29 August 2013
“I combed Duncan.” (I must have looked puzzled.) “With a comb. He looks cool. And hot. Not like temperature.”
We made saltwater taffy when I got home from work yesterday. It turned out to be hard candy. Rock hard. But it’s pink and it tastes like buttery cherry lifesavers. I’m calling it a success.
I read the recipe aloud. Enzo listened and then said, “I think we need to make a small tiny change.” Normally I’m all in favor of small tiny changes. I’ve never followed a recipe in my life. But I’d never made candy before. I’d never handled tiny vials of artificial flavoring or used a candy thermometer.
“What small tiny change?”
“My syrups. You know for sno-cones?”
“What about them?”
“We need to add some of those.”
We went back and forth and finally agreed that when it came to the cooling and pulling stage, we would divide the candy in half, and in his half he could add sno-cone syrup. (By the way, it worked fine, if you like your hard candy to have a sticky layer of apple/watermelon/cherry/blue raspberry on the outside.)
We measured and mixed sugar, cornstarch, butter, water, salt then brought it slowly to a ferocious boil. We watched the red line on the thermometer go up and up and up. It was a hot afternoon, and heat rose from the bubbling cloudy liquid.
“What would you rather do, get burned or get killed by a full-grown Komodo dragon?”
“Get burned I guess.”
“A full-grown Komodo dragon weighs (some number) kilograms. And yes, kilograms.”
This morning—just now—Enzo and I were starting to play Bakugan, which I totally don’t know how to do and he totally didn’t want to do because it was standing between him and his rightful TV. But we’d made the plan the night before while reading a book about Bakugan characters, and I was by god going to follow through on the plan. We were sitting on the living room floor in the early morning half-dark. I was wearing pajama bottoms and a bra. He was wearing nothing but checked boxer shorts that looked enormous on him.
Teresa passed by and said, “We only play Bakugan shirtless?”
“It’s still kind of hot,” I said.
“Hot as in, not burning hot,” said Enzo, “But as in hot, man!”
He actually is pretty hot with his strong lean brown body. A few days ago Magnus informed him that both of them have six packs. And so they do.