Marshmallow

I kept hearing stories describing heavenly fluff in the form of homemade marshmallow, and I was hoping to successfully prepare the gooey treat for my family. Not being a fan of marshmallow means I don’t make s’mores voluntarily, and if I find myself immersed in a summertime s’more adventure I eat the chocolate and graham crackers by themselves; but I was prepared to tackle the challenge. With a recipe in hand along with John’s ever present wit, I proceeded…

Homemade marshmallows are surprisingly simple, but it is important that your kitchen be kept free of stray papers, plastic bags, and anything else that might fall prey to the “Creature From The Mixing Bowl.” And if you are inclined to want to remove every precious bit from inside the bowl, be forewarned… “It ain’t happening!”

After boiling the sugar mixture to the correct temperature, I slowly poured the molten syrup into the mixing bowl where the gelatin awaited. The mixer gently combined the ingredients whereupon I boldly shifted the lever to its fastest setting and waited the designated ten minutes while it whipped the sugary concoction–“magically” transforming it from a hot liquid to a mountain of shiny white fluff. That’s when the fun really began…

The instant I removed the whisk and attempted to wipe it clean, the elastic, sticky marshmallow stretched and adhered to anything and everything that was in the vicinity. It stuck to the whisk, it stuck to the bowl, and it stuck to my fingers. It was only after considerable grappling, I finally managed to wrestle it from the bowl to the baking dish where it could “dry”–but not before the white marshmallow spread across my hands.  Sighing under my breath I made my way toward the sink to wash away the mess, when a plastic grocery bag suddenly attached itself to my hand, and hard as I tried to remove it I could only transfer it from my hand, to the bag, back to my hand… exasperated over my dilemma, I stood near the sink pondering how to turn the water on without spreading more of the sticky marshmallow everywhere.

Much like a creature from an old horror movie, the marshmallow was seemingly compelled to invade every area of my kitchen. It was ultimately tamed as I “willed” it into a rectangular baking dish to dry overnight–where it finally became quite compliant. No longer the tentacled monster trying to make its way out of my mixing bowl, it was a pleasant sweet confection ready for s’mores. The jury is still out as to whether they are better than store bought, and John’s review was considerably less than enthusiastic, “Meh, they’re marshmallows…”  Next time I’ll probably just buy them, and if I ever feel adventurous again someday I might experiment with flavorings… or not.