Homemade Mocha Fudge Pops Recipe

I’ve taken a million pictures and have a ton of recipes to share, but little time to whip these posts up. As I’ve gone through the past few weeks of events and trying new things around the house, I’ll snap a picture or scratch a note down for things I want to blog about; the pile is high. As I surf around and look at blog after blog of picture plump tutorials, recipes, daily activities… I can’t help but wonder how everyone finds the time. Not only the time but – does the food go to waste sometimes during these blogazine post tutorials (’cause every “blog post” is now a “tutorial” yanno – yes, please show me how you scoop sugar from a container, would you, I need to know)?  I’m probably over-thinking it, but whatever.

Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely LOVE the internet and its vast amount of free knowledge and entertainment. But, the more I surf, the more I notice assimilation. In the striving to be different than, there is a lot more of becoming the same as. Words, photos, catch phrases… it is interesting. I’m not saying I’m immune, either. It seeps in your veins like an acquired accent (give me 10 minutes in a room with a Southerner and I come out with a drawl). It’s kind of like a hairstyle. People see, people like, people get the same haircut. I guess with a million restaurants, you can still eat your cheeseburger wherever you want, depending where you like on how they make it.

I know I’m bit of an old soul (or old crow), but–and maybe I’ve said this before–things ’round the internet ain’t the same, friend!

Back to those popsicles. One thing about this whole “everyone’s alike” thing is that I don’t have to feel so badly about not taking gorgeous magazine-ready photos while I’m running around like a headless chicken in my kitchen. I get to present with this:

(taken from Franny’s cellphone: L-Chocolate Mocha, R-Avocado Coconut)

Want sexy popsicle? Google images will do ya. My contribution is half-eaten pop and a shaky hand.

My mom made frozen treats all the time. Blendings of kool-aid, yogurts, and sometimes she’d just straight up freeze a banana on a stick and call it a day. I can’t say that I ever really liked any of the frozen popsicles she made (sorry mom). Part of that might have been that they were all sugar-free, or that they were always just a frozen version of a liquid, never tailored to the process. Over the years I’ve gone on popsicle-making binges, the molds always collecting dust and going to the trash bin after  a while. A few weeks ago I was shopping at Marshalls and came across some fun looking molds and it sparked a desire to make them again.

Original yummy recipe from wonderfuljoyahead.com. I very much like this recipe. I collected a few others, but wanted to make this particular one. I also had one for Mocha pops, which Franny preferred to try, but it called for heavy cream and some other high-calorie additions that I didn’t want to dive into. So I compromised with this:


This made 3 pops plus 2 3-oz. mini cups for me. I like having the mini cups (Solo or Dixie) and some sticks for the extra batter. They are the perfect size if you’re just wanting a taste.

2 1/2 T (approx 25 grams) semi-sweet chocolate chips
1/3 C. sugar
1 T. cornstarch
1 1/2 T. unsweetend cocoa powder
1 1/4 C. whole milk
pinch of salt
1/4 tsp. ground cinnamon
1 T. instant coffee (I did not measure this, but am guessing)
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
1/2 T. unsalted butter

Add coffee to milk and stir to mix. Don’t worry if it doesn’t completely mix in. Over very low heat, melt the chocolate chips in a medium saucepan, stirring constantly. Stir in the sugar, cornstarch, cinnamon, and cocoa powder. Add milk in 1/2 cup increments, stirring constantly. Turn heat up to medium once all the milk is added. Cook about 5-10 minutes, until the mixture coats the spoon well and turns to a thin pudding consistency.

Remove the pan from the heat, add the vanilla, and butter. Stir to combine. Let cool for a bit, and then pour into your molds. Wait until it’s fully frozen, at least 3 hours.

These were yummy. You could taste the fudge and the coffee.

Onto the AVOCADO COCONUT POPS. These are my favorite. I may have screwed the recipe up a bit or stumbled upon brilliance (I think I forgot to boil the sugar/water – at least on the first batch). I honestly do not know how I can jumble up a popsicle recipe? Maybe this is two recipes in one. Regardless, these bad boys are t-t-tasty. Original recipe here. Please don’t compare it with what I’ve done because clearly I went wildly amiss.



  • 1 cup coconut milk
  • 1 cup sugar (the 2nd batch I made with 1/2 cup sugar… see note below)
  • 1 avocado (pitted and peeled)
  • Pinch of salt
  • the juice of 1 lime (or about 2T. lime juice)
  • 1 tsp. vanilla
Mix all ingrediants using a blender (I used an immersion blender). Be sure to mix well. Pour into molds. Freeze and enjoy (5 hours later). I took the suggestion of the fudge pop recipe and replaced the vanilla with mint in this avocado recipe in the second batch. YUM.
Notes: You can use small cups, easily. Just pour in, top with a piece of foil or plastic wrap and put the stick through that (the foil or wrap holds the stick in place). I found that poking a small hole prior to putting the wrap on made the stick insertion easier. Keep in mind if you use foil and are making more than one flavor, you’ll want to mark the flavor on the stick (the part that is sticking out) so you know what you’re getting into before you unwrap it. A lot of recipes will tell you to freeze the pops for x amount of hours, then insert the stick, but I just don’t have the attention span to babysit my popsicles. So I wrap and insert.
I didn’t notice a huge difference with lowering the sugar in the avocado pops. That’s kind of a flavor choice thing. Sal wanted (literally) avocado popsicles. “These are sweet!” He said, disgusted. This is the kid who now freezes straight up milk for his popsicles.
Yeah. Freezing liquids (gatorade, 7-up and cherry juice) has now become an obsession around the house. I can think of worse.


Here I think I’m doing so much better at blogging, and then I look at my last post and realize that a month has nearly gone by. “Busy” has been the word, bird.

The school year ended. Big D graduated (my first one). It was almost surreal. I’ve been trying to pay attention to each moment, so that kept me from panicking too much. From, well, from slobbering all over myself. I’m such an emotionally-charged person. For years I’ve worked on stuffing my emotions down (probably some self-preservation, guarding). Sometimes I wonder who I am, this person who stands back rather than pushing forward, is nervous at times where I would be fully open and outgoing. I don’t like it. I’ve realized this. My self-preservation mode has brought me to a point where, at times, I’m simply no longer ME. Too often. So when he walked across that stage and grabbed his diploma, instead of blubbering to the ground in a heap of salty tears, I screamed out loud and smiled. I let the joy bubble over. What else is joy supposed to do?

He who never smiles let some joy shine through, too:

Jease. I started out wanting to share a yummy recipe these popsicles I made, and now I have to table that because I’m racing off in another direction. Once. Again. Oh well. Who pays the bills ’round here? Exactly.

I didn’t graduate, not like this. I was pregnant and married when my graduating classed walked across the stage. I suppose I could have continued in school, but I didn’t want to. I was truly ready to move on, excited to go to college more than I was wanting to go back to high-school. I finished up outside of school, and moved on. I missed the experience, though. For a few years I wondered if I should have gone back. It played on my mind a bit. But eventually the present times overrode that desire. I continued on to college instead and found satisfaction there. But still – I haven’t graduated college! It’s on my list of things to do. But I do want more for my kids. Doesn’t every parent? My oldest didn’t graduate, so this was my first experience with a child walking across the stage. It isn’t mandatory, but it is symbolic. The younger brothers got to experience it (they haven’t before). Frank and I got to (I never have). It is closure, but also an open door. Everyone went, from Sophia to the twins. We experienced the joy, the sadness, the nervousness, the excitement — together.


Graduation kept us busy. Two days later – graduation party. It went well. More on that next time.


A Generous Theif

How are my kids growing up so fast?

I suppose this means I’m getting old(er). Obviously. I surrender and fight.

Next weekend is Dante’s graduation party. When we set the date it seemed so far off, and here is comes at the speed of light. Sophia is already 20 years old, living in an apartment a few miles away. Dante will be heading off to college in the fall (and this summer). Though I’m not yet 40, life marks us in stages rather than ages sometimes, and I am the mother of two young adult children (and three other teenagers).

Yesterday I took the youngest three to the park, and they played on the baseball diamond while I walked around the path. A path I’ve walked many times; alone, with Frank, with the kids, all of us as a family. One night in the thick of winter, it was icy, crisp and black, I walked the path under the stars. I was sad, angry and needed to just be out in an open space, to move and not think.

Yesterday I allowed time to slow on me, walking the dog, listening, thinking, smelling, feeling. Being present as much as possible. I people-watched as two mothers (possibly my age, but with infants), donned in track suits with their babies in strollers, warmed up on the basketball court in bounding leaps towards the strollers, the retreated in a light jog back across the court. Bounding leaps, light jogs. Back and forth. They looked incredibly ridiculous. I applauded their efforts of sacrificing appearances for fitness. My mind then wandered to ponder to what a pioneer from long ago would think of such a sight. After all, who needed to a run treadmills and make crazy in in public to be fit back then? Who would have thought in the future people would have to set aside time to work a body hard?

My mind carried on to the next scene, young soccer players darting after a ball. Quite a contrast to last weekend’s games where big boys with muscles and five o’clock shadows prowled the field. They were young once, too. I remember it. Vividly. Franny and Sal especially.

My what time does. It robs you and gifts you simultaneously. A generous thief.