Christmas Eve Tradition: Popcorn Balls

As the Farmer’s Wife, I enjoy Old Fashioned-ee things. Especially old cookbooks—those with yellowed pages and notes in the lines. Those darlings chock full of the history of yester-year in the way of food and festivities. It is in one of those the original recipe and meaning of these special treats was originally found, but of course, I’ve put my own kind of spin on it. Let’s see if you can figure out what that is.

To begin with, you will need to pop popcorn. And it’s important this is done correctly, as in not in the microwave. As a side note, I detest such things and would rid my kitchen of it just as I did the machine that claimed to wash dishes, but it seems the Farmer is particularly attached to this appliance for its way of warming his coffee, so despite years of protest, it has stayed.

Now, as I was saying, popcorn must be made and to do that you will need a large pot with a lid and a handle into which a tablespoon or two of Virgin Coconut Oil is placed and topped with enough popcorn to coat the bottom of said pan with a single layer of kernels. For me that’s anywhere from three tablespoons to a quarter cup. The heat is turned on low and the pan is left until the oil melts and sizzles around each popcorn-to-be. And still, you must wait, until that glorious mysterious moment when the first one, that brave little kernel remembers all it can be and explodes into fluffy softness. A metamorphosis of epic proportions. The lid is applied, secured by your mitted hand, while your other hand remains on the handle. This is where the popping gets fun. Gripping the handle, slide the pan back and forth over the flames, stopping every few seconds to listen. And what are you listening for, you might ask? Why for the first popcorn to be joined by all his friends of course! And soon he will. They’ll be pop-pop-popping all over the place, so intensely you better remember your grip on that lid. Many a pantop has been lost in all the excitement. Indeed, don’t be surprised when your lid is lifted up so all your new friends can peek out—their first glimpse of this brave new world.

You may be tempted to stop. To sit and have a chat or five with your new buddies. Don’t do it! Always remember the heat is still on, and popcorn is easily scorched, and once it is, is fit for neither man nor beast. Well, maybe for chickens.

This is where you need to pay the most attention. Listen carefully. Is there still the sound of pouring rain, pounding on a tin roof? Or has his slowed? Lessened? Only an occasional pop or two? If so, turn off the heat immediately and pour the contents of your pan into a waiting bowl. Oh. Sorry. You need to have a large bowl set on the side to pour the popcorn into. Did I forget to mention that?

Now that the popcorn is done, we can and should move onto the binder—the glue that will hold it all together in ball form. That glorious thing called Caramel.

In a(nother) saucepan place two sticks butter (a cup’s worth total) and one and a half cups brown sugar, along with a half cup corn syrup. It’s a bit easier if you melt the butter first before putting the rest in, but not the end of the world if you don’t. Just a bit more work for you. Stir it all until it gets nice and bubbly. Then stop. Stop stirring, stop looking, just stop. Set your timer for four minutes and forget there ever was such a thing as caramel and popcorn. Until that timer goes off. Once it does, you need to get right back there and turn off the heat and stir in two tablespoons good bourbon and a heaping teaspoon of salt along with a quarter teaspoon baking soda. This gets stirred well and poured over the popcorn you have sitting in a bowl.

Now, hopefully you’ve made ten cups of popcorn. Should I have mentioned that before? Yes. Ten cups.

Stir it all together and when it is, pour it out on your counter. You can set a bit of parchment paper down if you’re avoiding a mess. Now, get your hands nice and buttered. And by that, I mean just what I say: rub butter all over the palm of your hands. You’ll need to do this several times during this process. Check the popcorn—it is scalding hot still? If so, wait a bit. Yes, I know it needs to be hot to make these, but I don’t want you burning your hands! Check it again. Are your fingers tingling? Your hands numb? No? Okay, pick some up and pack it like you would a snowball.

Now, don’t stop there! Yes, I see it. It’s a fine piece of work, but you’ve got lots more to go, so get going. And don’t let me see you go stopping again until this good work is done. And by done, I mean you have a pile of nice little salty-caramel beauties all lined up in a row.

Now, like I said before, you will need to butter your hands again and again and like I said, this snow-ball making thing only works when that caramel is hot, so if you dawdle a bit you’ll have some really tasty caramel corn, but you can’t really call it a popcorn ball. Either way, it’s delicious.

Oh. Just wondering. Did you figure out the changes I made to make this recipe my own?