Ugh. I’m really sorry to have to do this to you. Really.
Because I’m sure you have plans tonight and all, that include like, watching six episodes of Friends, eating a dinner of crackers, cheese and wine and then not doing laundry and not cleaning the bathroom.
Especially if you are my clone.
But you must cancel those plans.
Because now you’re going to make fudge.
Truuuuuuust me on this one. I don’t love fudge either. I know. I mean, it’s delicious and all, and I love a few (thousand) bites, but it’s rarely what I choose to make in a dire moment of emotional baking and rarely what I choose to eat in the often hours of emotional eating.
Know what I’m saying? Stacy’s pita chips and m&m’s covering a peanut butter spoon work wonders there.
Fudge is simply soooo chocolatey and rich that when all you want to do is chew, chew, chew, it isn’t the best drug of choice.
But that’s neither here nor there.
THIS fudge needs to be made.
That’s really all I can tell you at the moment as I’m still somewhat sidelined on the couch with my BFF Kleenex and my old friend, Pinot Noir. Well, that and uh, what the heck is going on with Liam and Annie on 90210? Wow. Is that Vinny? And seriously, how WEIRD was it that my boyfriend Michael Buble was on TV last night?! Cahrazy. And can they just make Neil Patrick Harris the new Regis now? Cutie patootie he is. And I’d like to live inside the Home Alone movies. Still.
For basically my entire existence, Mother Lovett insisted on making this two-toned butterscotch/chocolate fudge, even though every year we begged her to make a two-toned peanut butter/chocolate fudge. And every year we watched that two-toned butterscotch/chocolate fudge turn to lumps of coal on her cookie plates because no.one.liked.it. And she never made the peanut butter fudge. Stubborn much?
She froze it anyway. She packed it in with the thumbprints of stone and froze it for years. She brought it out mid-July where is sat and still wouldn’t melt in 90-degree temps. FYI: rocks don’t melt.
For some reason, butterscotch has never been on my radar. Totally weird, I know, with the whole “butter” thing and all. I’m sure some day down the line I’ll develop an obsession with it, create approximately five or six recipes with a butterscotch focus to bombard you with, never to mention it again. It’s just how I roll.
And I’m pretty sure I’m too old to say that. Gag me.
Mocha coconut it is!
I don’t do homemade gifts, but if I did, I 100% absolutely for sure would want to give this to someone. But I’d probably eat it all first. I guess I could just gift it to myself? Oh wait. Already did that.
Mocha Coconut Fudge
Yield: makes one 8x8 pan
12 ounces semisweet chocolate, chopped
12 ounces white baking chocolate, chopped
1 can (15oz) sweetened condensed milk
1 1/2 tablespoons espresso powder (or instant coffee)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 1/2 teaspoons coconut extract
1 tablespoon coconut oil
1/2 cup flaked coconut, toasted
Spray an 8×8 pan with non-stick spray.
Add semisweet chocolate to a double boiler, and melt completely. One melted, add in half of the sweetened condensed milk, the vanilla, the coffee powder and 1/2 tablespoon of coconut oil. Stir with a spatula until combined and fairly smooth, then spread evenly in the bottom of the pan. Mixture will be thick. Place in the freezer for 30 minutes.
Add white chocolate to a double boiler and melt completely. Add in remaining condensed milk, coconut oil and coconut extract, stirring until combined. Remove fudge from freezer and add white chocolate on top, spreading evenly to coat. Top with toasted coconut, then chill in the refrigerator for 60-90 minutes.
When ready to cut, fill a large cup with hot water. Dip a sharp knife into the water, then blot on a towel. Use knife to cut fudge into your desired size of squares.
Note: the melting can also be done in the microwave. I suggest melting the chocolate first on medium power in 30 second increments, stirring after each time. Once melted, add in remaining ingredients and stir until smooth. You can also use this Lindt Coconut White Chocolate for the coconut layer.
[adapted from mother lovett's 3 minute fudge]