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Food fight: Here's the correct way to roast a marshmallow

 
iStockphoto.com
iStockphoto.com
Published March 2, 2015

In this series we acknowledge there's just something about certain foods or ways of preparing dishes that people can be simply insufferable about. There is no debate; this is how it should be done. We're going to put ourselves out there and declare how certain things should be done — and release the hounds of debate. Feel free to tell our writers how woefully misinformed they are.

The proper way

When I was describing this new series at dinner recently my 12-year-old reminded me I can be downright obnoxious about roasting marshmallows. And he's right. But that's because he does it all wrong.

These recent cold Florida nights have allowed us to use our fireplace, and of course that means dessert is make-your-own roasted yumminess.

But when my little numbskull sticks his roasting stick directly into the flames, turning it over and over, it doesn't take long for the marshmallow to catch on fire. Which he likes.

I won't begrudge a little burnt sugar, but by roasting it too quickly, it doesn't get all melty and gooey inside. The middle is hardly even hot enough to melt the chocolate on a s'more properly.

What you want when you are done roasting a marshmallow is a golden-brown orb, with maybe a few burnt edges for flavor. And when it's roasted slowly and carefully, the cube puffs up beautifully, like a souffle on a stick.

To do that you have keep your roasting stick to the side of the flames or close to some glowing hot coals. If you want to get scientific about it, you are using radiant energy like an oven, not the convective heat of the flames.

This takes patience, but you are rewarded handsomely with a 'mallow that is crispy on the outside and gooey on the inside and that easily melts a square of chocolate nestled between two graham crackers.

The downside of being so churlish about this topic is my kids sometimes hand their sticks over to me, begging me to make it perfect for them.

That's the cost of being so right.

Sharon Kennedy Wynne can be scolded at swynne@tampabay.com or yelled at on Twitter at @SharonKWn. Tag your tweets #tampabayeats so we can follow along on the smackdown.

Reactions to peanut butter and jelly sandwiches

We knew this series would generate comments. After we kicked it off Feb. 18 with Sharon Kennedy Wynne's personal declaration that her Aunt Edna was making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich the wrong way — by putting both peanut butter and jelly on one piece of bread then topping it with another piece — readers weighed in:

Emails

Don't mix the jars

The most important step for me is to put the jelly on first. That way, the knife doesn't get peanut butter in your jelly jar. A little jelly in peanut butter does no harm, but peanut butter in your jelly jar ruins it.

Also, sliced on the diagonal, each half of your sandwich has either all the top of the crust, or all the bottom of the crust. If you slice it vertically, you can choose on each half which part of the crust to eat first and last.

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Now, if they would only ask me about world peace ...

Kathy Leesman, Sun City Center

A childhood lament

I always applied jelly/preserves like Sharon, and my husband (79) is in Aunt Edna's court. He was one of five boys and always lamented the fact that "other" kids at school had sandwiches cut on the diagonal (his were always roughly rectangular) and theirs were nicely wrapped (pharmacy style with the folds) while his were slapped in waxed paper and put in a bag with plain cookies while his buddies had moist Hostess treats. He states, however, that PB&J should NEVER be cut on the diagonal. I agree. Too messy!

Pat Vassar, Clearwater

The role of grape jelly/jam

You are spot on about making a PB&J. My only addition would be to say that grape jelly/jam is part of the tradition. I would have argued harder that grape is the only true PB&J flavor but I've recently discovered that blueberry preserves are an awesome option. And my husband — who has really peculiar tastes — prefers orange marmalade.

As for triangles — the ONLY way to eat PB&J. I cut them diagonally twice and get 4 little triangles — less crust per part.

Kathleen East, Spring Hill

Peanut butter and ... butter?

I just can't let this one go by. My mom always used it and so do I. Butter! PB&J alone is flat! So, I put peanut butter on one slice, jelly on the other, then spread room-temperature butter on the peanut butter. Perfect! My husband thinks I'm nuts; now I wonder how many others might think so.

Barbara Broadbent, Pinellas Park

Comments on tampabay.com

Fiddlers Green: Mixing the peanut butter and the jelly in a bowl into one gooey mass and then spreading it on the bread works too.

On Twitter

@bevolk Perfect way? Hold the jelly, use extra crunchy peanut butter.

@RoadEats Oh, yeah. Extra-crunchy, honey and bananas. On toast.