“Can we use your caramel popcorn recipe to make popcorn balls?” the GAP asked.  “I don’t usually like popcorn, but your recipe is really good.”  I didn’t let on that it wasn’t really the recipe or even the popcorn.  It was more the loads of butter and sugar.

“Why?”

“I’ve volunteered to make popcorn balls for the Bug’s third grade class.”

“It shouldn’t be that hard,” I said.

“Wanna help make popcorn balls?” I asked the two older grand kids.

“Sure,” I heard.   Gotta seize the moment.  Too soon it will become, “Do I have to.”

“We’ll be like the four pop-a-teers,”  the Bug said.

I grabbed the old popcorn maker from a high-up cupboard and plugged it in.  It hummed.  A few burned kernels from the time it was last used whirled in the hot air.  “I want your popcorn maker when you die,” the GAP, my oldest daughter, said to me.  I’m sure no one will fight her for it.  It’s a cheap old air popper my mom passed down to me.  I got the pasta maker, too.  Other than a part here and there missing, these relics are irreplaceable.

The Worm plunged a measuring cup into the bag of corn.  She poured the kernels into the back of the popper.  Soon the bowl was filled with fluffy white popped corn.  The GAP removed the plastic hood on the popper, and one last kernel flew into the air.  The Worm laughed.

The Bug stirred a bowl of melted butter and sugar on the stovetop.  “Grandma,” he said as he sprinkled the baking soda over into the boiling mixture.  “It’s like a chemistry experiment.”

We dumped the popped corn into the turkey roaster, drizzled the foaming mixture over it, and tossed it like a salad.  We baked them in the oven, turning the goopy mixture every fifteen minutes.

^[1]Little by little the interest in repeating the process over and over dissolved for the young helpers.  The GAP and I were stuck trying to make something round out of something that had already pretty much made a decision to look like a thick slab of colorful stryofoam.  Adding to the difficulty – popcorn covered in caramel is quite hot.  The bumper crop of popcorn quickly cooled, and became even less malleable.  Soon it wouldn’t stick together.  “They’re not going to eat the treats in class,” The GAP said.

“Good thing,” I said.  “We’ll wrap them in Saran Wrap, tie them off with a piece of ribbon, and they’ll think they are balls.  Until they open them.  But no one will complain when they taste them.”  The GAP and I stole a few morsels and popped them in our mouths.  Okay, maybe more than a few.  We still had enough for 32 handfuls of caramel corn disguised as balls.

And no one did complain (that I know of).

Caramel Corn

1 cup popcorn kernels
2 cups brown sugar
1 cup Karo syrup
2 cups margarine
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. soda
1 tsp. vanilla
1 cup nuts

1. Pop corn.
2. Place in roaster pan sprayed with Pam.
3. Boil sugar, syrup, margarine and salt for five minutes.  Add soda, vanilla, and nuts.
4. Pour over corn and stir.
5. Bake, stirring every 15 minutes.

Cooking time:  1 hour at 250°. 

If you can get them to form a ball, you are a better cook than I.

 

Related posts:

1. Halloween on a budget ^[12]
2. Leave them alone ^[13]
3. Everything you ever wanted to be ^[14]
4. How to make churro bits ^[15]
5. I am woman, hear me roar ^[16]

4 Comments To "The four pop-a-teers"

#1 Comment By Andree Baumler On November 8, 2011 @ 8:58 am

#2 Comment By Grandma Kc On November 8, 2011 @ 10:44 am

#3 Comment By CC On November 8, 2011 @ 9:16 pm

#4 Comment By Family Vacation Ideas On November 15, 2011 @ 8:52 am

---