Dontcha just love it when people say, "Oh, you have to try this, but I'm not going to tell you what's in it until you taste it."
Then the whole time you're chewing your mind is going wild, thinking of pig snouts and monkey brains.
This weekend my friend P.L. came over toting a big bucket of homemade goodies. There was a chocolate fruit and nut bark, a white chocolate praline confection, some toffee and, at the bottom, a whole bunch of fudge made with a mystery ingredient.
"It's a Paula Deen recipe," she said, so immediately I knew that there was at least four sticks of butter, a cup of lard and three pounds of sugar in it.
I tried it. The texture was very nice, very smooth. The taste was very sweet (like almost all fudge) and it reminded me of penuche. I liked it. Until she told me the "secret": Velveeta.
Now, on the scale of gross things to eat, Velveeta hardly ranks up there with say, a scorpion (which I've eaten) or foie gras (which, as a food writer I should love but just find repulsive), but still ... there's just something about cheese "product" in candy that stimulates my gag reflex. Here's the link to the recipe if you're feeling brave.
