For some reason this September I can't stand the thought of letting summer end. Logically, this makes no sense. Two weeks ago I would have given anything for the traffic to let up, for the heat to ease, for the restaurant to slow down. Yesterday marked the end of my thirty-eighth week of this pregnancy, which means I will spend these last two weeks of summer impatiently awaiting the arrival of another baby girl. Her due date is the second official day of fall. I should be begging for summer to end.
But I refuse to let go. I want the weather to last. I want to spend more late afternoons clamming in Truro, to keep taking noontime swims across Great Pond. I want more mint chip cones and more rainbow sprinkles and more striped bass and fried clams and root beer floats. I want to keep picking cucumbers and cherry tomatoes from the garden, and and I want to keep experimenting with beach plums.
Also, I want to keep eating fudgesicles. I am not going to type the recipe up here, because I haven't done anything except make the exact version Molly posted on her blog. But I am going to encourage you—forcefully?—to make them, to savor them now. My sister and I made them for the first time the other day—whatever that night that was that was hot and incredibly sticky—and we pulled them out of the freezer after Sally was in bed. I asked Alex if he wanted one, to which he replied, "Only if they're good." He seemed worried they might be some sort of pseudo, healthy fudgesicle.
Happily, he was both right and wrong. As far as fudgesicles go, they're the best the three of us have ever tasted. (Four of us, if you count Sally, though I don't believe she has much in the way of comparison. Terrible, I know.) They're also made with fairly good ingredients. It's hard to go wrong with good dairy, chocolate, and unsweetened cocoa. There's no added sugar beyond what's in the chocolate, so you can vary the sweetness to taste, depending on what you like as a dark to milk ratio. For this I like something around 55% cacao.
We made ten on Friday and they were gone by Sunday. Last night I made another batch, and we ate them when we got home from a beach picnic. We were wearing hoodies and sweatpants, but we had sand on our feet. It is summer, still.