Our plates were buttered and ready. Mama finished stirring the hot taffy and took it from the stove. Some of the hot sweet syrupy candy was poured into each dish. We had to wait until it was cool enough to work. I always managed to stick my buttered hands into the sticky goo while it was still too hot. Once I could get my hands in it without burning myself, I would start working the taffy.
almost ready to pour out
Salt Water Taffy is what Mama made. We would have people over to share our Taffy Pull. It was often the Youth Group in our church. I don’t think any of those kids knew about a Taffy Pull. Taffy was something they bought in the store twisted in waxed wrappers.
If anybody was walking by the house and looked through the window, they would have wondered at the sight. All hands were pulling taffy. The object was to pull and twist, put end to end and go at it again. Sometimes someone else would grab one end of the taffy to help pull and twist. We’d see how long we could stretch it before it broke. The taffy was a soft yellow color when it was first poured into our dishes. After it was worked for a while, it was almost white. My forearms and hands would be sore for a day or two. When it was all done, I wrapped my taffy in waxed paper, took it to my room and hid it in the nightstand drawer by my bed. One time I ate so much taffy I got sick. For weeks, I couldn’t even open the drawer because just the sight or smell of it turned my stomach.
When my kids were little, I decided we needed to have a Taffy Pull. We invited some people over, some well over my age, who had never even heard of a Taffy Pull. The plates were buttered, and I poured a little bit of hot taffy in each. It was fun to be able to pass along something from my childhood. It didn’t have quite the allure as when I was young. I could still see that wrapped up taffy stuck in my drawer! Maybe it’s time to have a Taffy Pull will the grandkids!