So, when we were at Lisa’s cabin a week and a bit ago, we had s’mores. Because you can’t be at the lake and not have s’mores. We made them over a fire, obviously, but when we got home, there were extra ingredients. So what’s a girl to do? Make (s’)more, that’s what.
I’m not too particular about brand-name marshmallows, those are just the ones we had in the cupboard. And for the chocolate, I just used walmart-brand pure milk chocolate. The graham crackers, however, I prefer the HoneyMaid ones. No-name brand ones just don’t cut it.
(Don’t ask me how I know this, because I totally haven’t made 300 of these in the past week. No, I have not.)
I experimented a bit with how to properly melt the marshmallows, but ended up propping them up with the chocolate on top, leaning the other crackers against the marshmallow/chocolate tower. If I just melted the marshmallows on the bottom crackers and added the chocolate afterward, the chocolate didn’t melt as much as it did if I had it all together to begin with.
For my particular microwave, 8-10 seconds worked perfectly. Basically, I watched them closely and took them out 2-3 seconds after they started puffing up. Putting them in for 20 seconds and walking away is not a good idea (for my particular microwave).
They come out a little messy, but aren’t s’mores yummier when they’re messy? Yes, yes they are.
I lined up the top crackers and let them sit for a minute or so to let the chocolate melt a little more. They’re not as good as cooked-over-the-fire s’mores, and maybe making them in the oven would be better, but I’m an impatient snacker. The quicker the better. And they were really delicious.
I experimented with a few other ingredients, like chocolate chips instead of bar chocolate (only because I ran out of bar chocolate), and once I added a bit of peanut butter (which was quite delicious), but I’m a basic girl. I like the classic s’more.
And I may have to send the rest of the chocolate from our most recent camping trip to work with Noah tomorrow, otherwise I might just eat s’mores all day long, which, you know, might not be the best idea.
Although … maybe you could tell me how you like your s’mores, and you could help me in this path of self-destruction I’m on. Just don’t tell Noah.