The price of homemade

Here at the Kiefer Cottage, we pride ourselves on making things from scratch.  Store bought pancake mix? Nah.  Cut and bake cookies?  Nope.  It's nice to know the ingredients in our foods.  And often, it's cheaper and more importantly, better tasting.

Marshmallows? Well, until today, I'd just purchased those at the store.  Rarely.  I'm not a huge fan of them.

But last month's issue of Sunset featured tons of recipes for camping.  By the way, I love that magazine. I might not live in the West, but I get tons of info.  Lots of recipes, ideas for the garden, and of course, pure envy of all the natural beauty.

Anywho, one feature included a recipe for homemade s'mores.  As in, you make the marshmallows, you make the graham crackers, you tote them to the campsite and then make the s'mores up fresh.  Since my  mom told me that years ago she made crackers and it took approximately 72 hours and shaved years off  her life, I decided to try the 'mallows instead.  (FYI Mom also made chocolate truffles about a decade ago, toiling for hours.  She stuck 'em in the fridge, moved 'em to New Orleans from Memphis, and last I heard, still had a few left.  Apparently, they're still good.  Right, Mom? Only the lucky ones get to try them. Perhaps I should be grateful I have not been so lucky.)

So in honor of my father and stepmom's trip to Yosemite (oh, I think it's that park. I get them all confused), for which they arrived tonight, I made s'mores.  And drank wine.  I did it without a candy thermometer, and they turned out very well, despite the cussing and the questioning--Is that soft ball? Or ultra-hard ball? Or are they chocolate salty balls? Did I just say balls??  hehehe.  Dammit, the sugar is getting too hot.

You can find the recipe here.

I do not have many photos.  The recipe requires about three dozen things happening at once, and my resident photographer wasn't around, so I've got after-shots.

The finished marshmallows.

Oh, yeah.

We didn't have an open flame to heat them up over, so I melted the chocolate in the microwave and smeared it on the insides of the graham crackers.  

Don't you love the dessert plate--that gal is getting the boob discount, too.

Happy customers enjoyed the dessert.  They did not enjoy the bath afterward.

Nor did we enjoy dealing with the mess afterward, either.

Verdict?  The marshmallows tasted good.  But not good enough to make again anytime soon.  I'm fine with buying them as often as I need them, which is pretty darn infrequently.  Maybe once a year.  

I am thinking about making the graham crackers, however.  Ryan's younger than I am, so it's okay if I lose a few years from it.  Starr, are you drunk? that makes no sense. Why, yes, apparently I was when I wrote that. I meant that *Ryan* could afford to make some for me!  Is that better?