Clotted Cream Fudge: The British Treat That's Breaking the Internet (Plus How to Make It at Home!)
- Alex Pinard
- 7 hours ago
- 11 min read
I've been making clotted cream fudge for the past three years, and it's become my go-to gift for everyone from my sister-in-law to my book club friends. There's something magical about handing someone a box of homemade fudge and watching their face light up after the first bite. Let me walk you through everything I've learned about this ridiculously delicious British treat.

If you've wandered down the "British Imports" aisle at Trader Joe's lately, you've probably spotted those little boxes of Clotted Cream Fudge sitting there all cute and innocent-looking. And if you're anything like me, you grabbed one, took it home, tried a piece, and then immediately spiraled into a full-blown obsession.
What is this sorcery? Why does it taste like butter and caramel had a baby in the Cotswolds? And most importantly… can I make this at home without selling a kidney for imported British dairy?
The answer is yes, babe. You absolutely can. And I'm about to show you exactly how.
What Even Is Clotted Cream? (A Quick History That Won't Bore You to Death)
Clotted cream comes from Southwest England — specifically Cornwall and Devon, two counties that still have a very serious rivalry over who invented it first. We're talking "scone controversy" levels of drama. (For the record: the correct order is scone, jam, then clotted cream. Fight me, Devon.)
Centuries ago, British farmers needed a way to preserve milk longer before refrigeration was a thing. Their genius solution? Gently heat the milk overnight, let all the fatty cream rise to the top, and allow it to "clot" into this thick, golden, spreadable layer of pure heaven.
Fast forward a few hundred years, and some brilliant person decided to put this luxurious cream into fudge. The high butterfat content creates this ultra-smooth, almost caramel-like texture that's completely different from American fudge. It melts on your tongue. It's rich without being cloying. It's basically what angels snack on during tea time.
Then Trader Joe's started carrying it, millennials discovered it, TikTok happened, and now here we all are — standing in our kitchens at 10 PM wondering if we can make clotted cream in a slow cooker. (Spoiler: you can, and I'm going to tell you how.)
My First Clotted Cream Fudge Experience (And Why You'll Get It)
The first time I tried authentic clotted cream fudge was during a trip to Bath three years ago. I bought a little box from a local market vendor, popped a piece in my mouth while walking past the Roman Baths, and literally stopped in my tracks.
It wasn't like American fudge, which can sometimes be a bit too sweet or waxy. This was silky, buttery, with this subtle caramelized note that made me want to buy twelve more boxes immediately. Instead, I did what any reasonable person would do: I came home and spent the next two weeks perfecting my own recipe.
I've now made this fudge at least 30 times. I've given it as gifts, brought it to holiday parties, and once ate an entire batch by myself over a weekend (no regrets). I've learned what works, what doesn't, and all the little tricks that make the difference between "pretty good" and "please make me another batch immediately."
The Two Ways to Make Clotted Cream Fudge at Home
Here's the deal: you've got two paths here, depending on how much of a kitchen hero you're feeling.
Path 1: Make everything from scratch, including the clotted cream. This takes time (about 24 hours start to finish) but gives you that authentic British experience and costs way less than buying imported clotted cream.
Path 2: Use the genius Trader Joe's dupe recipe that involves dulce de leche and white chocolate. This takes about 3 hours total and tastes shockingly close to the real deal.
I'm giving you both recipes because I believe in meeting you where you're at. Some days you want the full artisan experience. Other days you just want to throw some ingredients in a bowl and have fudge by dinnertime. Both are valid life choices.

How to Make Clotted Cream from Scratch (It's Easier Than You Think)
I promise this isn't some fussy British lady recipe that requires special equipment. You literally need two things: heavy cream and an oven that goes to 180°F. That's it.
What You'll Need
Ingredients:
2 cups heavy cream (NOT ultra-pasteurized — this is important; ultra-pasteurized won't clot properly)
A shallow baking dish
Optional: cheesecloth for straining, mason jar for storage
Pro tip: Check your cream label. You want regular pasteurized cream. Ultra-pasteurized has been heated to a higher temperature, which denatures the proteins and prevents proper clotting. Most organic creams are regular pasteurized, so that's usually your best bet.
The Method (Slow But Simple)
Step 1: Preheat and pour Set your oven to 180-200°F. If your oven doesn't go that low (mine bottoms out at 170°F and it still works), that's fine — just get it as low as possible. Pour your cream into the shallow baking dish. You want it about 1-2 inches deep.
Step 2: The overnight magic Put the dish in the oven and leave it there for 10-12 hours. I usually start this before bed so it's ready by morning. Do NOT open the oven. Do NOT stir it. Just let physics do its thing.
What's happening: The gentle, sustained heat causes the cream's fat to separate and rise to the top, where it forms a thick, golden layer. This is the clotted cream. The liquid beneath is essentially buttermilk.
Step 3: Cool and chill In the morning, you'll see this beautiful wrinkled, golden "skin" on top. This is exactly what you want. Let the whole thing cool to room temperature (about 2 hours), then refrigerate for another 8-12 hours.
Step 4: Harvest your cream Once it's fully chilled, use a spoon or small spatula to carefully lift or scoop off that thick top layer. Transfer it to a jar. This is your clotted cream, and you just made it with two ingredients and patience.
The liquid left behind? That's not trash — it's basically cultured buttermilk. Save it for scones, pancakes, or biscuits. Waste not, want not, friend.
Real Talk: What It Actually Looks and Tastes Like
When you first make this, you might think "this looks kind of weird." The golden wrinkly skin can seem a bit off-putting if you're expecting something smooth. But once you taste it? Oh my god. It's thick, spreadable, slightly sweet, with this rich buttery-caramel flavor that's unlike anything else.
Store it in an airtight container in the fridge for up to 5 days. Though honestly, in my house it never lasts that long.
The Authentic Clotted Cream Fudge Recipe
Now we're getting to the good stuff. This is the recipe I've refined over three years of fudge-making experiments. It's based on traditional British fudge techniques but with my own tweaks for success.
Ingredients
1 cup homemade clotted cream (or store-bought if you can find it)
1 cup white granulated sugar
½ cup light brown sugar (packed)
¼ cup unsalted butter (½ stick)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Pinch of salt (optional, but I always add it)
Equipment you'll need:
Heavy-bottomed saucepan (this prevents scorching)
Candy thermometer (non-negotiable — trust me on this)
8x8 inch pan lined with parchment paper
The Method (Where Precision Matters)
Step 1: Prep your pan Line your 8x8 pan with parchment paper, leaving some overhang on the sides. This makes it so much easier to lift the fudge out later. Set aside.
Step 2: Combine and melt In your saucepan, combine the clotted cream, both sugars, and butter. Put it over medium heat and stir constantly until everything melts together and the mixture is smooth. This takes about 5 minutes.
Step 3: The critical temperature phase Clip your candy thermometer to the side of the pan. Keep stirring occasionally (every 30 seconds or so) and watch that temperature climb. You're aiming for exactly 239°F — this is called the "soft ball stage" in candy making, and it's what gives fudge its perfect texture.
Why this matters: Below 239°F and your fudge will be too soft, almost like frosting. Above 242°F and it'll be grainy and crumbly. That 3-degree window is crucial.
Step 4: The patience test Once you hit 239°F, remove from heat and — this is the hard part — DO NOT TOUCH IT. Just let it sit there for 5 minutes. I know you want to stir it. I know you're excited. Don't do it. This cooling period is essential for the right crystallization.
Step 5: Add flavor and beat After 5 minutes, add your vanilla and that pinch of salt. Now you can stir — and you're going to stir vigorously with a wooden spoon for 5-8 minutes. Your arm will get tired. This is normal. You're looking for the mixture to thicken and lose its glossy shine. It should look matte and start to hold its shape.
The trick I learned: When the fudge starts to pull away from the sides of the pan slightly as you stir, it's ready to pour.
Step 6: Set and slice Pour into your prepared pan and smooth the top. Let it sit at room temperature for 2-3 hours until completely set. Then lift it out using the parchment overhang and cut into squares.
My Biggest Lessons from Making This 30+ Times
Lesson 1: Fresh clotted cream works better than old. If your homemade clotted cream has been sitting in the fridge for 4-5 days, it won't incorporate as smoothly.
Lesson 2: Humidity matters. On humid days, fudge takes longer to set. If it's super humid, I sometimes pop mine in the fridge for the final hour.
Lesson 3: If your fudge turns out grainy, you can fix it! Add a tablespoon of warm cream, put it back on low heat, and stir until smooth. I've saved many batches this way.
Lesson 4: The beating step is where most people give up too early. Your fudge should look almost like it's starting to seize before you pour it. If it's still glossy and fluid, keep beating.

The Trader Joe's Copycat Recipe (For When You Need Fudge NOW)
Okay, so here's the thing: not everyone has 24 hours to make clotted cream from scratch. And honestly? Sometimes you just want fudge and you want it today. This dupe recipe has been circulating in British expat communities for years, and it's ridiculously good.
Quick Dupe Ingredients
1 can (13.4 oz) dulce de leche
1 stick (½ cup) salted butter
2 cups white chocolate chips (I use Ghirardelli)
1 tablespoon heavy cream
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
The Super Easy Method
Step 1: In a microwave-safe bowl, melt the white chocolate in 20-30 second bursts, stirring between each burst. This usually takes about 90 seconds total. Don't overheat or it'll seize.
Step 2: Add the dulce de leche and butter. Microwave for another 30 seconds, then stir until completely smooth.
Step 3: Mix in the heavy cream and vanilla. Beat with a spoon for about 2 minutes until it thickens slightly.
Step 4: Pour into your parchment-lined 8x8 pan and refrigerate for 2-3 hours.
The result: This tastes about 85-90% like the Trader Joe's version. The white chocolate gives you that creamy, buttery base, and the dulce de leche provides the caramelized sweetness. It's not quite as rich as authentic clotted cream fudge, but it scratches the same itch.
When I Use Each Recipe
I make the authentic version when:
I'm giving fudge as gifts to people I really want to impress
I have a weekend at home with no plans
I want that true British tea room experience
I make the dupe when:
Someone's birthday is tomorrow and I forgot
I'm stress-baking on a Tuesday night
I need to bring something to a party in 4 hours
Both are delicious. Both are worth making. Zero shame in either direction.
Troubleshooting: What to Do When Fudge Goes Wrong
Because it will. I've had fudge disasters, and you probably will too. Here's how to fix them.
Problem: Fudge won't set and stays soft What happened: Didn't reach 239°F or you live somewhere very humid. The fix: Put it back in the pan, add 2 tablespoons sugar, and bring it back up to temperature. Then beat and pour again.
Problem: Fudge is grainy and crumbly What happened: Overcooked past 242°F or stirred during the cooling period. The fix: Add 1-2 tablespoons warm cream, heat gently while stirring, and it should smooth out. If it doesn't, embrace it as "rustic texture" and tell everyone it's intentional.
Problem: Fudge is separating or looks oily What happened: The butter separated, usually from too-high heat or old ingredients. The fix: Beat it vigorously with a fork. Sometimes this re-emulsifies it. If not, crumble it over ice cream and call it a topping.
Problem: Clotted cream didn't clot What happened: Ultra-pasteurized cream or oven was too hot/cold. The fix: Unfortunately, you're just left with cooked cream. Use it in coffee or baking, get regular pasteurized cream, and try again.
How to Serve, Gift, and Store Your Fudge
Storage Tips
Room temperature: Keep in an airtight container for up to 5 days. I line mine with parchment between layers.
Refrigerated: Up to 2 weeks in an airtight container. Let it come to room temp before serving for best texture.
Frozen: Up to 3 months. Wrap individual pieces in wax paper, then store in a freezer bag. Thaw overnight in the fridge.
Serving Ideas I Actually Use
The lazy afternoon snack: Cut into small squares, plate with fresh strawberries, and pair with black tea or coffee.
The impressive dessert board: Arrange fudge squares with shortbread cookies, grapes, and maybe some dark chocolate. Add a small bowl of clotted cream for people to spread on the shortbread.
The holiday gift: Cut into squares, wrap each piece in wax paper or cellophane, and pack in a decorative tin. Add a little tag with storage instructions. People lose their minds over homemade fudge gifts.
The ice cream topper: Crumble fudge over vanilla ice cream. The temperature contrast is chef's kiss.
The breakfast rebellion: Cut a small piece and have it with your morning coffee. You're an adult. You make the rules now.
Gift Packaging Ideas
I'm a big believer in the gift presentation, so here's what I do:
Individual wrapping: Cut fudge into squares, wrap each in wax paper, twist the ends like candy.
Tin presentation: Layer fudge pieces in a decorative tin with parchment between layers. Add a printed label that says "Homemade Clotted Cream Fudge" and include the storage instructions.
Mason jar method: For the dupe recipe, layer broken fudge pieces in a small mason jar. Tie ribbon around the top and attach a tag.
The overachiever special: Make a little gift box with fudge, a small jar of homemade clotted cream, some tea bags, and a handwritten recipe card.

Final Thoughts from Someone Who's Been in the Fudge Trenches
Look, I'll be honest: the first time I made clotted cream fudge, I messed it up. It was grainy, it didn't set properly, and I almost gave up. But I tried again because that memory of eating it in Bath was too good to let go.
Now, three years and countless batches later, this fudge has become part of my identity. My friends request it. My family expects it at holidays. I've built genuine skill and knowledge around something that started as a random obsession with a British candy I tried on vacation.
That's the thing about developing real expertise in something — even something as seemingly simple as fudge. You learn the nuances. You understand why things work. You can troubleshoot problems and adapt when things go wrong. And when you share that knowledge authentically, people can tell.
So whether you're making this for gifts, for yourself, or because you stumbled down the same Trader Joe's rabbit hole I did three years ago, I hope this guide gives you the confidence to actually do it. And when you pull that first perfect batch out of the pan and taste it? Send me a message. I want to hear about it.
Now grab that candy thermometer, pour yourself a cocktail, and let's make some fudge.
Alex is the creator of Turasona, where she shares lazy girl lifestyle hacks, passive income strategies, and the occasional obsessive deep-dive into whatever she's currently fixated on (this month: British fudge, apparently). When she's not testing recipes or finding new ways to make life easier, she's probably drinking a cocktail and plotting her next "happy journey."





