The Best Popcorn Ever

Shhhhh…. I’m about to let you in on a secret. And I’m serious when I say, if you like holiday treats, this popcorn will rock your world. (I don’t say rock your world very often.)

I started making Kay’s popcorn four years ago, but I’ve been eating it all my life. And I can’t share the recipe without sharing her story.

Kay Coles lived just a few houses down from us on Valley View, where I grew up. She was the loveliest lady. A grandma with grandchildren back east and a heart that could hold the world. At least everyone she met in it. We fondly called Kay, “Candy Coles” because every time we rang her doorbell she’d welcome us into her living room for colored sour balls. Or if it was just me and my sister Deb, she’d take us into the kitchen for milk and chocolate cake, followed by a trip downstairs to her toy room to play with her baby dolls and the beautiful cradles her husband Bob made in his wood shop.

I remember each time my Mom had a baby, Kay would bring us a gorgeous homemade apple pie, with a thick piped crust, perfectly golden brown, unlike anything I’d ever seen. She was an extraordinary baker.

And every Christmas she’d walk up the hill to bring us her baked caramel popcorn. She would hand us a ziplock bag with a red bow, packed tight with popcorn, and we’d inhale it in a matter of minutes. Down to the crumbles. You see, Kay’s caramel popcorn isn’t sticky and gooey like most popcorns. It doesn’t cement your teeth together. It melts in your mouth. You have to eat it to believe it. And once you start munching, you can’t stop.

So we asked for her recipe. Again and again. But she never divulged.

“I can’t give you the recipe,” she’d say. “But I’ll make you another batch.” And she would.

The year I moved back to Utah, Kay passed away. Her grandchildren lived near us in Virginia and during one of her last visits there, she and Bob stopped by to meet our new baby girls.

I am so grateful for this memory with them. Eliza was almost two.

At the funeral, Kay’s son mentioned that many people over the years had asked for Kay’s popcorn recipe. My sisters and I shared a knowing smile. Then, to our surprise, he announced that he had made copies for those who wanted it after the services.

That Christmas I made bags and bags of popcorn for all our new neighbors. On each bag, I tied a tag that read, “Made at Christmastime in memory of our friend, Kay.” I told everyone about Kay. Funny enough, the food editor for the Tribune lived in our neighborhood and she loved it so much she asked if Kay’s recipe and story could run in the local paper. I asked Bob for permission and he said yes.

Kay’s popcorn is wonderful for parties, movies, gifts, or to devour right off the pan. Don’t be embarrassed if you find yourself greedily scooping up the last of the crumbs off the pan and eating them right out of your hand. We do. Every time.

So here’s what you need: