Sugar Savvy

PENUCHE

Pronounciation: Pe noo chay.

Definition: brown sugar fudge. “The Fudge Equivalent of Mystery Meat.”

People, I’ve found, either TOTALLY know what it is, or have never heard of it at all. Until a couple of months ago, I, myself, did not know. Now I can’t seem to stop thinking about it. When Faith and Jaay did the Five Days of Fudge in February, I somehow ended up on some penuche blog (Of course there is a penuche blog. Why wouldn’t there be a penuche blog?) where they were all commenting on their favorite penuche recipes, memories, thoughts regarding its origin, etc. Being that I have a deep passion for brown sugar - not that I would ever turn up my nose at a piece (or six) of traditional chocolate fudge - this mysterious candy seemed to be the confectionary equivalent of my long-lost soul mate. Where had you been all my life, little penuche?

And even more recently, on Cynthia’s post about Cooking English Toffee Without An Engineer, I commented on my penuche mission, to which she, in turn, suggested that I check out the penuche scene.

In all honesty, I’d actually seen the word “penuche” many, many times as a child, but from one, solitary source: my New Betty Crocker Boys and Girls Cookbook.
Flipping through the pages, (which I did quite regularly), I would always pass by a recipe for “Easy Peunche Frosting” on one of the pages, pronouncing it “pen-oosh” in my mind. I didn’t know what it was and I never again saw or heard reference to it in any other context. This cookbook, incidentally, is a real gem, and definitely the genesis of my deep-rooted love of baking and sweets, as well as cooking in general. That is, if you consider canned pear halves and cottage cheese “bunny salad” to be cooking. When you’re seven, it definitely qualifies.
(Side note: it’s a real cute Easter recipe for the little’uns, no?)

So, it turns out, penuche is pretty much a New England and/or Southern delicacy, according to the posts I’ve been reading from its devotees in love/search of this somewhat elusive candy. Southerners, for the most part, seem to call it “brown sugar fudge”, using more or less the same recipe. As a Pacific Northwesterner, this explains my lack of penuche exposure. I called several candy and fudge shops in Portland, none of which carried penuche, at least not in March. Apparently it’s a seasonal offering, made only for holidays that merit penuche production. A homemade fudge shop near my house keeps assuring me that they are going to make it “this week”. After 3 straight weeks of humiliating denial as well as offering me a consolation taste of their delicious homemade brown sugar pecan gelato instead (”Umm, who is the nut job obsessed with penuche? Just smile and maybe she’ll leave quickly”), I decided to take matters into my own (marginally capable) candy-making hands.

A Google search on “Penuche Recipes” nets a slew of results. Some recipes use a combination of brown and white sugar and even corn syrup, but my aforementioned fondness for the brown sugar and “less is more” approach attracted me to the simplicity and reliability of this one by Fanny Farmer. I followed the technique used in this recipe to a T (candy-making truly is a science) but couldn’t resist making these two embellishments:

1. I toasted the pecans (toasted nuts are just SO much better).
2. I doubled the salt and also sprinkled Portuguese Flor de Sal on top of the finished product. I just couldn’t resist.

So, for a first attempt, it wasn’t too bad. Who am I fooling? I can’t keep my hands off the junk. It’s freakin’ crack! Imagine the full mouthfeel and intensity of fudge, but an intense brown sugar, pecan, salty and buttery sensation replacing the chocolate. Dangerously addictive. I accidentally had the pan tilted as it was cooling, causing the candy to fall to one side, resulting in non-uniform pieces. Additionally, being that I’m in Portland and it’s springtime and very rainy, the humidity did not provide optimal candy-making conditions. It took a long time for the candy to set-up, but finally it did.

However, I really have no point of comparison, this being my one and only penuche experience. It does seem fairly similar to pralines, another favorite of mine. So, really, this is just a taking-off point, an exploration/work-in-progress. I will continue to search out and sample as much penuche as possible, and welcome any recipe and buying tips from the more seasoned and experienced amongst you.

I’ll leave you with just one tip of my own: The little bits that don’t come clean out of the pan can be sprinkled over vanilla ice cream with a bit of cinnamon. Fantastic! A delightful contrast of taste and texture. But really, it would also be lovely over a bowl of oatmeal…or tossed green salad, for that matter.