It has become my custom to make candy for Christmas
gifts. You might think it’s a little tiresome to do the same thing year on
year, but it turns out that people now expect this stuff and whenever I give
them something—something perfectly lovely, mind you—that’s not toffee,
fudge, truffles and bark, I’m inevitably met with a crestfallen face and an
almost-sobbed, “No-no candy?”
Well, all these bazillion calories don’t make themselves,
so I’ve been loading up on some of the ingredients.
But that’s not really what I’m writing about today. When
I went to the marshmallow aisle, I discovered something new: marshmallows on
steroids: (In this photo the normal ones, which I use in the fudge, are between
two packets of the “Campfire Giant Roasters”.)
I do not get the need for this, unless it’s just
unbridled American excess—we make ‘em huge because we can. What would you use
to hold one of these bad boys over the campfire—a pitchfork? And what happens
if one falls off your roasting stick into the embers? You’d start a
conflagration that could take out an entire national forest.
And in the end—you can singe the interior of your mouth
just fine on the normal sized ones, and I don’t see supersized graham crackers
and Hershey bars for constructing the mother-of-all-S’Mores.
But obviously my way of thinking is Bad for the Economy, so I merely
express my wonder and haul out the Kitchen Aid to set to work.
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