You’re missing out! When I introduced them to my English friends, I was a god to them!
At my work they sell campfire sticks with suggestions of different smores. There’s one where you use a York Peppermint patty in place of a piece of chocolate or a Resee’s Peanut Butter Cup instead of the chocolate. The other one that intrigued me was what they called a “Hawaiian Smore”- Graham cracker, white chocolate, toasted marshmallow, and pineapple ring.
I dunno, it seems to me that if you wanted to make a “Hawaiian S’more”, coconut would be a better choice than pineapple. Pineapple just doesn’t seem like it would play well with the other ingredients.
Ya, know the truth is, I kinda love and hate s’mores. I don’t much care for the marshmallow in the mix, I like the chocolate, I like the graham crackers, but the marshmallow sends it over the sickly sweet, literally sticky sweet, and cloying edge. I hate the recent homeytrend to whore out the s’more in the culinary and dessert world… even worse than the tiramisu trend of the late '80’s 90’s.
I hope I will, or somebody else comes up with a s;more without the marshmallow in some culinary fashion. I’m not sure what could substitute? Maybe meat or Mochi?
Having been a camp counselor, we use to cheat the campers out of their hershey bar ration ( one bar per kid became half a bar per kid) and after the kids went to sleep, we’d scarf down our comstock lode of chocolate and stare off at the stars in our sugar induced state.
I never really cared for the marshmellow part. Too sticky. (Camp was pretty much all sand. I hate sand, to this day.)
Ditto.
I hate marshmallows.
I can trace this back to that summer we had a party where all the relatives came and some aunt had brought one of those one gallon buckets of rocky road ice cream. By the time dinner was over, this bucket, was barely touched melt and was returned to the freezer. Over the convening six months, our parents had tried to get us to eat it but we refused. They went went as far as to refuse buying any new ice cream until it was eaten. In the end, they frozen venison my uncle brought forced my parents to chuck it out, they didn’t even bother to try to recycle the plastic container.