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• #Chocolate fudge with condensed milk full#

yeah I’m old, peeps) as she was feeling his face, pulling up his lip, his nose to see where the “blood” was coming from.įolks I thought my mother was going to beat that man with a brick. Mom was ready to call an ambulance (this was pre-911. On the side of his face, his nose, around his mouth, down his chin and all of his pillow is this huge dark stain/spot.

#Chocolate fudge with condensed milk full#

My Dad is lying there out of it, eyes all full of sleep – dazed and confused. She starts screaming in fright, all the lights go on in the house and I run downstairs to see what’s going on. So anyway Mom walks into the bedroom when all of a sudden she let out the mother of all shrieks. In my parent’s bedroom, they kept a small nightlight on – one it helped light the room so when my Mom went to bed she wouldn’t stub her toe walking in and two if I got scared I could go into their bedroom and get them up. So around 2 am Mom went into her bedroom and what happened next, well let’s just say I’m surprised no one got beaten to a pulp or had a heart attack from fright. Now, Mom was a night owl and Dad was in bed early. Now full disclosure – Mom always made him his own so it’s not like he went without but there’s something more desirable when you’re told you can’t have something. She’d whack him with the wooden spoon and threaten to beat him in his sleep if he touched the fudge. However, just like clockwork, when she’d pull it out of the fridge hours later my Dad would be there buzzing around like a bee to honey. I simply didn’t have the arm muscles to mix it.ĭad wasn’t allowed to help her as he’d eat it straight out of the pot – mixed or not. Now one thing I didn’t help her make was her fudge. Now I did my best to help her out without being all up under her feet and eating all of the raw cookie dough.

It was about the week before Christmas and Mom had a slew of cookies and fudge orders to get done. So I made both batches and he loves this one more.īut let me get back to my Mom and how she almost had a coronary and I think made up curse words because she was so mad! ‘Twas the week before Christmas and Mom was up to her elbows in fudge He is just as big of a fudge-hound as my Dad was. You see when they say “a girl marries a man like her father” I truly believe that as my husband is so similar to my Dad in so many ways it’s uncanny. I’m going to be completely honest here, I personally think this tastes better. Finally, the boys would come in and help her stir it which meant for them if they helped her stir it, they got to clean out the pot for themselves. That’s where my brothers came in to play as she’d stand over the stove stirring sometimes with all of her might cursing under her breath so I would hear (even though I heard every word *giggle*). What I did, instead was take her laborious recipe that required muscles and a pretty intense upper arm workout. So this recipe is a spin on my Mom’s famous fudge recipe. But let me talk a bit more about this fudge recipe. Well, Dad got wise to this and well…let me tell you a little story about fudge and my Dad.

I can remember her hiding containers of fudge in my baby doll stroller, underneath the blankets and then it got so bad that she started stashing containers of it in my Barbie Doll case, underneath my clothes in my closet waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay back in the corner and in pretty much anything that could act as a hiding spot in my room. However my Dad… oh my darling sweet father was a Fudge Fanatic! No people you don’t understand! My Mom would have to hide the fudge from him, even the ones she had orders for because that man loved it THAT MUCH!

If given the choice between fudge and a cookie, the cookies won out every single time.įor me, it was just too rich. Now I’ll be honest, I was never a huge fan of fudge. Mom made all types though her most requested was plain chocolate and toasted walnut. Some are rock stars at making steaks, others crush it in the pie world. Now any chef, albeit home or professionally trained has their specialty area. She wasn’t a professionally trained chef but she could produce meals that were flawless and truly delicious. Growing up there pretty much wasn’t anything my Mom couldn’t bake.