Perfectly Toasted Marshmallows….
January 15, 2012 § 4 Comments
I was waxing nostalgic the other day after having some conversation online with a friend from my youth. She and I were active Campfire Girls in elementary school. Mom was our leader and there were so many things we got to do to earn beads and patches. We baked bread for a “heritage fair” and another group made butter, and another jam and we put our booths next to each other so people could enjoy the butter and jam on our bread. We put the bread in one of those turkey roasters to reheat so you could smell it all over the exhibition hall. What fun we had!
I particularly enjoyed camp during those years. We would have competitions in knot tying, fire building, and pancake flipping, and I was fairly successful at winning ribbons for our group. We would have cooking lessons over the campfire and built hobo stoves out of coffee cans. One of my favorite meals were “hobo dinners”, which I will cover at a later time, perhaps this summer when I can build a campfire.
All of our camping adventures included one night of weenie roasting and marshmallow toasting. Sometimes there were S’mores, but not always. The marshmallows, however, were always there. Daddy would straighten what seems like dozens of wire hangers for our hot dog and marshmallow roasting pleasures. Most of the girls were in a hurry to get them cooked, and in the process, usually caught them on fire so they had black, charred places on 30% or more of them. I, on the other hand, was committed to the “perfect” toasted marshmallow. Each time, I found a spot of hot coals with no flame and painstakingly turned my marshmallow, rotisserie style, until it turned a lovely shade of dark , golden brown and the insides were nearly liquid (which almost caused them to fall off in the fire). There was nothing so satisfying as that crispy, chewy, caramelized exterior and the melted goodness inside.
Today I was craving these delights and wondered just what to do about it. A campfire was out of the question, I didn’t have any wire hangers, and all I really needed was two marshmallows to cure my craving. Creativity kicked in. I remembered I had some bamboo skewers, and my stove is gas so I had instant flame. Five minutes later I was enjoying perfectly toasted marshmallows again. It wasn’t quite as memorable as my childhood, and I missed the smell of smoke and all my friends, but what memories I was able to re-live just because of a little, white marshmallow…