| The Digital Hausfrau ...where I have root and the fare is liberally seasoned with pith and vinegar. |
![]() |
Around here, to "make fudge" is a euphemism for a situation in which, when working with children, you really don't know what the hell you're going to do to fill the time, but it's ok, because they are a fairly ignorant and easily pleased audience. Like this: "Ok, so this week in Sunday school, we're going to do this, this, and this, and that will take us until 11:30, and from 11:30 to 12:00, I don't know, we'll make fudge."
But, next month at my library class, we really are going to make fudge! I found this recipe for no-cook fudge on the Good Old Internet:
3 ounces cream cheese
2 cups sifted confectioners' sugar
Dash of salt
2 (1 ounce) squares unsweetened chocolate, melted
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 tablespoon cream
1 cup miniature marshmallows
Place cream cheese in a bowl and cream it until soft and smooth. Slowly blend in sugar. Add salt and melted chocolate. Mix well. Add vanilla extract and cream; mix until well blended. Fold in marshmallows. Place in refrigerator until firm (about 15 minutes).
Cut into squares.
Looks fairly revolting, no? But I figure that the sugar content alone should be sufficient to please my little darlings.
We're going to read Harold and Chester in Hot Fudge to pass the time while it chills. I figure the whole concept is sufficiently holiday-season without crossing that line into Obviously Christmas to work for everyone, Jewish Teacher and Almost Exclusively Christian Townsfolk alike.
Speaking of my little darlings, I have this terrific little girl in my library audience. L. is very obviously learning impaired and developmentally delayed in some way or another, but she is well-behaved and enthusiastic and sweet as can be. She took my apple class in the Fall, and then she ran into me at temple at the high holidays. I'm sure she doesn't know my name, but she knows she knows me. She saw me yesterday at the library when she was part of the class that Emily took, and she kept waving at me surreptitiously through the classroom window. After class, she gave me a really squeezy hug, and I felt rather good about the whole thing. I hope she comes to the fudge group.