Holy carmelized caries, Batman!
Oct. 30th, 2008 05:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
I just made butterscotch. From scratch. It is the most divine substance I think I've ever created.
Shuna explains exactly how to do it yourself.
I made some oatmeal scotchies (you know, those oatmeal cookies with butterscotch chips in 'em) the other day, and while they turned out decently, I was musing on the chips themselves. They had kind of an artificial flavor to them... no wonder. They're artificially flavored. So today I set out on a quest for homemade butterscotch. This stuff is kind of syrupy and I'm not sure how it'll work in the cookies (that is, if there's any left tomorrow), but we'll give it a shot.
Go try it yourself, okay? You can thank me later.
Shuna explains exactly how to do it yourself.
I made some oatmeal scotchies (you know, those oatmeal cookies with butterscotch chips in 'em) the other day, and while they turned out decently, I was musing on the chips themselves. They had kind of an artificial flavor to them... no wonder. They're artificially flavored. So today I set out on a quest for homemade butterscotch. This stuff is kind of syrupy and I'm not sure how it'll work in the cookies (that is, if there's any left tomorrow), but we'll give it a shot.
Go try it yourself, okay? You can thank me later.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-31 12:48 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-31 01:02 am (UTC)Shuna has a link on her page to an earlier post on butterscotch pudding, where she discusses this myth (I think... or maybe it's in the comments?). Anyway, apparently that's a misnomer... the word "scotch" means to cut or score. Another site said it was a reference to Scotland. If you added scotch to this, it would probably boil off any alcohol rather quickly. Still, any excuse to cook, eh?
I remember a certain Christmas party (where the Santa was played by my Jewish friend Richard, the good sport of the century, but that's another story) where my boyfriend at the time vanished. After an hour or so, he was found on the back porch, snoring gently against the wall with an oversized Santa cap pulled over his eyes (yes, this evidence was duly photographed before he was awakened). Turns out he'd indulged a bit heavily in my friend Stacey's holiday specialty: bourbon balls.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-10-31 02:32 am (UTC)