Fudge is not only difficult, but it's also old-fashioned. And how could I not take on an old-fashioned challenge? They're simply irresistible. Last night I made my sixth batch of chocolate fudge, and I am proud to say that I finally cracked the code. The only fudge recipe that works for me is nowhere to be found other than my own recipe blog. Now, it's important to give credit where credit is due. If you search for a fudge recipe that does not use sweetened condensed milk, evaporated milk, corn syrup, or marshmallows of any kind, you'll be left with one recipe and one recipe only. It is Hershey's Rich Cocoa Fudge. According to that link, this recipe was originally published on Hershey's cocoa cans in the 1960's. I've made it, and it works just fine. The problem is that it doesn't yield enough fudge to create eight enormous, towering, deadly cubes. It's unlikely I'd ever eat a piece that big in one sitting, but that's the kind of fudge I aim to create.
I Said Towering
Deadly!
Back to what I was saying. Hershey's didn't have the goal of making fudge portions that can kill you, and they warn you not to double their recipe. I've written and asked why, but I'm sure that knowledge disappeared in the 60's. I've tried doubling their recipe a few times. It kind of works, but there are some problems. For one, it easily bubbles over, even in my six quart pot. That's a lot of bubbling. For another, it separates during the boil, and you're not supposed to stir it. Making fudge is all about waiting and stirring and not stirring. In fact, here's what you need to know.
1. Put sugar, cocoa, salt, and milk in a pot on the stove.
2. Stir it a lot until it boils.
3. Don't stir it at all until it gets really hot.
4. Remove it from heat, and add butter and vanilla.
5. Don't stir it at all until it gets cool.
6. Stir it a lot and pour it into a mold.
See? Step 3 is where the disaster happens every time. I don't stir my enormous pot of fudge, it separates into two different textures, and several hours later, the whole thing has set up as grainy as the inside of Milli's sandbox boots. The first thing I had to do was override the wisdom of our grandmother's generation, and that's a hard step to take. I decided that it's okay to stir in step 3. But I'm trusting them on step 5.
The other problem with fudge, generally speaking, is that it's nothing but melted sugar, so it's not that fun to eat. Sugar tastes better with more fat and more salt. My recipe swaps the milk out for half and half and doubles the salt. The half and half has the added benefit of creating a thicker mixture from the beginning that doesn't readily boil over and also separates less easily. It's like I killed three birds with one stone, but instead, I did something not so mean.
I also change both temperatures. I boil to 236 instead of 234 (both of which are in the lower range of the soft ball stage of candy making) with the notion that the fudge will continue to set up stiffly, even with the added fat content. Secondly, I let the fudge cool to 112 instead of 110 because instead of beating it with a wooden spoon, I put it into the cold bowl of a stand mixer. I need to make sure that after the cooling of the transfer, the rapid cooling of the paddle, and the further cooling of add-ins like toasted pecans, the fudge will still be warm enough to pour into a mold. If it's too stiff, it doesn't flow into the corners of the mold, and what kind of person goes through the trouble of making fudge only to have it come out ugly? As I already said, fudge is inherently too sweet, so it had better at least look nice.
Molded to Parchment Paper
Eat Your Heart Out
