So, I’m standing at the check-out of one of them new, “old fashioned” general stores, clutching a bag of penny candy, when I suddenly spy the fudge counter. What a dilemma!
The Women Who Run With the Moose (me and my friends Celeste, Rita, Betty, Dot and Shirley) take field trips from time to time, and we were on our way home from a whirlwind shopping excursion to the outlet malls in North Conway. Plum tuckered out from all that bargain hunting, we needed a little nourishment to fuel our trip back to Mahoosuc Mills. That’s when the store appeared right on cue. We piled out of Shirley’s Bonneville and went in search of sustenance.
I by-passed the “I Heart New Hampshire” t-shirts and balsam pillows, and went straight for the penny candy. I love penny candy. It reminds me of when I was a kid. Feeling nostalgic, I selected three each of Mary Janes, Squirrels, Bulls Eyes, and mini Tootsie Rolls. (I like to alternate one of each kind to keep the taste fresh.) For good measure, I grabbed a York Peppermint Patty to cleanse my palette.
I was all set to check out when I spied the fudge counter. Don’t do it, I’m thinking, but my feet just started walking in that direction. Though momentarily distracted by the Snickers fudge, I found what I was looking for. Yes! Second flavor from the left: penuche with walnuts!
My father’s sister, Georgiana, always gave us a box of penuche fudge with walnuts at Christmas time. I’ve never tasted anything quite like that fudge. It was heavenly! Not only that, it was blessed by the church. See, Georgiana was a nun, and because she made the fudge with the other nuns she lived with, we referred to it as “holy fudge”.
I’ll just get a taste, I’m thinking. Then, I saw the sign: “Quarter pound minimum.”
I knew I couldn’t get both the penny candy and the fudge. Chances are, I’d demo all of it before we hit the outskirts of Mahoosuc Mills. Then, I might as well just fire up my boom and fly home. Too much sugar gives me a headache and makes me wicked cranky. The last time I went on a sugar bender, Charlie says, “Ida, candy may take you back to your childhood, but all it takes me back to are the days of PMS.”
I stared at the penuche. “How much is a quarter pound?” I ask.
“About like this.” The woman behind the counter pointed to a piece that didn’t look all that big.
“I’ll trade you this penny candy for a quarter pound of penuche with walnuts,” I says. I figured the protein and anti-oxidants in the nuts would kind of balance things out.
“Would you like a little knife?” the women asks.
At first, I had to think about what she meant. Then, I got it. “Oh, a little knife so I can share. Sure,” I says. (Not likely, I’m thinking. The Women Who Run With the Moose share a lot of things, but dessert’s not one of them.)
When I got in the car, as much as I wanted to just bite off a hunk of the fudge, I decided not to. I would be civilized, cut myself a moderate piece of penuche and close the bag up. Pace myself. I took a taste. That fudge was so sweet it kind of made the glands behind my ears ache. It didn’t taste quite like holy fudge, but close enough.
I cut off another small piece and ate it. And another. By the time we reached Mahoosuc Mills, half the penuche was gone, and I was cultivating a dull headache.
I walk into our house, and Cora greeted me with her usual “I never thought I’d see you again!” excitement. Give me some space, I’m thinking. Then, when Charlie didn’t tear himself away from the evening news, I could feel the irritation building. The least he could do is get up and say hello! Oh, and look, he didn’t even sort the mail! What a surprise!. And boy, I knew was in trouble.
Before slicing off another piece of penuche, I take the bag into the bathroom, and using the little knife, I cut the fudge into chunks, and flush ‘em down the toilet.
See, I couldn’t just throw the bag of fudge in the trash because (and I’m not proud of this) when it comes to sweets, I’ve been known to return to the trash, dig out the bag, open it up and continue where I left off.
That’s it for now. Catch you on the flip side!
Hear Ida Tell It: Holy Fudge