Church of No, Thanks Celebrating Personal Liberty since 2008

Fudge is symbolic. It is also tasty. It is simple in concept, but tricky to make in practice. It is rich (sweet and fatty) and therefore demands moderation. Its origins are somewhat mysterious, but most of the folklore surrounding its origins point to the first batch being a failed attempt at making caramel.

Many of the things we value most highly are things which are simple in concept but require training and practice (sometimes years of it) to be able to get it right consistently. Fudge is like that, in that the people who've mastered a technique for making really good fudge need an intuitive understanding of the chemistry involved, how both ambient and cooking conditions effect the final product. They need to have a "feel" for the texture and consistency of the batch in-process to know when to move on to the next stage. They need to know how to move the fudge as it cools to give it the desired consistency and mouth feel. Making good fudge involves scientific principles, but also requires an artist's intuition.

Fudge is OK to eat in small amounts but when over-consumed, it can quickly overwhelm the body's ability to function properly. Most fudge recipes call for 3:1 ratio by volume of sugar to milk (or more commonly half-and-half), with an additional heaping helping of butter. All that sugar can overwhelm the body's ability to metabolize it, impacting the pancreas, the kidneys and brain chemistry. The fat brought to the table by the dairy products can wreak havoc on the circulatory system (including the heart) and liver. Still, in moderation, fudge (for those that enjoy it... and who doesn't enjoy fudge?) is a tasty, satisfying treat.

Where does fudge come from? Good question. Unfortunately a definitive answer is elusive. It is one of life's great mysteries, but just because it is a mystery does not mean it does not exist. The real origins of fudge appear to be lost to the mists of time, but most of the folklore points to fudge being a happy accident, taking place somewhere in the United States, at some time in the 19th century. In that sense, fudge is like jazz or photography or steam engines... there are many stories of their origins. Some attribute an individual with the invention, and some don't. They don't all agree, and, really, it doesn't matter. Fudge is also like people. The human race started a long time ago, probably in Africa. Does it matter exactly which protohuman first came down from the trees or walked erect? No, not really. It's interesting to know, if we can find it out, but the knowledge, in and of itself, doesn't change how we live today. It is good to know history, but to quibble over inconsequential details is a wast of time. Enjoy the fudge.

In The Church of No, Thanks, fudge is the symbol we use to commune with humanity, its history and its happy accidents. We do so in moderation, as excessive communion overwhelms the individual.