The Waiting Game or How to Make Caramel (Updated With Pictures!)

One of my favorite past-times is baking. For me, I take a line from the movie "Julie and Julia" (I tend to quote movie lines, which are incredibly easy to remember), which says, "I love that after a day when nothing is sure...you can come home and absolutely know that if you add egg yolks to chocolate and sugar and milk, it will get thick. It's such a comfort."

Take the uncertainty of life as a writer, where you never know if anyone will ever get back to you for an interview, or if an editor will love or hate your story, it's part of the reason why I bake.

And this is what I did last week, to take my mind off another unpleasant fact of life: just because you send your resume out somewhere, no one is obligated to reply to you. And faced with the prospect of not being able to intern at Playbill or Broadway.com (which I've had my heart set on since the program began), and perhaps having to stay in Syracuse next semester and write for the local newspaper, baking seemed like a reasonable diversion.

At least for two hours, I wouldn't have to think about the poor state of my fledgling writing career.

I decided to undertake a caramel apple pie, which called for me to make my own caramel (something hitherto only to be found in the paradise of restaurants and Starbucks).

Because at the very least, doing this, I'll get a result of some kind, and one that will make sense. Unlike jobs or internships, where people are sometimes chosen based on very arbitrary criteria.

Yet little did I know that making caramel would be its own kind of uncontrollable waiting game, taking me from the land of solids, to liquids, to rock solids, to liquids again.

Standing over the sauce-pan for a good 20 minutes made me realize that non-stick pans are a work of genius.

But more than that, it was almost a literal manifestation of the (sometimes unpleasant) fact that no matter how much you want to control it (ie: boil faster or this doesn't look right, I should toss it or my pan will never survive this), it's better to just let go and let the caramelizing happen.

It was one more thing in the universe that wants to smack you over the head with the central concept, 'you've done what you've needed to do, the best you can do it. Now there's nothing you can do so just relax and let it happen.'

I kind of knew that, but the caramel brought it home again.

Here is the process

Caramel Sauce (adapted from Biscuits and Such)

• 2 cups sugar
• 4 tbsp water
• 1 cup heavy cream
• 1/2 tsp vanilla extract

Combine the sugar and water. Have the cream on hand.

For the next ten minutes or so, you’re just going to stir the sugar and water with a wooden spoon.

I'll think I'll coin a new adage, "As slow as making caramel."

Pretty quickly the sugar and water will liquefy and come to a boil. When the water boils off, the sugar will return to a solid state, to become a powder-like consistency. Keep stirring and about 10 minutes later, the sugar should slowly start to melt and darken.

When it’s totally melted and the color of peanut butter, pour the cream in all at once and stir rapidly.

I screamed a little bit at this part.

It’s going to start to bubble and steam like crazy. It may seem like it’s going to bubble over (and it may, a little), keep stirring until it has stopped boiling completely.

Remove from heat and let it cool for 10-15 minutes. Stir in the vanilla. Pour it into a glass bowl and set it aside.

Ohhh....shiny...

And as for the caramel apple pie, I took it to a Christmas party and everyone loved it. But I think it needed more caramel. I'll post the recipe when I've perfected it to my liking.