Lumpy Fudge

I’m on a mini-vacation so reworked one of my favorite guest posts I wrote for The Kitchen Witch.

When a parent decides to become a better cook, all recipes and cookbook she looks at should flash with a warning:

Let’s take the day I decide to make my friend’s easy-to-make fudge:

    • 1 package (16 oz) of chocolate chips (the better the chocolate, the better the fudge, so don’t buy the generic stuff)
    • 1 can of sweetened condensed milk (14 oz)
    • 1 tablespoon of butter (optional)

Heat chocolate chips, butter and condensed milk in microwave in 30 second intervals until melted, stirring well each time.
Pour into deep pan lined with wax paper or parchment.
Chill for at least 2 hours.
NOTE: Do not over cook. (She said this multiple times so I took it very seriously.)

I put the ingredients on a grocery list just before Christmas thinking this would be a fun project during our holiday break. By “listing the correct ingredients” I mean “writing white chocolate chips” because my son and I do not like milk or dark chocolate at all. I also mean “forgetting to list the other main ingredient: sweet condensed milk.” Basically, I got BUTTER right.

I notice my mistake the following week and decide to stay quiet about the fudge. In the process, I stay quiet about needing the can of condescended milk and move on to other crafty holiday projects like reindeer handprints and choreographed Christmas songs.

In March, I notice this delicious bag of white chocolate chips, and I think of my friend’s fudge. And I say the vocal equivalent of digging my grave: HEY KIDS! LET’S MAKE FUDGE.

YAYAYAYAYAYAY fills my home.

I pull out the chocolate and the recipe. While my kids munch on the chips, my stomach sinks at the ingredients list: a bag of chocolate chips, butter, sweet condensed milk. I scan my pantry for sweet milk just in case a packet of sloppy joe spices made condensed babies with the walnuts that have lived on the shelves for years.

I turn to Google for substitutes.

I am pleasantly surprised by how many recipes for a homemade version of sweet condensed milk exist until I realize every recipe calls for a can of evaporated milk. Guess what foodies? If I don’t have sweet condensed milk, I probably don’t have evaporated milk just hanging around waiting for its time to shine.

My kids are getting restless and plying them with chips is not enough. The drums begin: FUDGEFUDGEFUDGE.

I take matters into my own blender and decide to make sweet condensed milk with low-fat milk, sugar and hot water from my Keurig.

I mixed it all up, throw in the rest of the chocolate, pop it in the microwave then the fridge and announce like the optimistic moron that I am: When you wake up in the morning, we’ll have fudge!

I should’ve at least ended that sentence in a question mark because at the 2-hour-of-required-refrigerated-fudge-recipe time, the kids are asleep and the fudge is more like a frozen lake. One which is very unsafe. In other words, I have a single layer congealed fudge-ish on the top and liquid goo underneath.

I made the global warming of fudge.

I stir and re-refrigerate hoping the kids don’t ask about the fudge in the morning. They don’t, but the next day, I determinedly dip some strawberries in it like I meant to make lumpy fondue and end up sick to my stomach.

Yes, lumpy fudge actually is as good as it looks. I was not able to pull off the looks bad, tastes good usual Alex creation. I mourn for those white chocolate chips lost.

The moral of the story is possibly:

Don’t make your own sweet condensed milk.
Don’t eat my cooking.
Send fudge.

Probably the latter.

Alex Iwashyna
PO Box 17952
Richmond, VA 23226

But email me first. I haven’t check my PO Box in 4 months, which is probably how long I should’ve left my lumpy fudge in the fridge.

Alex Iwashyna

Alex Iwashyna went from a B.A. in philosophy to an M.D. to a SAHM, poet and writer by 30. She spends most of her writing time on, a humor blog (except when it's serious) about her husband fighting zombies, awkward attempts at friendship, and dancing like everyone is watching. She also has a soft spot for culture, politics, and rude Southern people who offend her Yankee sensibilities. She parents 2 elementary-aged children, 1 foster baby, 3 cats, and 1 puppy, who are all Southern but not rude. Yet.

9 thoughts to “Lumpy Fudge”

  1. Baking substitutions slay me. The substitutions always involve other ingredients I don’t have, sending me into a rabbit whole of googling things like “make your own cream of tartar” and such ridiculousness.

    And now I want fudge. But not the lumpy kind.

  2. What?!?! You don’t like milk or dark chocolate? But… why? It’s so delicious.
    I was out of sweetened condensed milk and thought I’d give making it myself a shot. I had the ingredients but it looked like it would take way more time & effort so I said forget it and put everything away!

  3. Oh my, lumpy fudge sounds so wrong!

    This is sort of like the “cookie in a mug” i tried to make in the microwave. The recipe said to nuke it for 40 seconds, but it was still liquidy, so I did it for another minute…and it pretty much turned to sand.

  4. I’ve only attempted to make fudge once in my life, and it turned out hard enough to substitute as hockey pucks. So, I feel ya on the “failing at fudge” thing.

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