Betrayal of trust, friendship and loyalty

I have lost an old and true friend. It is a sad day when a person finds treachery, betrayal, and deceit where there was once trust, loyalty, and reliability. This day comes with a long face and a feeling of deep regret and a mournful loss for a friendship that must now come to an end. I feel as though a memorial is in order and ask for a moment of silence as I explain the circumstances that accompany these feelings of disappointment and despair.

I am a candy maker. My days of candy making have included events that were initially perceived as failures, but which transformed overnight into successes (while sitting on the counter having been given up on). This year, the idea that some small error may become a delicious dessert overnight was beyond hope as my dear friend’s betrayal was absolute.


The lost friend I speak of is my candy thermometer. For many years I have carefully measured the boiling point of my thermometer to insure accuracy while making candy. This was largely due to the fact that we have moved many times and making candy in locations of incredibly varying elevations makes an enormous difference in cooking temperatures when making candy. I altered my recipes accordingly and have had many years of success even through these drastic moves. This year I decided that a move of half a mile was not enough to warrant a thermometer check. This thought came from the devil himself.

Every year I whip up a batch of the best caramels under the sun—my mom’s to-die-for recipe. They take a while to reach the correct temperature, so I had Paul stir while I was getting William to bed. I told him to keep an eye on the thermometer and let me know if the temperature reached 230 degrees. He jokingly commented that “these green numbers say nine hundred and eight!” as he looked at the clock on the stove. HA HA, VERY FUNNY!! I smiled and took a picture expecting to post something along the lines of “Paul is SO funny.”

I took over the stirring again and looked in the pot. It looked done. It was dark. It was too thick. I pushed aside these thoughts after looking at my trusty thermometer and ascertaining that we still had five degrees to go. I decided to pour out the caramels early as I was beginning to get nervous that the caramel would burn (it was still three degrees shy, but was definitely too dark and thick). Needless to say, the “caramels” were hard. VERY hard. Checking the boiling point on the thermometer was now a necessity to discover where things went wrong. The boiling point was TEN DEGREES lower than last year. My thermometer had turned against me.

You may roll your eyes and remark to yourself how ridiculous it is to consider this a loss. “Why doesn’t she just buy a new one?” you may wonder. I myself will admit that a small kitchen instrument that cost $11.29 plus tax seven years ago is usually not much of a loss. You may now marvel that I remember the cost of said instrument so many years ago, but this also requires an explanation.

This thermometer was purchased at a time when resources were scarce and funding a large pot and thermometer that would last through at least one use in candy making was about enough to starve our family for a month. This was a dear gift Paul and I purchased together at a fantastic store called “Kitchen Kneads” that only exists in Logan, Utah. This tiny little store is packed full of kitchen supplies and fancy cooking items. Paul and I would wander through the store and just dream of a kitchen that had consistently working appliances that didn’t light on fire and the many devices we would purchase to make the most amazing food on the planet. The five years we lived in Logan together included many visits to this little store, a few cooking classes there, and very few purchases, therefore this thermometer holds a special place in my heart.

I have now melted down my candy a second time—the only way it would come out of the pan—and turned it into toffee and it tastes excellent. My neighbors will not be receiving caramels this year, but toffee made from caramels is much better than toffee made with water anyway. I bid my dear thermometer farewell with delicious memories of the happy times and the sugar-coated sweat and sweet tears that we shared while producing our many creations together (at least I will if I can get myself to actually dispose of it).