.

Place over medium heat and stir until sugar dissolves. If sugar crystals form on sides of pan, wipe them off. Cook at a steady, fairly low boil without stirring to the soft ball stage (238°F). Remove from heat. Very gently stir in vinegar. Add butter without stirring. Cool until lukewarm (110°).

Add vanilla and beat until candy loses its gloss and starts to thicken. Stir in nuts.

Pour into lightly buttered pan or large platter. Let stand until cool enough to knead. Knead with fingers about 5 minutes.

Shape into 2 rolls, each about 2" in diameter and about 5" long. Wrap in waxed paper or foil and store in refrigerator or other cool place until ready to use. Slice slightly on diagonal in 1/2" slices, wiping knife during cutting if fudge sticks to its blade. Makes 20 to 22 slices, or about 2 pounds.

Candy Christmas Trees From an Iowa farm kitchen comes this suggestion: Knead fudge and mold in lightly oiled or buttered Christmas tree gelatin salad molds (3 1/2" long and 3" wide in broadest part is a good size). Cool and unmold. With a little encouragement from a knife at the base, the "trees" slip out easily. Decorate simply with white or tinted Ornamental Icing (see Index). Include at least one "fudge tree" in each gift box and one in the center of a plate of candy to promote conversations and compliments.

By all means, let's promote conversations and compliments! I used to make fudge using nothing as precise as this recipe. I remember little about it other than all the cooking was done in the microwave, and it didn't need any kneading. It was no where near as good as proper candy shop fudge, but here's the thing you should know: even bad fudge is better than no fudge. If you try your hand at making fudge, even if it doesn't come out perfectly the first time, it'll be tasty. A lot of people have candy-making fear, thinking it's some sort of old granny magic. Abandon that thinking, and think of it as a chemistry experiment. Temperature and time are important; follow the recipe to the letter in those respects, and you'll do just fine.

Homemade Candy says that the two mistakes people make with fudge is beating it too early, and too little. Wait. Wait. Wait until it's lukewarm. Keep that candy thermometer in the pot, and do not jump the gun. And then, beat, beat, beat. You could beat it by hand. You could. I'd suggest that powered appliances are your better bet here, though.

This week, we'll get lots of homemade goodies you can give to coworkers, neighbors, friends and family. Impress the heck out of them, save money over store bought, and avoid the Chia Pet problem -- no one has to wonder what to do with a plate of candy, after all. We'll also be seeing more goodies from guest blogger John, with the Women's Institute cookbook he's pilfered from his mother's shelf!