The nephew, though he’s lived on this planet 8 whole years, had yet to see “The Sandlot” or eaten a s’more. (Although he said, and I quote, “I’ve had something like a s’more.” That doesn’t count, kid.) Those two things needed to be rectified. So I told him to wear his pajamas and come over after dinner for movie night. It was a blast. He loved the movie (natch) and we also rectified the fact that Husband has only seen The Sandlot once. Years ago. A little after we were married I realized that Matt didn’t get what I was referencing when I spoke the word “forever” like Squints (FORE-ev-VUR. FORE-ev-VUUR. FORE-ev-VHUURR.) so I made him watch it. Funnily enough we hadn’t seen it since. It was nice to be back in the world of the ‘50’s, with baseball, the Bambino, the Beast, and summertime and friendship.
Being the sort of food-obsessed aunt that I am, I knew s’mores had to be involved. Homemade s’mores, more specifically. Having made graham crackers and marshmallows before, I knew it was doable. Graham crackers are actually pretty easy. The nephew even lent a hand. I whipped up this recipe in the food processor, and we rolled it out and cut out the shapes together with cookie cutters. Making homemade grahams is a lot like making pie dough, but significantly less fussy. He’s a great helper in the kitchen. He may not be a foodie—at least not yet—but he has the makings of a great cook. I’m a proud auntie.
Grahams baked, marshmallow whipped into a fluff, we were ready to rock and roll. Right in time for the “CAMP OUT!” scene. Matt and I took turns using the the kitchen creme brulee torch to the big spoonfuls of mallow resting atop the grahams for some toasty, indoor campfire-esque goodness. Boy did this excite the nephew. And for good reason, blow torching is fun! (Don’t tell my parole officer I said that. haha) So finding a safe and secret place for my wonderfully destructive kitchen toy is something I now have to do.
These s’mores rocked my bobby socks. Matt’s lederhosen, too. The nephew was less impressed. Turns out, he doesn’t like marshmallows. Ah well. He loved the graham crackers, though. Ate a bunch, even scraps of the dough before they were baked. And had a square of milk chocolate. So he was a happy camper. Happy camp-out-er.
My only complaint of the night was that since I had DVR’ed the movie, they played a version where the cut out the s’mores scene! Thanks a lot ABC Family! But we held a flashlight under our chins and hyped up the Beast, played by our own little Beast of a Beagle, Sparky, and told of his atrocities: swallowing berries whole. Not the same as eating a kid, but I works with whats I gots.
Epic movie night, for sure. And look at these s’mores. Ooey gooey awesome.
Go ahead and say it. I know you want to. My name is Smalls and I’m killing you with that photo right now, right?
I had something amazing for breakfast.
And then I had it again for breakfast. And then Husband and I ate it as dessert. And I had it yet again for breakfast. And then we made it into grilled cheeses.
And then the ridiculously great chocolate sourdough loaf was gone.
And then I baked another. And I’m still enamored by this cocoa’d bread studded with hunks of dark chocolate. It’s not a very sweet bread. But egads is it chocolatey.
I’ve always been a fan of the humble yet effective combination of chocolate & mint. I used to think that Thin Mints, Andes Mints, York Peppermint Patties, and their brethren, were classy and very grown up sweets. And I couldn’t wait ‘til I grew up because then I could get a job and spend my money on whatever I wanted. And one of those things I had my heart set on was an endless supply of chocolate mints.
One of my favorite teachers was my fourth grade teacher, Ms. T. It was the end of the year and I wanted to buy her something to let her know how much I admired, adored, and appreciated her. A classy lady like that deserved a classy present. So I bought her a box of chocolate mints (or rather, my Mom bought them and I took credit for the whole thing). Because chocolate mints are grown up, delicious, and classy — was pretty much my reasoning there.
Are chocolate mints still classy? I have no idea anymore. The word classy has been diluted for me by people who clearly do not share my views on the matter. But I do know that they’re delicious and I will continue eating them always. And making mint chocolate bark. Because I can. I’m an adult now and I can eat all the mint chocolate I can get my mitts on. Sometimes childhood dreams do come true.