The Best Cookies With Hershey's Kisses: Fudgy Bonbons
Fudgy Bonbons With Hershey's Kisses— Made Even More Magical With Milk
Fudgy Bonbons With Hershey's Kisses —Take a Bite and Discover a Yummy Surprise!
As the mother of two sons, I always need to bake cookies for one event or another —the boy scout camp out, the end-of-the-season soccer potluck, a thank you gift for teachers and coaches, a snack for ravenous teens working on an after school project. Since my boys are notorious for giving me no advanced warning, I don't have time to search my recipe files for something new so I turn to a surefire hit— Fudgy Bonbons With Hershey's Kisses. You can't go wrong with these soft, rich, and delectable cookies that not only look impressive but taste out of this world. Watch smiles spread across faces as folks bite into them and discover a yummy surprise.
Fudgy Bonbons With Hershey's Kisses -- Fun to Bake and Even More Fun to Eat
- 1 package 12 ounces semisweet chocolate chips
- 1/4 cup butter
- 2 cups all-purpose flour
- 1/2 cup finely chopped nuts, optional
- 24 milk chocolate Hershey Kisses, unwrapped
- 2 ounces white chocolate chips, or mint chips
- 1 teaspoon vegetable oil or shortening
1) Gather the ingredients.
How to Make Fudgy Bonbons With Hershey's Kisses
- Gather the ingredients.
- Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Melt the chocolate chips and butter in saucepan over low heat.
- Remove from heat. Add the sweetened condensed milk.
- Add the flour, nuts, and vanilla. Mix well.
- Unwrap Kisses.
- Completely cover Kisses with dough
- Place on ungreased cookie sheet 1" apart. Bake for 6-8 minutes. Cookies will appear soft and shiny.
- Melt white chocolate with vegetable oil, stirring in a saucepan over low heat. Drizzle over cookies.
- Cool. Eat and enjoy!
2) Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Melt chocolate chips and butter over low heat.
3) Remove from heat. 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) Place 1" apart on ungreased cookie sheet. Bake for 6 to 8 minutes.
8) Melt white chocolate with vegetable oil, stirring in saucepan over low heat.
9) Drizzle over cookies. Cool. Eat and enjoy!
Do Fudgy Bonbons With Hershey's Kisses Bring a Smile to Your Face?
Fudgy Bonbons With Hershey's Kisses
|Serving size: 24|
|Calories from Fat||3420|
|% Daily Value *|
|Fat 380 g||585%|
|Sugar 771 g|
|Protein 136 g||272%|
|Sodium 1180 mg||49%|
|* The Percent Daily Values are based on a 2,000 calorie diet, so your values may change depending on your calorie needs. The values here may not be 100% accurate because the recipes have not been professionally evaluated nor have they been evaluated by the U.S. FDA.|
Fudgy Bonbons With Hershey's Kisses and Me—It Wasn't Meant to Be
Long before I got married, my sister was already firmly ensconced in family life with her husband and three kids. Each Christmas, without fail, she'd bake dozens of holiday cookies and present plates of them to family and friends, neighbors and co-workers, teachers and coaches. She'd switch up the cookies each year for variety's sake, but Fudgy Bonbons with Hershey's Kisses remained constant because so many folks requested them. When I had a family of my own, I couldn't wait to copy her generous cookie giving tradition. But it wasn't meant to be.
One December I slaved day and night to make seven kinds of cookies. My sons were 4 and 1 at the time—too young to help but just old enough to make it a nightmare. I was proud of myself when I finally finished and the cookies were elegantly arranged on red and green plates, wrapped festively with matching red and green curled ribbon. All the hard work was behind me and I was awaiting the accolades: “Oh, wow, how did you manage to make ALL those scrumptious cookies with two little ones? They look absolutely AMAZING! You're absolutely AMAZING!” But it wasn't meant to be.
Life Is Like a Plate of Cookies— It's All Good So Don't Compare
As my 4-year-old son, Max, and I walked two blocks to preschool, my excitement compounded as I carried a plate of cookies in my hands. Max had the most captivating preschool teacher in the entire universe and I was so eager to present the cookies as a token of my admiration and appreciation. As we stood in the hallway, waiting for the classroom door to open, I looked around at the other moms and they, too, were holding plates of homemade treats— some even more impressive looking than mine. Looking down at my plate of cookies, I saw them differently than I had just a few minutes earlier. They looked deformed and unappealing. When the door opened, parents and children filed into the classroom. Max asked if he could hold the cookies and present them to his teacher. I carefully placed the plate on his two flat outstretched hands. He took a couple steps and dropped the plate, sending cookies skidding across the linoleum. It wasn't meant to be.
I felt humiliated as I scurried around the hall, picking up cookies and tossing them into the trash as moms watched with grieved expressions while remarking: "What a shame!" I then did something that I still regret today, ten years later. I pulled Max around the corner where no one could see us and admonished him like I never had before and never have since—scolding his carelessness but in a whisper so nobody could hear. When Max entered the classroom, I was left alone—feeling guilty and ashamed. I was never going to be the mother who sewed her children's Halloween costumes, who coached her kids' soccer team, who grew vegetables and herbs with her youngsters in their backyard garden, who made plates of fancy Christmas cookies to give to everyone she knew. It wasn't meant to be.
I had long-suspected something was different with Max and those suspicions were confirmed when he was diagnosed with high functioning autism. The family life I thought we'd lead was forever altered. The child I imagined in my dreams when I was pregnant was gone and replaced with a new one— just as lovable but more challenging. I needed to simplify my life so I could channel all my energies into helping Max reach his full potential. It was a different road than the other moms were traveling— lonely and scary at times. But it was meant to be.
Just as my plate of Christmas cookies had looked inadequate compared to others, my son with autism sometimes seemed lacking compared to his peers. His muscle tone was weak, his coordination awkward, his speech difficult to understand, his eye contact non-existent. When he became excited or anxious, he would “stim” (self-stimulate), flapping his little arms like a newborn bird just hatched from an egg and struggling to fly. Yet, when I stopped comparing Max to other kids, I learned to see him as he really was—not someone lacking but someone whole and wonderfully unique—.just like he was always meant to be.
© 2015 McKenna Meyers