I’ve taken two Excedrin Migraine pills this morning, and so far they’ve proven themselves worthless. As such, here are my favorite spam comments of the last week or so:
And now I will go huddle under the covers in the dark.
(Oh, no I won’t. But I will wish that I could.)
Butterfingers play a starring role in one of my earliest memories: My dad came home from work, I ran to greet him in the kitchen, he scooped me up and pulled a Butterfinger from the inside pocket of his denim jacket. That’s probably one of the reasons it’s my favorite candy bar. And also I really like the way the unearthly orange stuff within kind of crackles and bursts when you bite into it. It’s not a candy bar for those who have an aversion to crumbs. It is, however, a candy bar for those who believe in deliciousness.
Is it any surprise that “Make Butterfingers” hopped onto my Mighty List minutes after I saw Plain Chicken’s recipe for them? No, no it is not.
What is a surprise is that it took me so long to notice that I had all three ingredients that the recipe requires on hand. Yeah, that’s right: All three ingredients. Candy corn, peanut butter and chocolate. This recipe really couldn’t be easier.
First, you melt some candy corn in the microwave. The Plain Chicken recipe says you need a pound, but I didn’t have a pound left from Halloween. This is the best use I’ve ever found for the stuff, but apparently someone in my household feels otherwise. The candy corn supplies were pretty low.
Once the candy corn is melted, stir in some peanut butter. Again, the recipe called for a pound. I just used equal parts melted candy corn + PB. You’ll need to some strength and fast hands to stir them together, because the candy corn starts to harden again pretty quickly.
Once the candy corn and peanut butter are well blended, you pour the mixture into a parchment-lined pan. Then you walk away and ignore it for awhile. Which is for the best, because right now it looks like something you don’t want to eat.
After waiting a little while (an hour, maybe? I don’t remember), I flipped the mixture out onto a cutting board and sliced it into not-terribly-huge bars. Then I melted some Wilton chocolate Candy Melts and coated them. I think chocolate chips would work, too, but I had the Wilton stuff leftover from making Pete’s birthday cake.
The bars look delightfully flaky in the middle, but in fact they are not so crumbly. They’re much chewier than a “real” Butterfinger. They taste good, but I missed the crispity-crunchity texture. Rockford and the kids loved them. (Although Rockford did mourn the candy corn. Weirdo.)
I took Poppy with me yesterday when I voted, and so we spent more time than usual talking about how the U.S. government works. (The usual amount being: Not really at all.) Before we went in, she asked if we’d be voting for Barack Obama. I explained to her that this wasn’t a presidential election, so that wouldn’t be an option. She was sad to hear that, because she loves Obama. She doesn’t know anything about his policies or anything like that, so I asked her what it is that she likes about him.
“He wears fancy ties,” she said, “and he speaks very proudly.”
There are, I suppose, worse reasons to back a candidate.
We talked a little bit about the one issue that would be on our ballot — a tax increase that would benefit a local community college — as we drove over to vote. She decided she was in favor of it. We also talked about how to decide which candidate will get your vote.
“You examine the candidates’ views on the issues that are important to you,” I told her, “and then you vote for the one you think will do the best job. Even if that person isn’t wearing the fanciest tie.”
“I saw that coming,” she said.
Soon we’re going to delve into U.S. government a little further. I’m trying to find a good elementary-age book or two to read together, and I’m going to help her make a list of the issues she thinks are most important. And then we’ll start looking at presidential candidates. Don’t be surprised to find a 6-year-old canvassing your neighborhood for her favorite candidate. The kid is passionate about her causes.
