S’mores are only for campfires.
It’s a rule everyone knows.
After all, if we had s’mores every day, they wouldn’t be special, right?
God thinks so, too. That’s why “thou shalt not roast s’mores except around the campfire” is one of the ten (or so) commandments, somewhere after “dude, you gotta quit coveting your brother’s Pokemon cards or else do an extra job to earn the money to buy some for yourself.” (Psst… that last one is also known as the You Git What You Git and You Don’t Throw a Fit commandment, or, alternatively, the Get Off Your Whiny Hiney, Kiddo, and Fix Your Problem commandment. It’s almost like God was a parent, you guys.)
So. S’mores are only for campfires. The Bible says so.
Did you know you can make s’mores at home? Like, right in your kitchen? By the heat of your stove?
I mean … shhhhh … you can.
Of course, I first discovered home-bound s’mores-making when I was 16 and my mom wasn’t home to tell me that roasting marshmallows over the open stove flame is poor form. And probably dangerous. And generally a bad idea. So, in a fit of brilliance, I stuck a marshmallow on a fork and roasted away. And ate. And roasted again. And ate. And roasted again. Mmm!
Maybe you already know all about at-home s’mores. But just in case you’re missing this important life skill, I feel it’s my duty to lead you astray. You are, after all, my kind of people. I owe you. And I pay my debts in junk food.
And so, here you go.
1. Secretly buy miscellaneous chocolate candy at the store, and stuff it way down deep in your purse with the matchbox cars and used Kleenex and empty lip gloss cadavers. Your goal? That no one will find them. Maybe, if you’re really lucky, not even you.
2. At home, assemble the s’mores fixin’s.
3. Glance over at your extra-grody stove top, realize that it’s no place for taking bloggy pictures, and feel overcome with the certainty that you’ll never have it all together. Ever. Sigh in frustration and add a few piratey ARGHs for maximum expression of self-directed angst.
4. Now choose to reject shame. Again. Because, by golly, this is life with children. It’s messy. And full of burnt noodles.
5. Do your pride a solid and semi-wash that stove top. Not, like, thoroughly or anything extreme. Who has the time? But, even though almost no one will notice, your heart and your Marine father will be glad you did. That, for today, is enough.
6. Move on. Sheesh, Beth.
7. After you put chocolate on the graham cracker, zap it in the microwave for 30 seconds or ’til just melty.
8. Enlist a herd of small children and neighborhood teenagers to
burn sugar onto roast marshmallows over the stove burner. **
**FYI, my firefighter friends do not approve this message.
9. Assemble drippy, melty, semi-burnt, perfect, delicious s’mores.
And eat ’em.
10. Wonder how in the world you’ve gained back 16 of the 40 pounds you once lost. Gosh. Life is full of mysteries, isn’t it?
Enjoy breaking the s’mores rules, friends!
P.S. This is Cai, while camping, one s’more in. He had at least 4 more that night.
When he finished, there were graham crackers in his ears and marshmallow on his spine, is what I’m saying.
P.P.S. And then he passed out.
Which makes me wonder why Sugar Comas aren’t a recommended sleep aid.
If you have a favorite s’mores recipe, do share it in the comments! My friend Molly puts her marshmallows in Oreo cookies (genius!) and my friend Eric substitutes the graham crackers for snickerdoodles and roasts the entire concoction over the flame to caramelize the cinnamon sugar (I gained 12 pounds right there – a pound for every bite – and it was worth it).
What’s your s’mores suggestion?