Rolos in my drawer

There were two Rolos in my drawer.  “Were.”  Caramel, gooey, gone.

Cotton Candy

Cotton Candy.  Stick to the fingers.  Each bite stickier and sticker.  Each bite-careful, keep my fingers dry.  Cotton candy.

A Child of the 1970’s

Break the stale gum in a pack of Topps.  Reggie Jackson, Pete Rose.  Dad has just sprung for some cards and a Snickers for my brother and me with the change from his Hamilton for filling up the Mercury Monarch.

Caramel, Get Your Apples

Caramel.  Quite possibly the best thing ever invented.  It drips between cracks and oozes between kernels, sticking to fingers, sticking to the roof of our mouth.
Caramel makes the salty sweet with its golden kiss.  “Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack,” as I lick the golden goo off of my fingers.  I dig for my prize as the home team scores and shove the last heavenly bites of childhood into my mouth.  Caramel, so sweet.
My Sundae stands tall.  Golden drips hang in mid-air.  I catch them one by one with my elongated sundae spoon.  This is caramel.  Too slow to hit the ground, yet too fast to catch it all.  It dribbles down my chin, too good to wipe off.  Caramel.  Have you ever wondered what coats your Cracker Jack?  What drips down your sundae?  Certainly this is no earthly creation.
But it is.  Sugar or syrup when put over sufficient heat becomes caramelized.  The edges become golden, careful not to stick to the bottom of the copper kettle.  If even a morsel of your sugar burns, the entire concoction will taste acrid.  Keep stirring.  Your sugar is getting there.  Thicker and thicker-get some popcorn, I think we have some caramel.
I want to make caramel candies.  How does caramel finally obtain its gooey texture?  When butter and cream are added to caramelized sugar, it thickens and, once cooled, it can be stretched and cut into the candies we are all familiar with.  Time to get the apples.

Apple photo by Paolo Neo

Vanilla Nut Creme

Chewy

Gooey

Nutty

Good

Have another

I want to

Better Not, Should

Cinnamon Salt Water Taffy

I chew my taffy
Up and down
To the rhythm I step
Upon the boardwalk
Stuck to my fingers
Stuck to my tongue
Forty flavors
Mixed in my bag
Out pops cinnamon
Creek-creek I step
And gobble it up

Cinnamon Taffy watercolor by Andy Fletcher