By Tom Harte
According to Will Ferrell, playing the part of Buddy the Elf, unquestionably his greatest role, candy canes are among the four major food groups in the elfin diet.
And why shouldn't they be? Candy canes are to Christmas what pumpkins are to Halloween, colored eggs are to Easter or latkes are to Hanukkah: foods without which the holiday wouldn't be the same.
No wonder nearly 2 billion candy canes are manufactured around the world every year around this time -- enough to ensure you won't run out before National Candy Cane Day, which is the day after Christmas.
Candy canes have become so integral to Yuletide, some Christians see religious significance in just about every aspect of them. For example, being a hard candy, the candy cane is supposed to remind us Christ is like a rock; the white part of the candy purportedly represents the purity of Jesus; the red stripes are meant to symbolize Christ's blood (as unappetizing as that may be); the shape allegedly represents a shepherd's staff, not unlike those carried by the herdsmen who visited the baby Jesus at his birthplace; and the peppermint flavor of a candy cane ostensibly is reminiscent of the gift of spices from the Magi. Plus, if you turn a candy cane upside down it becomes a J -- for Jesus.
Yet steeped in significance and fundamental to the holidays as they are, it is not altogether clear how candy canes became so emblematic of the season. There are several competing explanations; however, many historians say the evidence for any of them is thin to nonexistent.
Probably the account that has the greatest consensus, and the one supported by the National Confectioners Association, involves the choirmaster at the Cologne Cathedral back in 1670, who was hoping to keep the children in his choir occupied so they wouldn't become distracted or disruptive during long worship services. He thought giving them candy might do the trick, but not the straight sticks of hard candy already popular then. Instead, he cleverly had the candy made in the shape of a shepherd's crook, as much as anything, perhaps, through religious symbolism to justify the distribution of candy during church.
Though these very well may have been the first candy canes, they didn't look exactly like the ones we have today. They were all white.
The red-striped candy cane would come much later, around the turn of the 20th century.
Credit for that often goes to Bob McCormack, a Georgia candy maker who also was the first to wrap the candies in cellophane. (Normally it's only after being wrapped that warm candy canes get their warble -- that's the curved part -- as they are carefully bent.)
McCormack's brother-in-law, it turns out, was the first person to patent a candy cane-making machine. Perhaps fittingly for a food so imbued with religious significance, he was a Roman Catholic priest.
In any case, if you've ever seen a recipe for homemade candy canes, you know his invention is truly miraculous.
Go ahead and make your own candy canes if you insist, but this treat from Dominique Ansel, creator of the cronut, is far less arduous and, to tell the truth, so much better. The recipe is adapted from Food & Wine magazine.
Combine butter, sugar, water and salt and stir over moderate heat until temperature reaches 298 degrees. Remove from heat and stir in vanilla and peppermint extract. Pour onto a baking sheet lined with a silicone baking mat or parchment paper and spread in an even layer. Cool completely.
Microwave half of chocolate at full power, stirring at 30-second intervals, until just beginning to melt. Add remaining chocolate and stir until smooth. Spread half of melted chocolate on the cooled peppermint brittle, sprinkle with half of crushed candy canes, and let stand until set.
Flip candy, remove parchment or baking mat and coat underside with remaining melted chocolate and crushed candy canes. Let stand until set and break into pieces for serving.
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