GIMME S’MORE
I had donned my new fuzzy socks, had brushed my teeth like a good gal and climbed under my quilt with my “Memoirs of Cleopatra” book when a knock sounded on the door. C’s head poked inside and she stated, “Even for you S, this is a new record. In bed by 7:30 PM!!” I pointed out that since I was reading and not sleeping she could not accuse me of one of the seven (or was it eight?) sins.(Sloth, in case anyone is wondering). She would have none of it and enticed me out of my warm lair, with promises of making some s’mores.
A s'more, according to Wickepedia, is a traditional campfire treat popular in the US and Canada, consisting of a roasted marshmallow and a slab of chocolate sandwiched between two pieces of a graham cracker. (a thin square biscuit).
A marshmallow is skewered on the end of a long stick and held just above the campfire until its outer surface starts to brown, char, or even catch fire. Once heated, the marshmallow's inside becomes soft. The marshmallow is quickly pinched off its stick with the waiting graham crackers. Ideally, the heat from the roasted marshmallow partially melts the chocolate into a gooey mess.
We live in an apartment complex, and a campfire was out of question. Per D, we had two options, either he could fire up the barbeque unit on the balcony or we could use candles. Neither of us wanted to brave the freezing cold out on the balcony so we decided to go along with the candle idea. Next, we needed long sticks. We searched high and low and found nothing to suit our purpose. D again came to the rescue. He found us wooden kabab skewers. How the man can remember where every single thing is placed is quite beyond me. He then went back to his online classes.
We assembled all the paraphernalia we would need. We had also found some tea lights (tiny flat candles in aluminum holders, rather like Diwali lamps). This we placed on a plate after lighting them, since we were sure D would get upset if we got any wax over his dinner table.
We skewered our marshmallows on the wooden skewers and held it over the flames. To our surprise, D came out of his room, pulled out a chair and sat down between us. He had decided that he could not quite trust the two of us not to burn down his house.
He gave me strict instructions that I was to blow out the flame if my marshmallow caught fire. And as usual, I bungled it. The minute my marshmallow got too close to the flame, D would yell, “you are on fire” and it made me so tense that I would wave my stick around, feeding the flame, instead of blowing it out. When C did the same thing, I guess D had had enough.
He marched into the closet and returned with a dusty old fire extinguisher. At our incredulous expressions, he informed us that he was not taking any chances with two pyromaniacs loose in his home. And the said fire extinguisher had lost its safety ring, so technically it was ready to go. I just prayed that D did not have super quick reflexes or one of us was sure to get sprayed.
In spite of D glaring at us, and trying to pretend like he was exasperated, we managed to make two s’mores each and enjoyed the gooey mess, giggling all the while. D of course was busy eating all the leftover pieces of chocolate. We licked our fingers clean and made our way to the bathroom, where, as C so eloquently put it, we performed, “BRUSHING TEETH, TAKE TWO.”
A s'more, according to Wickepedia, is a traditional campfire treat popular in the US and Canada, consisting of a roasted marshmallow and a slab of chocolate sandwiched between two pieces of a graham cracker. (a thin square biscuit).
A marshmallow is skewered on the end of a long stick and held just above the campfire until its outer surface starts to brown, char, or even catch fire. Once heated, the marshmallow's inside becomes soft. The marshmallow is quickly pinched off its stick with the waiting graham crackers. Ideally, the heat from the roasted marshmallow partially melts the chocolate into a gooey mess.
We live in an apartment complex, and a campfire was out of question. Per D, we had two options, either he could fire up the barbeque unit on the balcony or we could use candles. Neither of us wanted to brave the freezing cold out on the balcony so we decided to go along with the candle idea. Next, we needed long sticks. We searched high and low and found nothing to suit our purpose. D again came to the rescue. He found us wooden kabab skewers. How the man can remember where every single thing is placed is quite beyond me. He then went back to his online classes.
We assembled all the paraphernalia we would need. We had also found some tea lights (tiny flat candles in aluminum holders, rather like Diwali lamps). This we placed on a plate after lighting them, since we were sure D would get upset if we got any wax over his dinner table.
We skewered our marshmallows on the wooden skewers and held it over the flames. To our surprise, D came out of his room, pulled out a chair and sat down between us. He had decided that he could not quite trust the two of us not to burn down his house.
He gave me strict instructions that I was to blow out the flame if my marshmallow caught fire. And as usual, I bungled it. The minute my marshmallow got too close to the flame, D would yell, “you are on fire” and it made me so tense that I would wave my stick around, feeding the flame, instead of blowing it out. When C did the same thing, I guess D had had enough.
He marched into the closet and returned with a dusty old fire extinguisher. At our incredulous expressions, he informed us that he was not taking any chances with two pyromaniacs loose in his home. And the said fire extinguisher had lost its safety ring, so technically it was ready to go. I just prayed that D did not have super quick reflexes or one of us was sure to get sprayed.
In spite of D glaring at us, and trying to pretend like he was exasperated, we managed to make two s’mores each and enjoyed the gooey mess, giggling all the while. D of course was busy eating all the leftover pieces of chocolate. We licked our fingers clean and made our way to the bathroom, where, as C so eloquently put it, we performed, “BRUSHING TEETH, TAKE TWO.”
posted by newatthis at 2:41 PM
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