By Post-Thanksgiving week, and the house holds the particular aftermath of a large gathering: the fridge packed with leftovers in containers, the dining table returned to its everyday configuration, the good china washed and stored again. I love this week. There is something about cooking for leftovers that is in some ways better than cooking from scratch — the turkey goes into soup, the potatoes get fried with a little rosemary until crispy, the stuffing becomes the basis of a frittata that Gary has twice requested specifically as a leftover management strategy.
The holiday season has arrived with December three days out and Mia's due date eight weeks out. The baby is positioned well, she says, and running out of room to move, which she reports with the rueful humor of a woman in the final stretch of pregnancy. I remember this phase — the heaviness, the insomnia, the strange heightened sentimentality that descends. I told her to sleep when she can and eat what she wants and let people bring her things. She is doing all three.
I've started the holiday baking calendar. This is a document I maintain every year that maps out what gets made when, because the window between Thanksgiving and Christmas, while it feels long in early November, compresses rapidly once you're in it. Stollen this weekend. Lebkuchen next week. Shortbread and ginger snaps the week after. The fruitcake I make for Gary, which takes two weeks to cure properly and which he is the only person in our immediate family who genuinely loves, needs to start now or it won't be ready.
Gary helped me start the fruitcake yesterday. He's helped me every year for about twelve years now, since I explained the process in detail and he got interested in the science of it. He measures the dried fruit with more precision than I do, which I don't tell him doesn't matter, because his precision makes him happy and the cake turns out fine either way. Partnership in its most domestic form.
December coming. The baby coming. Christmas coming. Everything at once, which is how December always is, and somehow it always fits.
With the fruitcake started and the full baking calendar stretching out ahead of me, I wanted something quick and cheerful — something that didn’t require two weeks to cure and could be shared right now, in this particular cozy window between Thanksgiving and December. Lemon fudge has become my little reset between the bigger holiday projects: it’s bright and sweet and takes almost no time, which feels like a gift when the calendar is already this full. And with Mia in her final weeks and all this anticipation in the air, something sunny felt exactly right.
Lemon Fudge
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 10 minutes | Total Time: 20 minutes plus 2 hours chilling | Servings: 24 pieces
Ingredients
- 3 cups white chocolate chips
- 1 can (14 oz) sweetened condensed milk
- 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
- 3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
- 1 tablespoon lemon zest, plus more for topping
- 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 1/4 teaspoon salt
- Yellow food coloring (optional)
Instructions
- Prepare the pan. Line an 8x8-inch baking pan with parchment paper, leaving an overhang on the sides for easy removal. Set aside.
- Melt the base. In a medium saucepan over low heat, combine the white chocolate chips, sweetened condensed milk, and butter. Stir constantly until fully melted and smooth, about 6—8 minutes. Do not rush this over high heat or the chocolate may seize.
- Add the lemon. Remove the pan from heat. Stir in the lemon juice, lemon zest, vanilla extract, and salt. If using food coloring, add 1—2 drops now and stir to combine. The mixture should be thick, glossy, and fragrant.
- Pour and smooth. Pour the fudge into the prepared pan and spread into an even layer with a spatula. Scatter a little extra lemon zest over the top if desired.
- Chill. Refrigerate uncovered for at least 2 hours, or until fully set and firm to the touch.
- Cut and serve. Use the parchment overhang to lift the fudge out of the pan. Place on a cutting board and slice into 24 small squares with a sharp knife. Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 2 weeks.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 148 | Protein: 2g | Fat: 7g | Carbs: 20g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 45mg