It seems that your mother painted a childhood full of memories for you and other children. From a very young age, you saw how skillful and resourceful she was. In your eyes, she seemed capable of making anything, perhaps learning from somewhere, perhaps creating it herself, even though back then there were no telephones or social media like there are now.
Mom is a "superwoman" in the eyes of her children. And the taffy candy is a family secret, originating from her. She's the only one in the whole town who knows how to make it. Needless to say, my siblings and I are incredibly proud.
Just hearing the name "pulled candy" evokes a sweet feeling. The candy is made from sugarcane molasses. Every Sunday morning, my mother would wake up early to go to the market, as the rooster crowed, heralding the dawn. She would carefully go from stall to stall selling molasses, examining, selecting, and tasting the candies.
The syrup used to make the candy must be a golden, glossy sugarcane syrup, like the autumn sun, thick and viscous. Each time it's scooped up and poured with a ladle, it creates a smooth, flowing stream, like a captivating carpet of sweet golden syrup.
My mother bought a large jar of honey, enough to make candy for the whole week, and waited until the following Sunday to return to the market. The vendors, familiar with my mother's appearance, would eagerly offer her the best quality honey.
The honey was brought home and the cooking process began. Making candy was quite elaborate. The honey was poured into a deep pot, stirred constantly to prevent it from burning. Sometimes my brother and I were given the task of watching the pot of candy in place of our mother. We were overjoyed and extremely happy.
Once the candy has thickened and become more viscous, my mother tests a drop of it in water. Feeling the right consistency, the pot of candy is transferred to another pot placed over a basin of water. The candy testing process sounds simple, quick, and easy.
However, this is an extremely important step, determining the right level of ripeness, the perfect softness, and the overall deliciousness of the candy. For experienced candy makers like my mother, this is truly simple and easy.
After flipping and turning the candy several times to cool it down, the large sheet of candy moved on to a new and exciting stage. My siblings and I were all thrilled and excited, asking Mom to let us try. The candy was pounded, squeezed, and stretched on a nail hammered into the wall.
Taffy candy - a treat from childhood memories.
The kneading and pulling process caused the honeycomb to gradually transform, turning from white to spongy white. We asked our mother if we could make it in small amounts each time.
Next, the candy is unrolled, beginning the process of cutting and dividing. My mother gently rolls the candy sheet in the prepared flour, smoothing it into long strips before cutting it into short pieces. From the glistening golden drops of honey, through the cooking, stretching, and coating process, these small, beautiful candies are transformed.
Ten candies were placed in a small plastic bag, with a little powder added to keep them dry. My mother used a candle to seal the bag. A pack of ten candies back then cost only one hundred dong – a favorite and coveted item for children.
The candy packets were touched to the fire, binding them together into a continuous string, which hung dangling in my charming little shop in front of my house.
Next to my house was the elementary school I attended. The children would excitedly rush out during recess or after school, calling out to my mother to sell them a packet of taffy. Every child's eyes sparkled with excitement and anticipation. I was so proud to be a little shopkeeper helping my mother sell her goods.
The candy strings hung loosely, and each packet was gently untied and sold to the children. In those days, there weren't many sweets, and life wasn't as abundant and overflowing with things as it is now. My mother's pulled candy was a coveted, familiar, and trustworthy treat for the children.
For just one hundred dong, I got ten sweet candies that brought back childhood memories. Many children, especially my friends, were visibly envious, saying I was lucky to have a candy maker and be able to enjoy candy whenever I wanted.
So, every time they were invited to our house and my mother offered them as much candy as they wanted, they were so happy and just wanted to visit us again and again.
My foster mother's taffy candy was a part of our childhood. She made and sold it herself in her small shop and also supplied other shops in town, essentially acting as a regional distributor. Yet, she did everything by hand, without using machinery like today.
Our days were spent going to school and then coming home to be with our mother, helping her make candy and delivering it to customers. Many years have passed, and our mother is no longer with us, but the memories of her and the pulled candy remain with us.
Later in life, I continued my mother's profession. I made candy and supplied it to shops, and the money from selling the candy helped me buy books and school supplies. When I left home to study far away, and later when I graduated and started working, I no longer had time to make the candy. However, every time I return to my old home, every time the longing for my mother overwhelms me, I make the candy I used to make.
I make taffy candy so that my grandchildren will know and remember the beloved candy of their grandmother from long ago, to preserve every sweet memory of their mother.
Source: https://phunuvietnam.vn/keo-keo-gay-thuong-nho-20250415145511016.htm
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