How My Mother’s Caramel Recipe Taught Me to Be Braver in the Kitchen

I watched from my step stool as my mother fearlessly
stirred the bubbling sugar.
It was time to pour the cream
in—this part always scared me. The mixture ascended into a golden
smolder as the cold cream hit the hot sugar. I watched nervously as
my mother tamed the cauldron with a wooden spoon. I was wearing my
Batman pajamas, a uniform she insisted on after one too many
sugar-stained shirts. I sat in awe as the sugar transformed into
liquid amber and the occasional puff of smoke wafted into the
air.

“This is how you know it’s done cooking,” my mother told
me as the distinct scent of burnt sugar perfumed the kitchen.
“The darker the color, the deeper the flavor.”

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Source: FS – All – Food – News
How My Mother’s Caramel Recipe Taught Me to Be Braver in the Kitchen