“Marshmallows… the ones you dangle over a bonfire until they turn from white, to caramel, to crunchy black… and under that charred exterior is gooey goodness”
The only food, ONLY food that brings me back to a happy memory is this…
My grandmother couldn’t do bonfires outside, she hurt a lot and they were in upstate WI, very wooded area, lots of ticks and mosquitos, etc… So she improvised.
In their cozy lake house, where I have so many fond memories even all these years later, they had a gas stove. She would get a bag of big marshmallows and I guess whatever you call them… prongs or something? Stick a marshmallow on each end and help me carefully roast them over the stovetop burner.
It became a ritual for us. Until she was gone.
I didn’t do it again until a few years ago in my own home here. I have the luxury of a gas stove. I bought some marshmallows, and held them over that blue flame as they sizzled. I was back in that lake house all over again. Not only did I burn my tongue but I haven’t made anymore since. Maybe it hurts too much.
Paradiso 