Thursday, November 19, 2009
My father is the king of caramel apples. While he was attending Covenant College on Lookout Mountain, he worked in the Candy Kitchen at the top of the Incline Railway. Two elderly ladies owned the shop then, and they got a kick out of the way he pronounced "pecan" -- "Are they peekin' at you?", they'd ask.
But they also shared their recipe for caramel, and even though it's been a few decades, my dad still isn't rusty:
Sweet, sticky, never-give-up caramel apples -- after eating half of my apple, I had to give my jaw a break to finish the rest!
Just another thing to love about fall. And long live the king!