Post by mnhermit on Dec 18, 2006 21:01:16 GMT -5
Sugar cookies with red or green frosting, gingerbread Santas, Macaroons, Divinity, date Thumbprints. These are some of the cookies that I remember making with the family when I was a child at Christmas time. Four of five of us kids arguing about who got to lick the bowl, or the beaters or the spoons and Mom keeping order with a wooden spoon. It's a wonder any of us got to sleep from the sugar rush.
We all looked forward to this time of year, for the special cookies we'd have, but even more for the candy my Dad would make. We couldn't help with that. It seemed like magic, he'd be at the stove (the only time we'd see him at the stove was when he made candy) watching a pot boil then suddenly taking the pot off the burner, plopping butter and nuts in and stirring hard then pouring it all out in a glass pan. Soon we'd all get one piece of candy about an inch cubed. It was heavenly.
I've tried to make this candy (Pinoche) off and on since I was fourteen. Occasionally I'd get something close to his product, but most often I'd get a rather gritty syrup. Not bad as an ice cream topping, but not the candy I remembered.
Last spring when he was visiting I asked him to teach me how to make it right, and I got the whole story of how he'd learned to make it from his mother. He'd made it so often when he was a young teen he could tell when it was ready to be taken off the heat just from the sounds it made boiling in the pot. With him there to guide me I made a batch that came out pretty close. It was certainly edible.
Today I made a batch, dripping syrup into a glass with cold water and testing for the 'soft ball' stage and trying to hear the sound change in the pot. It came out pretty good, the best I've done yet, but wow what a sugar rush.
I've done many of the things sons do with fathers, camping, fishing, going to ball games. I think making this candy is about the only thing I learned with him that I still do. A good memory that tastes good too.
We all looked forward to this time of year, for the special cookies we'd have, but even more for the candy my Dad would make. We couldn't help with that. It seemed like magic, he'd be at the stove (the only time we'd see him at the stove was when he made candy) watching a pot boil then suddenly taking the pot off the burner, plopping butter and nuts in and stirring hard then pouring it all out in a glass pan. Soon we'd all get one piece of candy about an inch cubed. It was heavenly.
I've tried to make this candy (Pinoche) off and on since I was fourteen. Occasionally I'd get something close to his product, but most often I'd get a rather gritty syrup. Not bad as an ice cream topping, but not the candy I remembered.
Last spring when he was visiting I asked him to teach me how to make it right, and I got the whole story of how he'd learned to make it from his mother. He'd made it so often when he was a young teen he could tell when it was ready to be taken off the heat just from the sounds it made boiling in the pot. With him there to guide me I made a batch that came out pretty close. It was certainly edible.
Today I made a batch, dripping syrup into a glass with cold water and testing for the 'soft ball' stage and trying to hear the sound change in the pot. It came out pretty good, the best I've done yet, but wow what a sugar rush.
I've done many of the things sons do with fathers, camping, fishing, going to ball games. I think making this candy is about the only thing I learned with him that I still do. A good memory that tastes good too.
