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Dark Rum Caramel Sauce -- The Sweet That Made My Birthday Cake My Own

The day after Christmas and after my birthday, which were all the same day this year as always, and this year the day held more than usual. The family gathered: Destiny and Travis came Saturday morning, and Shanice had said they could tell everyone, so at Christmas dinner CJ told his sister. Destiny made a sound I have not heard her make since she was a child — a pure, unguarded yelp of joy — and then covered her mouth and started laughing and crying at the same time. Travis reached over and shook CJ's hand and said, brother, that's the best news. That word — brother — in Travis's voice, about CJ. I had to look down at my plate for a moment.

I made my birthday cake again this year: the brown sugar pound cake with salted caramel, same as last year, because it was right last year and it is my cake now, the one associated with my birthday in December in this kitchen. Shanice had a small piece. CJ had two pieces and said he was eating for two also, which Shanice ignored with impressive composure. The table was good. The food was good. The news was as good as news gets.

After dinner CJ pulled me aside in the kitchen and told me quietly that if the baby is a boy, they are thinking about names. He said nothing else and I said nothing back, because some conversations don't need all their words said out loud to be understood. I know what he is thinking about. I think it is the right thing. I think his father would stand up straight if he knew.

A cake needs a reason to come back, and this caramel is mine. Every December I make the same pound cake, and every December this dark rum caramel sauce is what makes it feel like it belongs to me — not just a recipe I followed once but something that has earned its place at my table. This Christmas it sat in the middle of a table that had just heard the best news I can imagine, poured over a cake I cut on my birthday surrounded by people I love more than I can say, and it was exactly right.

Dark Rum Caramel Sauce

Prep Time: 5 minutes | Cook Time: 15 minutes | Total Time: 20 minutes | Servings: 12 (about 1 1/2 cups)

Ingredients

  • 1 cup granulated sugar
  • 1/4 cup water
  • 1/2 cup heavy cream, warmed
  • 3 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into pieces
  • 3 tablespoons dark rum
  • 1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
  • 3/4 teaspoon flaky sea salt (or 1/2 teaspoon fine salt)

Instructions

  1. Combine sugar and water. In a medium heavy-bottomed saucepan, stir together the granulated sugar and water over medium heat until the sugar begins to dissolve. Once dissolved, stop stirring and allow the mixture to cook undisturbed.
  2. Cook to amber. Continue cooking over medium to medium-high heat, swirling the pan gently if needed for even color, until the caramel reaches a deep amber — similar to the color of dark honey — about 10 to 12 minutes. Watch carefully; it can go from perfect to burnt quickly.
  3. Add the cream. Remove the pan from heat and carefully pour in the warmed heavy cream — it will bubble vigorously. Whisk until smooth and combined.
  4. Stir in butter and rum. Return the pan to low heat and whisk in the butter pieces one at a time until fully melted. Remove from heat and stir in the dark rum and vanilla extract.
  5. Season with salt. Add the sea salt and stir to combine. Taste and adjust salt as desired — the salt should be present but not sharp.
  6. Cool and serve. Let the sauce cool for 5 to 10 minutes before pouring over pound cake, ice cream, or whatever deserves it. Store any leftovers in a sealed jar in the refrigerator for up to 2 weeks; rewarm gently before using.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 130 | Protein: 0g | Fat: 6g | Carbs: 18g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 120mg

Loretta Simms
About the cook who shared this
Loretta Simms
Week 353 of Loretta’s 30-year story · Birmingham, Alabama
Loretta is a fifty-six-year-old pastor's wife in Birmingham, Alabama, who has been feeding her church and her community for thirty-four years. She lost her teenage son Jeremiah in a car accident, and she cooked through the grief because that is what Loretta does — she feeds people. Every funeral, every homecoming, every Wednesday night supper. If you are hurting, Loretta will show up at your door with a casserole and she will not leave until you eat.

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