I was instantly smitten. When I came across this glorious confection in the online shop of Hudson Chocolates, I knew it had to be be mine. Or rather my husband's, as a tribute to the good work he is doing with our two beautful bee hives this year. Dark chocolate honeycomb dusted in lustrous edible gold dust. Inside, salted peanut honeycomb candy. So meta. The product of some inspired upstate Wonka whose fertile imagination led him where no chocolatier has gone before. Breaking off shards of this masterpiece has been a painful pleasure. It's hard to contribute to its demise but simply impossible to resist. Chunks of buttery peanuts are suspended in airy caramelized crunch. And all of it enrobed in smooth and complex dark chocolate whose hexagonal imprint and golden sheen perfectly evoke our own precious hives. When the occasion demands pampering, celebration and indulgence, call for this treat. Perhaps you should order one today and get the party started.*
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Life is so short. And every year it seems to slip by more quickly, doesn't it? So I try to focus mostly on doing what I want, being with those I love and feeling as good as possible. This doesn't mean I don't have the occasional hissy-fit or melt-down, but I've worked hard to create a life that keeps those to a minimum. Recently, I read an article that ran in New York magazine about the popularity of Xanax and how anti-anxiety drugs are so commonplace and essential in these fraught, post-911 times. We're all deeply aware that the economy has collapsed, the environment is not far behind and terrorists could strike any time, any place. As the article, written by Lisa Miller, says, "The crises people face in these early months of 2012 are individual and circumstantial, yes, but they’re global and abstract as well, stemming largely from the haunting awareness (it’s certainly haunting me) that the fates of everyone in the world are intertwined and the job of protecting civilization from assorted inevitable disasters seems to have fallen to no one." But I'm wondering: is the world really any scarier than when we were afraid of "The Bomb," or of AIDS, or of polio, for that matter? How did people get through the Great Depression without Ativan? And why is everyone now so sure that relief lies in taking a pill?
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It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas. Around here, that's signaled by the annual frenzy of caramel-making that kicks in right after Thanksgiving. A gorgeous snowfall helps, and the strains of Misa Criolla, a traditional peasant mass, and Handel's Messiah are never far behind. Joanne, the lady at our local post office, was in awe of how many packages we mailed out today (around 100, some we hand-deliver) and was curious about how the tradition got started. I actually started making the legendary caramels in the late '90s to give to clients, but the line between clients and friends has blurred over the years, and the word has spread far and wide. It's not just that they are deliciously addictive, but that they are made by hand and with love, and that they appear year after year around the same time. This notion of tradition is so important to us, especially around the holidays. It's rather poignant for me because, with both my parents dead and no children in our house, traditions can seem a bit, well, pointless. Sometimes I am gripped with the sad realization that there will be no one to carry on what I do, but then I rally and realize that's all the more reason for me to do whatever I can, in the best way possible, right here and right now—and to share it with as many people as I can, including you.

I think I told you last year that Halloween was always a rather conflicted holiday for me as a child. It was my mother's birthday, and I felt very torn between wanting to stay and celebrate with her and itching to get out there with my pillowcase to haul in as many Sugarbabies and Milky Ways as possible. As you can see from the photo above, I did not hesitate to give in to my baser desires. (It appears my old friend and I both opted for the hobo route that year. She was probably looking for any excuse to dress up like a man, and I seem to have been working out some "cigar" issues of my own.)At that time, I had no qualms about scarfing down my ill-gotten gains, and my parents, usually sticklers for good nutrition, were strangely (but luckily) not among those who sorted through their child's stash leaving behind only those stupid little boxes of raisins we all resented. But now I cringe at the thought of the veritable rivers of high-fructose corn syrup, and am sad that homemade treats are frowned upon as Halloween giveaways. (The old razor-blade in the apple, remember?) Still, I'm going to offer you some options to that ubiquitous candy jar that seems to show up around this time of year and stay more or less replenished throughout the coming few months. Treats? For sure. But a few tricks to make them just a little healthier.
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Around this time every year, our house turns into a veritable hive of activity. Of course there is the requisite wrapping of presents, but mostly it centers around the annual caramel bonanza. There is something about the convergence of salt and sweet and butter and chew (and chocolate) that makes these humble candies so addictive. We pour lots of love into them and send them out into the world as a reminder that something homemade, something from the heart, is the most wonderful gift of all. If you've never made candy, I recommend these as a starting point. All you need is a big, heavy pot, a baking sheet and a candy thermometer. It's a bit like baking in that you need to follow the instructions closely as far as temperature and proportions, but the rest is all stirring and wrapping. Always use the best ingredients because the flavors are quite concentrated. And give yourself plenty of time, because it's best to avoid panic when there is molten caramel around.

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Does candy-making seem way too daunting? Here's a little secret: all it takes is a clip-on thermometer and a tireless stirring arm. (Doesn't even need to be yours!) More than ten years ago, I began making caramels to give away to clients and friends during the holiday season. They've developed quite the rabid fan base and, at this point, I can't really get away with not making them. (Quite a few people have suggested I start a business selling these caramels, but I think, like Haley's comet, their occasional appearance contributes to their coveted status.)
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