June 26, 2017

Chocolate Peanut Butter & Salted Caramel Tart | Celia's Saucer

There are few things that take me back to my childhood as much as salty peanut butter and chocolate - the smell is intoxicating and makes my heart race with excitement. All of a sudden I am five years old and it's Halloween in Massachusetts. 

The leaves have fallen in their kaleidoscope of color colour, a darkness hinted at by the night that's drawing in across the skies. I drag my feet through a carpet of pine needles on the lane, forcing them into sweet, peppery-smelling mounds caught on the October air. 

We're losing the light quickly and our house becomes a warm, faint glow in the distance. Grandma's watchful silhouette dissolves into the shadows and I have one hand clutching the handle of my plastic Jack o' lantern, and the other safe in my dad's as we walk slowly towards the faces of pumpkins flickering in a menacing delight; a growing invite. 

A group of trick or treaters flitter past in a giddy procession - the ghastly glint of a vampire's fangs, a wicked witch with a nose that's long and green - and there's a reflection of ourselves in the dusk-lit glass: a small, long skeleton girl with a round tummy and eyes (that's me), standing next to her burglar brother with his shock of red hair and beard. 

"Oh my!" comes a shrill exclamation from the doorway that's shrouded in cobwebs, the last light of the evening caught on its wavering fringes. "What do we have here?"

"Trick or treat." Jonathan demands. "Yeah, trick or treat." I second his wager, and we watch as if in slow motion as she reaches her hands deep into a bowl and pulls out handfuls of our favourite candies: jolly ranchers, candy corn, purple grape tootsie pops, and peanut butter cups, all making a satisfying echo as they reach the depths of our lanterns. 

It isn't until much later when we're dressed down for bed and about to say goodnight to our favorite favourite evening of the year,  and mum and grandma have conferred and agreed that we can have one candy each, that we empty our prized mountain of goodies onto the carpet. As Lauren and Jonathan deliberate over their ultimate choice, I clasp my sticky hands decisively around the ridged gold foil of a peanut butter cup. Pinching the edges, I draw them back to reveal a prize that's all mine and no one else's. 

For the recipe, follow Sally's Baking Addiction (not me - apparently lots of Sally's like to bake) just here:



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