How to Make Fudgy Bonbons With Hershey's Kisses
Fudgy Bonbons With Hershey's Kisses
As the mother of two busy sons, I'm called upon to bake cookies for many events throughout the year. There's the Boy Scout campout, the end-of-the-season soccer potluck, the thank-you gifts for teachers and coaches, snacks for ravenous teens working on a school project—the list goes on. Because my boys are notorious for giving me no advanced notice, I don't have time to comb my recipe file in search of something new and different.
Instead, I turn to an old favorite and a surefire hit: fudgy bonbons with Hershey's kisses. You can't go wrong with these moist, rich, and delectable treats that are part cookie and part candy. Not only do they look elegant, but they taste out of this world. Smiles spread widely across faces as folks bite into them and discover a yummy surprise.
- 1 (12 oz.) package semisweet chocolate chips
- 1/4 cup butter
- 1 (14 oz.) can sweetened condensed milk
- 2 cups all-purpose flour
- 1/2 cup finely chopped nuts (optional)
- 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 60 milk chocolate Hershey's kisses, unwrapped
- 2 ounces white chocolate or mint chips
- 1 teaspoon vegetable shortening or oil
- Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Melt the chocolate chips and butter in a saucepan over low heat.
- Remove from the heat and add the sweetened condensed milk.
- Add the flour, nuts, and vanilla. Mix well.
- Unwrap the kisses.
- Completely cover each kiss with dough.
- Place on an ungreased cookie sheet 1" apart. Bake for 6-8 minutes. The cookies will appear soft and shiny.
- Melt white chocolate (or mint) chips with vegetable oil, stirring in a saucepan over low heat. Drizzle over the cookies.
- Cool. Eat and enjoy!
1. Gather the ingredients.
2. Melt chocolate chips and butter.
3. Stir in sweetened condensed milk.
4. Add flour, nuts, and vanilla. Mix well.
5. Unwrap the Hershey's kisses.
6. Completely cover kisses with dough.
7. Bake for 6 to 8 minutes.
8. Melt the white chocolate or mint chips with vegetable oil.
9. Drizzle melted chips over cookies. Enjoy!
Do fudgy bonbons with Hershey's kisses make you smile?
Memories of Fudgy Bonbons
Long before I got married, I envied my older sister's life of domestic bliss with her husband and three kids. As a single woman, I was putting in long hours on the job, eating microwave popcorn for dinner, and going on the occasional date with guys I didn't ever want to see again (let alone marry). I dreamed of having what, in my estimation, was surely an idyllic and stress-free existence just like hers. My jealousy was most pronounced during the holidays when she'd bake dozens of cookies (including fudgy bonbons) and present spectacular platters of them to family, friends, neighbors, co-workers, teachers, and coaches.
When I had a husband and kids of my own, I couldn't wait to duplicate my sister's cookie giving tradition. I had imagined how perfect it would be for so many years. Finally, it was my turn to experience it and I was ready to relish every moment!
My First Attempt Did Not End Well
I slaved away on that December day, making seven different kinds of cookies that would surely garner oohs and aahs. My sons were 4 and 1 at the time—too young to help but just old enough to make it a nightmare. When I was done, I was achy and exhausted as if I had just run a marathon. Every inch of my kitchen was blanketed in flour, sugar, and baking powder. It looked like we had a miraculous indoor dusting of snow for the holidays.
After soaking my boys (sticky from cookie dough) in the tub, I painstakingly arranged the treats on festive red and green plates. I covered them carefully with plastic wrap, adorned them with matching ribbon, and attached a note expressing holiday cheer. The hard work was behind me, and I was eager to hear the accolades that my sister always got: “Oh my goodness, dear, how on earth did you manage to make all those scrumptious cookies with little ones? They look absolutely AMAZING! You're absolutely AMAZING!”
Scattered Across the Linoleum Floor
While my 4-year-old son and I walked the two blocks to his preschool, my excitement grew as I proudly carried the plate of cookies. He had the most magical teacher in the entire universe, and I was eager to present them to her as a token of my admiration and appreciation. As we waited in the hallway for the classroom door to open, I looked around at the other moms standing there.They, too, were holding plates of impressive-looking homemade treats.
Looking down at mine, I saw them much differently than just a little bit ago. They somehow looked deformed and unappealing in comparison. My confidence in my cookies began to wane.
When the door opened, parents and children filed into the classroom with their offerings for the teacher. Right before we entered, my little guy asked if he could hold the cookies and present them. I placed the plate on his two flat outstretched hands. He then took two steps forward and dropped it, sending cookies skidding across the linoleum in all directions.
I scurried around the hall, picking them up and tossing them into the trash. Other moms watched with grieved expressions while remarking: "What a shame!"
I then did something that I still regret all these years later. I pulled my 4-year-old around the corner where no one could see us. Then I admonished him like I had never done before and have never done since. I scolded his carelessness in a whisper so nobody could hear.
After he entered the classroom, I was left alone—feeling small, guilty, and ashamed. I knew at that moment I would never be the perfect mom like I imagined my sister was. I wouldn't be sewing my children's Halloween costumes, coaching their soccer teams, or growing vegetables and herbs with them in our backyard garden. In fact, I became convinced then and there that I would never be the mother who made plates of fancy holiday cookies for everyone she knew.
I had long-suspected that something was different about my boy. Those suspicions got confirmed when he was diagnosed with high functioning autism shortly after the fudgy bonbon debacle. The family life I thought we'd lead was forever altered. The child I imagined when I was pregnant was gone and replaced with a new one—just as lovable but much more challenging.
I needed to simplify my life so I could channel all my energies into helping him reach his full potential. It was a lonelier and more grueling road than the other moms were traveling. Yet, it was the one that I was meant to take.
Just as my plate of holiday cookies had looked inadequate compared to others, my son with autism seemed lacking when put up against his peers. His muscle tone was weak, his coordination awkward, his speech difficult to understand, and his eye contact non-existent. When he became excited or anxious, he would “stim” (self-stimulate) by flapping his arms. While doing this, he looked like like a baby bird who had just hatched from an egg and was struggling to fly. People would look on in horror like they were watching some kind of freak show. Meanwhile, I ignored the stares, got stronger, and kept focused on my son's progress.
Fudgy Bonbons Today
It's been 10 years since the fudgy bonbons skidded across the floor. In that time, my mantra became "comparison is the thief of joy." I now feel fortunate to have discovered that lesson early on in my parenting journey. I stopped looking at what other kids were doing and simply enjoyed my own two guys. Yes, making fudgy bonbons got put on hold for many years. Last holiday season, though, my sons and I made them together and that was the sweetest treat of all.
© 2015 McKenna Meyers