While our volcano-impeded visitors were biding their time, they spent a day in Bath. As a thank-you to us for our continued hospitality, they brought us a box of fudge. On the outside of the box is written a promising:
Handmade Creamy Fudge
A delicious creamy fudge handmade in copper pans
Mmmm, doesn't that sound yummy? What flavor(flavour)? you ask. And well you may. Without qualification, "fudge" here means a sort of buttercream flavor. There are other flavors in fudge specialty(speciality) shops, but the generic pre-packaged bags and boxes of fudge chunks (often made with clotted cream) are this buttercream sort of flavor.
Wait, pre-packaged? Bags? Chunks?
Yes, you read right. It took me years to figure out, because I thought it had to do with the pre-packaged, not-freshly-made status of the fudge that gave it the, um, differing texture.
English fudge is not fudgy. Nor, despite the label on the box, is it creamy. Nope, it's dry and crumbly. I suffered (bring out the world's smallest violin, please) bags and boxes and cuttings and tastings of the stuff, pre-packaged to still-warm, and was disappointed each and every time. These poor people haven't tasted what real fudge is all about! Not surprising really, as it is apparently a US invention.
I contrast this crumbling confection to the fudge I purchased in Old Town Spring, Texas about a year or so ago. I really wanted some maple walnut fudge, so before we left the town, we stopped in the Little Dutch Girl, a Dutch gift shop with a sweets and fudge counter. We bought a few flavors, including maple walnut.
Should you ever get to Old Town Spring, I highly recommend you buy fudge at this shop. Yes, See's makes a lovely fudge, but it doesn't hold a candle to this stuff. Creamy, melt-in-your-mouth, not sickly sweet, perfection.
These guys should open a shop in Bath.
Fudge? Rocks? You decide.