Wednesday, July 30, 2014

S'mores, Interrupted

S'mores weren't exactly on our family summer list. Not the way blueberry picking and camping were; special activities that we needed to make an effort to accomplish before summer's end. S'mores are more something that usually just happens around our house without too much difficulty. We usually have chocolate and graham crackers around, particularly since our daughter's favorite snack is graham crackers and sharp white cheddar. Yeah, it doesn't appeal to me either, but I can't really criticize since I'm always telling her that it's okay for different people to like different things. Anyway, we usually have at least two thirds of the components for s'mores and so all we have to do is remember to pick up marshmallows at the grocery store and then the next time we cook on the grill we're in business. S'mores aren't even particularly seasonal, since in the mid-Atlantic you can use a grill in reasonable comfort for at least eight months of the year

Except this summer it hasn't been so simple. On our first s'mores attempt we realized after dinner that we didn't have marshmallows after all. My husband and I were both sure that we had them; we were so confident that at the grocery store we looked at them and said "naaah..." and walked away without them. I am not sure where our misplaced certainty came from but the s'mores did not come about that week. Our second s'mores attempt we had all the ingredients assembled on a plate. We had gone out for a walk earlier that evening to locate replacements for our marshmallow toasting sticks, since the old ones had been broken up by our daughter in some imaginary game. We were completely ready to go, and then the grill wouldn't light. Apparently we had run out of propane.

Finally, tonight, the third time was the charm. We had the marshmallows, we had the propane, we had our toasting sticks, our graham crackers and our dark chocolate. Milk chocolate is more traditional, I know, but everyone in our family prefers dark chocolate, including our almost four year old daughter. We had a lovely evening and we were able to toast and crunch to our heart's content. It was, at last, the sweet taste of success.

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