The Happy Dance Anyway

I made salted caramels this morning and finished just as the propane company came to add a smidgen more propane to the tank. It’s a good thing the caramels were cooling because if I lost the heat on the stove at the wrong moment someone was going to get hurt (the delivery person turns off the supply line when refilling the tank).

Our propane tank is small and we only use it to run the stove top, but that doesn’t stop our propane company from delivering or at least checking on us every time they are out in the area loading someone’s huge submarine-shaped tank. I predict we could use two deliveries a year, but that’s not up to me. He ended up checking the tank and leaving within about a minute. He shouldn’t have turned off the truck.

Where was I?

It’s been a long time since I made caramel. Maybe I’ve made sauce or butterscotch recently, if recently means in the last 10 years. I like candy. It never occurs to me to make it. Seriously, those two summers of making candy every day cured me.

As I was standing around waiting for 300+ degrees to register on the thermometer, I looked down at my right foot and admired the scar from a bad candy apple situation in the summer of 1987 or 1988. My partner and I were lifting a huge kettle to pour the mixture so we could dip apples. A bit dribbled out onto my foot. Thank god I wasn’t wearing a sock or I’d still be picking pieces of fabric and candy apple goo out of my skin. After that injury the socks with shoes rule was put into effect–I didn’t even go get first aid. Just cleaned up my foot and put a large band aid on it. It hurt like crap for a few days, but I lived.

Back to the story at hand. The caramel went slowly up to 310 degrees and oddly I didn’t have to wipe down the sides of the pot. That’s a lucky break. When I poured the milk/butter/salt/vanilla mixture into the sugar pan, there was one moment when I was seriously worried about boil over and how I’d be hating life all afternoon trying to pry that crap off the stove. Luckily, no worries.

Caramel cooling (with sea salt already applied):

By the way, I didn’t buy a fancy box of sea salt. I bought the grocery store brand–shocking, I know!

As I was letting the caramel cool, I realized it wasn’t really firming up. I think, perhaps, I didn’t take it to a high enough temperature. I guess it’s time for a new thermometer. I stuck the caramel into the refrigerator to see if that would help. It did not.

Sorry for the blur. The camera and caramel were downstairs. The tripod upstairs. One hand trying to focus and snap a picture. The other hand working the spoon. Third hand on vacation.

The taste is pretty freaking awesome. I’m not going to throw the batch out, but will put it into a jar for some other use. There are probably five pieces that turned out OK…I suppose those are from the very center of the pan and got the hottest.

I’ll try again and scout out other recipes to compare. And, the next time I go to the store, I’ll be getting another thermometer.

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1 Response to The Happy Dance Anyway

  1. Liz says:

    I have one of those scars on my left bicep from a bad curling iron incident. Hot sugar sounds way worse (although uncoordinated me still can’t and won’t do a curling iron).

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