Campfire Confessions (Or the lonely girl who hated s’mores)

I absolutely hate marshmallows. I don’t like the taste of them. I don’t like the smell of them. And I really hate brushing the boys’ teeth after they have eaten them. I have sat around close to 30 campfires this summer and haven’t had a single s’more.

So what is my evening snack of choice? At home it is popcorn. And certainly not the kind you get out of the microwave. In fact I don’t even have a popcorn maker. I do it on the stove–in a pot– and it comes out perfect every time.

So my husband really was right on key when he bought me a popcorn popper (made by Jacob Bromwell) for the campfire. Is it easier to make it in the camper? Yes. Is that the point? Of course not.

Popping corn in this contraption actually turned out to be a lot like roasting a marshmallow. It is hard to find the perfect spot in the fire (not too hot, not too cool) to end up with a perfectly toasted treat. Sometimes they go up in flames. Sometimes they are cold in the center.

My first batch was hopelessly burned. I had held it too far away from the flames, so the kernels that popped earliest were toast by the time I was done. The second batch was a bit better. I think you have to find a super hot part of the fire and shake the daylights out of the popper so the kernels pop fast. At least that is my working theory for now.

Even though I haven’t yet popped the perfect batch, the kids gobbled up what I made, and I liked it a whole lot better than a marshmallow. Teeth brushing was still a @$#%*, though.

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