The older I get, the less I find myself enjoying really sugary food.
Used to be that I could walk into a grocery store and, given the choice between a rotisserie chicken and a red velvet cake roll, leave with diabetes and the reassurance that I would never lack for saturated fat again. Now my first reaction to those foods in the bakery section is repulsion, though that could also be because they recently started putting nutrition facts on the labels and I can no longer estimate the caloric value of cream cheese-stuffed black bottom Reese's frosted cupcakes. Oh well.
If there's one food I know I love, though, it's salted caramel sauce.
It's laborious to make and satisfies my inner pyromaniac and allows me to briefly face dangerous splatters and intense heat head on before padding back to the office to write about 18th century French literature. It goes to show, though, that it's rare for me to find and buy a good caramel sauce in a jar because of how much I like to make it on my own. Recently, I was sent a selection of sauces by Spoonable, a caramel sauce company in Brooklyn, to sample and evaluate.
The packaging on these is gorgeous, with a
stamped design and concise label on butcher paper. It seamlessly blends with the glossy, smooth caramel inside. Of the five flavors they sent over, I knew I'd have to try peppered orange first.
And who wouldn't want to try a sauce whose label enthusiastically recommended spooning it over both pancakes and pot roast? While we didn't break out the carnitas just yet, it is worth noting that the endorsement for slathering Spoonable on everything isn't just laying it on thick, so to speak.
The sugar, despite being the first ingredient, is
masterfully tempered in the caramel, and has a gooey texture with a strong bitterness from the extract. This makes my homemade caramel look like dog crap on a spoon. It's easy to eat on a cookie, with chocolate, or just out of the jar with a spoon. An amazing example of a versatile, sweet condiment.
And a silver SOFI nominee, nonetheless!
If there's one food I know I love, though, it's salted caramel sauce. It's laborious to make and satisfies my inner pyromaniac and allows me to briefly face dangerous splatters and intense heat head on before padding back to the office to write about 18th century French literature. It goes to show, though, that it's rare for me to find and buy a good caramel sauce in a jar because of how much I like to make it on my own. Recently, I was sent a selection of sauces by Spoonable, a caramel sauce company in Brooklyn, to sample and evaluate.
The packaging on these is gorgeous, with a stamped design and concise label on butcher paper. It seamlessly blends with the glossy, smooth caramel inside. Of the five flavors they sent over, I knew I'd have to try peppered orange first. And who wouldn't want to try a sauce whose label enthusiastically recommended spooning it over both pancakes and pot roast? While we didn't break out the carnitas just yet, it is worth noting that the endorsement for slathering Spoonable on everything isn't just laying it on thick, so to speak.
The sugar, despite being the first ingredient, is masterfully tempered in the caramel, and has a gooey texture with a strong bitterness from the extract. This makes my homemade caramel look like dog crap on a spoon. It's easy to eat on a cookie, with chocolate, or just out of the jar with a spoon. An amazing example of a versatile, sweet condiment. And a silver SOFI nominee, nonetheless!
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