There are giant pits along the path of life. Big, camouflaged, come-out-of-nowhere holes that trip you up and send you hurtling head-first into floundering What's-The-Point thoughts that rarely amount to anything constructive. They aren't always difficult to navigate out of, and sometimes you just stumble and stagger a little over them rather than fall fully in. But, they're there. Today, I hit one, and it had everything to do with food. This ugly, silly pothole opened up its sneaky covering just in time for me to go tumbling down, and I sat at the bottom of it for a little while, just observing my bleak surroundings. Around me were piles of uneaten, homemade cookies. Yes, today's pitfall was lined with delicious cookies - somehow, I imagine most of you reading this and thinking, "and she calls this a bad thing?"
It was the very fact that they were uneaten that I was so upset. Sometimes, I can't help but spiral down into a series of musings about why I even bother with cooking and baking. Clearly, the answer is always because I enjoy it. Because I don't like store-bought items nearly as much, the majority of the time. So, if no one else eats my food, the joy I get out of cooking and baking should not be affected. Still, no one ever said these pot holes provided environments that breed rationality. Also to my defense, another big reason that I love to cook and bake is that I want to share my work with others, help them enjoy the foods they eat - and maybe even one day open up my own cafe or bakery where people will come in from the neighborhood to share my food with good company.
My food often goes uneaten. People can ooh and ahh all they want about the sight and smell of my treats in the oven; they can rave to me over the first bite. But then the next day, and the day after that, they sit in their tupperware containers, sadly watching people choose Chips Ahoy and Klondike Bars for dessert over them. A week goes by, and their freshness is stolen by what little oxygen can squeeze its way into their plastic abode, and I find myself faced with the difficult decision of finding some quick, creative way to use them up, or tossing them into the trash. Usually, when my back is turned so that the frugal penny-pincher in me can't protest, my mom puts the past-their-prime desserts out of their misery.
It all depresses me if I get too bogged down in it. I know the food I make tastes good. I know other people like it. I understand that if I make a batch of brownies, people won't devour them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I understand that sometimes, you just don't want a brownie. Or dessert at all (though this last notion is decidedly more difficult for me to grasp). But it really feels that people have some sort of prejudice against my food, no matter how emphatic they are to my face. So, even if I love the process of creating, tweaking, or just choosing a recipe, gathering the ingredients and combining them, and displaying the finished product in an aesthetically pleasing manner...the sinking realization that people aren't eating them is difficult to ignore.When I find it particularly challenging to turn a blind eye to this particular elephant in the room, I question whether or not I should even keep cooking and baking (aside from what's necessary for me to, you know, not starve).
Cue this recipe for fudge. You see, I debated what to write about today. I even considered not writing at all, as I perused my backlogged notes of recipes and couldn't muster the spirit to be enthusiastic about any of them in the context of today's trivial little setback. But then, I found my notes on this Peanut Truffle Fudge. I don't have any pictures - I apologize for that - but have to post them anyway. You see, I had no trouble getting people to eat these pieces of fudge. I didn't even have trouble convincing people to take some home with them. And I certainly didn't have trouble finishing off the few measly pieces that were left after the event that I had made them for. I figured, upon rereading my notes on them, that picture or not, these were the desserts I needed to focus on today. These dense, achingly simple, indulgently rich bars of chocolate pocked with lightly salted peanuts and chilled to perfection are not only enough to make anyone smile, but they're also enough to remind even the shabbiest of chefs that they, too, can do something right. I don't particularly like the idea of an ego-boost, but if I did, that's what I'd be calling these. You can't go wrong with three ingredients, particularly when those three ingredients are cream, chocolate, and peanuts.
So although I still don't have any constructive ways of pulling myself up out of these Why-Even-Bother pits, or avoiding them altogether in the first place, I can suggest that if you, too, find yourself in one, find your Decadent, Rich, Ridiculously Easy Chocolate Peanut Truffle Fudge Recipe - the one that reminds you that life is by no means consistently disappointing, and you, too, can make something absolutely unforgettable.
I really didn't change a thing about the recipe, aside from altering the details of the ingredients slightly based on what I had on hand (heavy cream instead of half-n-half, a mixture of milk- and semi-sweet chocolate chips, lightly salted instead of regularly salted peanuts), I don't have a pretty picture to entice you, and I blathered on for a long time about things utterly unrelated to Peanuts, Truffles, or Chocolate Fudge. So, I will simply tell you to follow the link below to find Pure Happiness in the form of a dessert, and to anyone out there experiencing a troubling day - no matter how petty your disappointments may seem to you or anyone else - just remember...keep on keepin' on. You'll make it out alive, I promise.
