As the mixture reached the desired color, she quickly stirred in the margarine, then the soda, and with a quick and graceful move that belied her 93 years, she poured the molten hot mixture to the foil. That's when it got interesting. She scooted the foil over the edge of the counter. Like peanut-encrusted lava, the mixture began flowing quickly to the edge of the foil. Just before it reached the point of no return or fingers, she pulled it back, gave the foil a quick 180-degree turn, and again scooted it over the edge of the counter, sending the lava oozing toward the floor, again pulling back just in the nick of time.
Speed is essential because it quickly begins to harden.
What these dangerous brittle gymnastics produced was a beautiful, delicately-thin golden wafer, unlike the thick chunky stuff usually found at the supermarket. She then scooted the foil to a cooler portion of the counter. And as the mixture cooled further, she gently raised the edges and separated the foil from the brittle. When it was completely cooled she broke it by hand and put it into a resealable plastic bag, which joined several more tucked away in the cupboard. But not before I grabbed a sample.