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Okay Brothers and Sisters! Gather ‘Round! This ain’t your typical casserole confession. Today, I’m confessin’ to a culinary crime of the sweetest kind: the Peanut Butter Fudge Fiasco of ’24. Yep, your award-winning’ church cook, yours truly, nearly drowned our annual bake sale in a tsunami of peanut butter goo.

Now, you know I’m no stranger to the kitchen. My Nana’s pound cake recipe could charm a hummingbird out of its nest, and my pecan pie? Well, let’s just say the choir director needs a sugar detox after every potluck. But this time, y’all, I got cocky. I decided to whip up a batch of my “secret” peanut butter fudge, the kind that melts on your tongue like a sinner at revival. Except, this time, the recipe gods weren’t smiling’.

First, I poured in the brown sugar, all golden and hopeful. Then came the regular sugar, glinting like a deacon’s Sunday shoes. Milk, check. Salt, just a pinch, like a whispered prayer. But then, something went wonky. The marshmallow creme, supposed to be fluffy like a cloud, refused to cooperate. It clumped, it glooped, it stuck to my spatula like a toddler to a lollipop.

“Just needs some heat, honey,” I muttered, shoving the pan on the stove. Big mistake. The mixture bubbled like a cauldron in Hades, threatening to overflow and paint the kitchen floor peanut butter brown. I scrambled, yanked the pan off the heat, and prayed for a miracle.

That miracle came in the form of Sister Betty, bless her heart. She peeked in, sniffed the air, and declared, “Honey, you’ve turned fudge into lava! But don’t you fret, I’ve got just the fix.” And with a twinkle in her eye and a whisk in hand, she whipped that fudge into creamy submission. Added a splash of vanilla, a sprinkle of wisdom (and maybe a pinch of her secret ingredient, which I suspect is a dash of divine intervention), and voila! Peanut butter heaven.

The bake sale was a success, the fudge a star attraction. Folks swooned, begged for the recipe, and even the pastor asked for seconds (bless his sweet tooth). And me? Well, I learned a valuable lesson. Humility, sisters and brothers, is the secret spice in any kitchen. And when the recipe goes rogue, call on your church family. They’ll stir you back from the brink, one prayerful whisk at a time.

So, there you have it, my friends. My peanut butter fudge tale, a cautionary Christmas carol of sorts. Remember, even award-winning cooks make mistakes. But with a little faith, a dash of forgiveness, and a whole lot of love, even a fudge fiasco can turn into a church cookin’ miracle. Amen!

P.S. For those brave souls who want to try the recipe (with Sister Betty’s blessing, of course), here it is:

Sister Schubert’s (Redeemed!) Peanut Butter Fudge


  • 1Lb light brown sugar
  • 1 cup white sugar
  • 2/3 cup milk
  • 1/8 teaspoon salt
  • 2 tablespoons marshmallow creme
  • 1/2 cup peanut butter
  • 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract


  • Combine brown sugar, sugar, milk, and salt in a saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium heat, stirring constantly.
  • Remove from heat and stir in marshmallow creme until melted.
  • Stir in peanut butter and vanilla extract until smooth.
  • Pour into an 8×8 inch greased pan.
  • Let cool completely and cut into squares.

Bonus Tip: If your fudge starts to misbehave, channel your inner Sister Betty and add a little love (and maybe a sprinkle of prayer). It works every time!

Now go forth and bake, my friends! And remember, even in the kitchen, there’s always room for a little bit of grace (and maybe a pinch of divine intervention).

With love and sticky fingers,

Sister Schubert, the (Redeemed) Fudge Queen of Bull Creek Church

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