Oh, hey there, guys. I hope everyone enjoyed the holidays and is adjusting to full weeks at the office again. (Don't worry, MLK Day is less than a week away!)
FACT: I am probably a person you want to know during the holidays.
As someone who looks for excuses to continually cook yummy things and pawn them off on other people, I feel that my life has most purpose November through January. Normally I rotate between cranberry-pistachio biscotti and homemade bourbon hot fudge as hand-outs for Boy's and my officemates and friends, but I made hot fudge for a second year in a row this year. It's not that the biscotti isn't life-changing in its own right, but the hot fudge seems to put people in a straight up frenzy. And let's not kid ourselves people, I love it. (I have always found people's chocolate addictions hilariously intriguing.)
This operation normally involves me destroying the kitchen and a handful of tea towels on a Sunday afternoon, but is all quickly forgotten over a bowl of vanilla ice cream topped with fresh hot fudge that evening. This year, however, Boy had a much longer list of folks that he wanted to thank due to a recent project at the office (an additional
18 people to be exact). Any normal person would have let him go buy the case and a half of wine that he had planned as gifts. Pas moi. No, for some reason, I convinced Boy that it would be a great idea to set aside an evening to make the 32 jars of hot fudge necessary to thank our colleagues for a great 2010.
We did it. I felt like a Keebler Elf in Scrooge's workshop, but we did it. It only took us four hours and we were still speaking by the end of it. I have to say though, it could have taken 24 hours and it still would have been worth the effort to hear all the ways people enjoy this stuff. I hereby promise I do not put crack in it, though you might think it from some of the stories that made it back to Boy and me.
"WOW. My wife sat with your hot fudge on her lap while watching TV last night. I at least put it on ice cream."
"I took it to my sisters house for a holiday dinner. There was pie and ice cream, but we ended up just passing the jar around with a spoon until it was gone. No one ate pie."
I know there are quite a few people that did not get fudge this year because I either did not see you this holiday season or was grossly unaware of your chocolate addiction. In either case, if I missed you and you can't live without some bourbon hot fudge (non-bourbon is also an option!) this season, drop me a note. I am trading hot fudge for Chardonnay.