I had a bad day today. My whole family woke up grumpy. From our screaming have-to-be-held-by-mother-at-every-moment-she-is-in-my-sight 1 year old, a tantrummy and completely irrational toddler, and then your general ‘the gold is at an all time low since 2009’, Nkandla robbery, stabbing on the N2, to the threat of more load shedding, and and and – it just happened to be one of those days. I’m usually a bright shining light of optimism, but not today.
As it turns out, my colleagues were having a pretty crap day themselves and so, since misery loves company, we took ourselves out for lunch to cheer ourselves up. A carb-filled lunch. Mine had strawberry chutney on it. Oh. Yum.
Regardless, just before we head into a month of Paleo, I figured I needed to splurge on making some old school fudge (mainly also to use up the last tin of condensed milk in the cupboard to avoid it’s tempting glare).
And so here’s my mom’s all time best fudge recipe. It’s cooked old school style – on the stove. There is absolutely nothing green about this. Nothing. That’s why this blog is called Our GreenISH Life. For days such as this. Don’t get all judgy on me.
I’m calling it Granny B’s Fudge: (since at home we just call it, well, ‘fudge’)
3 cups sugar
1/4 (500g) block of butter
1/2 cup milk
1 can condensed milk
(pre-grease a square pan with very ungreen spray ‘n cook)
Melt the butter, sugar and milk on a medium heat. When it boils add the tin of condensed milk and stir your arm off. Literally.
Mom always stirs it for about 30min but I like my fudge a bit softer and crumblier and so I stir it for about 20min or until I like the shade of the fudge. This is a labour of love. And, trust me, your family will LOVE YOU. AND, if you think about it, stirring vigorously for almost half an hour must burn off so many calories before you’ve thrown anything in your mouth that you’re in the red on the calorie count before you’ve even begun. So mathematically, you have to eat some fudge post-cooking to break even. No brainer.
NB: You have to keeeeeep stiiiirring. Don’t stop. Not for anything. And even with a perfectly committed and undisturbed stirring discipline you may see a couple dark (ermmm… burnt) spots rise to the top – but don’t fear. You won’t see them at the end. It happens to the best of us.
Pour into the greased dish and cut it before it cools/hardens.
Pack it away before the kids get up in the morning so they’re none the wiser.