C IS FOR 'SMORES

Today is ChefGrace's Food Friday Day. Alphabetically speaking, we are up to "C is for Cheese" day. Thus far, I have not contributed to Food Friday because I’m both a slacker and a recipe-hoarder. For me, C is for hash and rehash as posted on HamsterTime this summer. C is for the wonderful memories of camping. Socks not included.



August, 2003

We spent four days traveling through Northern Michigan and camping under the stars. Keep in mind that we camp-camp. We do not roll a motorized camping vehicle into a forest and set up enough Tiki-Lights to illuminate the great Northern Wilderness. Oh no, not us. We are camping purists. Tent. Sleeping Bags. Cook in the fire. Our big luxury item was an air mattress inflator.



Now, camping means ‘smores. ‘Smores means one very happy TinyTuna, because who can go wrong with chocolate and marshmallows? Notice I did not mention graham crackers. TinyTuna would just assume leave them out of the equation, thank you very much. Every night we roasted marshmallows on an open fire. Much like the three bears, we each prefer them to a different degree of done-ness. I like the incinerated carbon-dated variety, GramTuna likes hers in between, and Tiny Tuna has a phobia of burned things, so her marshmallows are barely warmed.



Campfire shui dictated I had the best view of both the mallows and the fire, so it was my job to alert others as to their impending flaming demise. When a marshmallow caught fire, I yelled "FIRE IN THE HOLE!" and they were quickly rescued. TinyTuna (always the helpful copycat) decided to join the marshmallow alert squad. However, at the next marshmallow immolation, she yelled "FIRE THE HO!" After several minutes of hysterics (and TinyTuna asking "what's so funny??"), we wiped the tears from our eyes and started roasting another batch.

Sign My Guestbook!