Chocolate Peanut Butter Fudge Bars

Two weeks to Christmas and the energy in the house is at DEFCON two. The kids are vibrating. Dave is pretending to be calm. I am in the kitchen more hours than not, baking and prepping and making lists and checking them twice, which is a Santa reference and also my actual life because without lists this household would collapse into anarchy within forty-eight hours.

I wrote my annual Christmas post for the blog: my top five holiday recipes for busy families. The list: slow cooker hot chocolate for parties, the chocolate sheet cake for everything, the Christmas fudge for gifting, easy dinner rolls for Christmas dinner, and my three-ingredient crescent sausage bites for Christmas morning because nobody wants to cook a full breakfast before presents. The post was popular because Christmas overwhelms people and simplicity sells, and these five recipes are simple and good and that is all anyone needs in December.

The crescent sausage bites deserve explanation. Take a can of crescent roll dough, cut each triangle in half, wrap each piece around a small sausage link, bake at 375 until golden. That is it. Three ingredients: dough, sausage, heat. The kids eat them with their hands while opening presents, and the wrapping paper flying around the living room is the only backdrop these bites need. I have made them every Christmas morning for ten years and I will make them every Christmas morning until my hands cannot open a can of crescent dough.

Gayle came over Sunday and I made her taste-test my fudge. She took one piece, examined it, bit into it, chewed thoughtfully, and said it is close. Close. I have been making her recipe for thirty years and it is close. I said what is wrong with it. She said nothing, it is close, which means it is perfect but she will never say perfect because that would end the conversation, and Gayle does not want the conversation about fudge to end. She wants to talk about fudge forever. I will let her. The fudge conversation is the thread that connects her kitchen to mine, her hands to my hands, her December to my December. Close is fine. Close is everything.

So yes, Gayle said close. And I have thought about that word every day since, standing in my kitchen rolling sausages into crescent dough and stirring chocolate on the stove and wondering if close is the highest compliment a woman who has been making fudge for fifty years can give. These Chocolate Peanut Butter Fudge Bars are my answer to that question—rich, easy, and absolutely meant for a plate wrapped in cellophane and left on someone’s porch with a note that says Merry Christmas, this is close enough.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 5 minutes | Total Time: 2 hours 20 minutes (includes chilling) | Servings: 24 bars

Ingredients

1 cup creamy peanut butter
1/2 cup unsalted butter, melted
2 cups powdered sugar
1 cup graham cracker crumbs
2 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon sea salt

Instructions

Mix the base. In a large bowl, stir together the peanut butter and melted butter until smooth. Add the powdered sugar, graham cracker crumbs, vanilla extract, and sea salt. Mix until fully combined.
Press into pan. Line a 9x13-inch baking pan with parchment paper, leaving overhang on two sides for easy removal. Press the peanut butter mixture firmly and evenly into the bottom of the pan.
Melt the chocolate. In a microwave-safe bowl, heat the chocolate chips in 30-second intervals, stirring between each, until completely melted and smooth. This usually takes about 1 1/2 to 2 minutes total.
Spread the chocolate. Pour the melted chocolate over the peanut butter layer and spread evenly with an offset spatula or the back of a spoon.
Chill and set. Refrigerate for at least 2 hours or until the chocolate is completely firm.
Cut into bars. Use the parchment overhang to lift the slab out of the pan. Cut into 24 bars with a sharp knife. For clean cuts, run the knife under warm water and wipe dry between slices.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chocolate Peanut Butter Fudge Bars — Because Close Is Everything