Valentine's Day, and Robert asked me to dinner — a restaurant on East Bay, white tablecloths. I said yes because saying no would be a punishment and I am done punishing, and because the restaurant has a she-crab soup on the menu that three people have told me is excellent.
We went. The restaurant was beautiful. The she-crab soup was good — not as good as mine, certainly not as good as Mama's, but good in the way that restaurant food is good: technically proficient, missing the specific gravity that home cooking carries. Robert ordered wine. We talked about the children. We did not talk about anything painful. We were two people on a date, and the ordinary was extraordinary because eighteen months ago I couldn't have imagined sitting across from this man without the shadow of his betrayal between us like a third chair.
James got Robert a funny card from the bookstore, and Carrie made Robert a card with Japanese calligraphy that read "love" in kanji, which she had been practicing for a week. The gesture was sweet and also strategic: Carrie rarely misses an opportunity to remind the family that Japan exists.
I made pralines this week — the pecan-and-sugar confections that Charleston claims as its own. Mama's pralines use dark brown sugar, heavy cream, butter, and pecans, cooked to the soft-ball stage on a candy thermometer and dropped onto parchment paper in rounds. They are the candy of my childhood. I made a batch and wrapped them in cellophane and gave them to my library staff as Valentine's gifts, because love takes many forms and sometimes the most honest form is a pecan praline.
Below is the praline recipe I used for those cellophane-wrapped Valentine’s gifts—Mama’s recipe, the one with dark brown sugar and heavy cream that I’ve been making since I was tall enough to read a candy thermometer. After a dinner where the ordinary felt extraordinary again, it seemed right to send that same warmth out into the world, one pecan round at a time. If you’ve never made candy before, don’t be nervous—just trust the thermometer and work quickly once it hits soft ball.
Southern Pecan Pralines
Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 30 minutes | Servings: 24 pralines
Ingredients
- 1 1/2 cups packed dark brown sugar
- 1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
- 1 cup heavy cream
- 6 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into pieces
- 2 cups pecan halves, lightly toasted
- 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
Instructions
- Prepare your workspace. Line two large baking sheets with parchment paper. Have a candy thermometer, a wooden spoon, and a large spoon or cookie scoop ready before you begin—praline batter sets quickly.
- Combine sugars and cream. In a heavy-bottomed 3-quart saucepan, stir together the dark brown sugar, granulated sugar, and heavy cream over medium heat until the sugars dissolve completely.
- Cook to soft-ball stage. Clip the candy thermometer to the side of the pan. Bring the mixture to a boil without stirring and cook until the thermometer reads 236–238°F (soft-ball stage), about 15 to 18 minutes. Adjust heat as needed to maintain a steady boil without scorching.
- Add butter and pecans. Remove the pan from heat. Immediately add the butter, pecans, vanilla, and salt. Stir vigorously with the wooden spoon until the butter melts and the mixture begins to thicken and turn slightly opaque, about 2 to 3 minutes.
- Drop the pralines. Working quickly, drop heaping spoonfuls of the mixture onto the prepared parchment paper, forming rounds about 3 inches across. If the mixture hardens in the pan before you finish, return it to low heat and stir until it loosens.
- Cool and set. Let the pralines cool completely at room temperature until firm, about 20 to 30 minutes. Wrap individually in cellophane or store in an airtight container between layers of wax paper.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 185 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 10g | Carbs: 25g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 30mg