As a kid, my favorite time to have s’mores was in the winter.
Spoken like a true blizzard-hardened, Midwestern kid, right? Sure, I had them in the summer time but I swear they taste better in the winter. Here’s how I know.
My extended family owns a cabin in northern Wisconsin. It goes by many names: the lodge, Rustic Haven, heaven on earth, or even “da yodge” (somewhere along the way, one of my younger cousins called it that and it stuck).
Back in the day when my cousins and I were all just a bunch of lil’ smacks, the whole fam-damily would go up after Christmas day and stay through New Years. It was a wonderful time filled with many memories.
Anyways, back to s’mores.
During those trips over New Years, the whole family would go on a sleigh ride through the woods. We’d load up on a large sleigh pulled by draft horses (those poor things!) and disrupt the solitude of the snow covered forest with the von Snyder family of “off-key” singers.
When we reached the half way part of the ride, we’d off load next to a campfire where the proprietors had s’more supplies all ready to go.
|Here’s an example of when to keep blending the hot milk and cream cheese–still too lumpy!|
That’s when the race started.
Imagine a bunch of kids running around to find the perfect stick in the snow…then back to the adults for a marshmallow…then over to the fire to get a prime roasting spot.
Then you played “dodge the sharp sticks with flaming sugar” as you weaved your way to an adult with a waiting graham cracker and chocolate square.
*Kid tip: always, ALWAYS find a dad, uncle, or grandpa. They gave you half a chocolate bar (which covers a graham cracker much better by the way!). Moms, aunts, and grandmas only gave you a 1/4 of a bar. Maybe they were more wary of what happens to a gaggle of kids hopped up on Hershey’s. If you went to a mom, aunt, or grandma, you’d made a rookie mistake that you didn’t repeat on the next s’more.*
If you got thirsty after all the gooey sugar and chocolate, you ate some snow.
If the remnants of three s’mores were stuck to your face, you used your mitten–which was always secured with strings through your coat. We don’t play. No losing “napkins” on the sleigh ride. If you did, you were screwed for sledding trips later.
We haven’t done a sleigh ride in years but looking back on those memories makes me smile in a lot of ways.
Needless to say s’mores in winter hold a special place in my heart.
What’s so fabulous about my tribute to the s’more is the texture and taste of the ice cream. Notice in the ingredients there are no marshmallows…
That’s because when I was playing around with variations of ice cream recipes, I tried out the combination below and it tasted straight up like a marshmallow to me.
Don’t be fooled, it looks like a regular vanilla but the taste and creaminess are spot on to a jet-puffed marshmallow.
So here’s my go at a frozen version of a s’more…almost as good as one right off the sleigh in wintertime.