I don't really like chocolate. It's good, don't get me wrong, but I don't much crave it like I know some of you do out there. I've seen grown women shove little kids aside upon witnessing chocolates fall out of a piñata. I've seen women drag sleepy trick-or-treating toddlers through neighborhoods in a ravenous hunger for chocolate. These are the same women who chastise their kids for eating-too-many-candies-and-it's-late-so-go-to-bed-now, so they can sort through their kids' loot and "borrow" chocolate. ("It's not stealing," they tell themselves.) I've seen women buy bags of Halloween candy in September, and I've seen them rush to the store on October 30th to replace the mysteriously missing candy. I'm not one of those women.
My confectionery weakness is caramel.
Caramel [kar-uh-mel] is the golden lava that oozes out of the mountains of heaven. It's buttery chewiness both teases and indulges my tastebuds. I get to eat some now, and I get some later when I've been able to dislodge the bits that get stuck in my teeth. If it weren't for caramel, chocolate bars would be largely ignored. Rolos, Twix, Snickers. They attribute their success to caramel.
Jennica recently posted an ingenious caramel apple idea. Regular-sized caramel apples have one and only one downfall: too much apple. Once you eat the caramel armor, all you have left is a huge non-caramel orb. This recipe improves the caramel to fruit ratio, if anything, erring on the side of caramel.
I quickly employed this recipe idea. I melted the caramel cubes I managed to spare during the unwrapping stage, dipped my mini apples, and placed the treats on a wax paper sheet to set.
Either I used the wrong side of the wax paper, or I used the wrong side of the wax paper because after removing the apples, there were thick, voluptuous caramel footprints. I tried scraping the tan mounds off with a knife, but there were still copious amounts of chewy streaks being left behind. I grabbed the paper and dragged my teeth across the lavish remnants. Delicious soft stretches of caramel stuck to my chin. I'd get them later; at the moment, the big globs took priority.
The tooth shoveling method worked to an extent, but the caramel was firmly adhered to the paper, and the paper began to rip.
I don't usually eat paper.
I found that I'll make an exception for caramel.
Within seconds, bits of goo and paper were stuck to my nose, my hair, my hands. Feverishly, I bit and licked and searched for the best hold to each caramel mine. My kitchen windows fogged up. Had someone shown up at my door during this sugary make-out session, I would not have wiped my hands and face off before answering. No way would I have allowed precious golden caramel to be rinsed down the drain! Sure, my doorknob would have gotten sticky, but nothing a good licking couldn't fix. For caramel, I am not ashamed.
Now, excuse me, there's a keyboard that needs cleaning.
[Posted song: "Caramel" by Suzanne Vega]