Too s'many

The numbers were looking good: we looked to be about 20 campers, an encouraging turnout for a class of only nine 7^th graders. The campsites at Bayview State Park—three, since we’re not big enough for a real group site—were reserved, the weatherman said the rain clouds should hold off, so we had a green light. We typically potluck on the second night of the trip, and this year was no exception, so Dear Friend pulled some wild salmon out of her freezer for grilling over the campfire.

Our first night’s meal plan is garbanzo bean curry: the same meal that we OD’ed on earlier in the year is perfect for camping, since it’s comprised almost entirely of canned goods. A container of coleslaw is made at home the night before. I know that The Mistress of Indulgence will bring noodles and sauce, and that Little One will defect to her (it doesn’t hurt that she has perfected oatmeal-raisin cookies and bakes them just for him, fending off hungry 'tweens until he has eaten his fill).

The breakfast menu is of the greasy-spoon type, cooked on my handsome cast iron griddle: pancakes (wheat free, in deference to me and Stand Partner), bacon, eggs, hash browns, oatmeal and cocoa. Sandwich makings, fresh fruit and other odd munchies round out the food for between the good meals.

I rummage around and find an open bag of marshmallows, half a box of graham crackers and not a single Hershey bars—they have somehow mysteriously disappeared. I put that and a few camping-type foods on the shopping list and head for the co-op.

Clearly I wasn’t the only one with the same idea, as the shelf where the graham crackers live is completely, Mother-Hubbard bare. Since we have only a half-hour to spare until we needed to pick up Little One from camp, we devise Plan B: an IGA on the way to North Bend beckons, and we stock up there. Number One Son says, “I’ll get the stuff, so there’s enough for a change. You wait here.” While I wait, I stroll the unfamiliar aisles and pick up a bar of dark truffle chocolate and some dark chocolate Petit Ecolier biscuits, since they seem good candidates for more adult s’mores. Number One finally emerges, laden with two bags of marshmallows, two boxes of graham crackers and 15 Hershey bars. Yes, he hopes that’s enough!

We all arrive late-ish Friday evening, but the horrid traffic isn’t enough to dampen our spirits. The Mistress and her minions get their mega-tent (with hinged door, no less) erected on the third try, and we light a fire before it gets dark. And then it happens: I bring out my bag of s’mores supplies, then The Mistress brings out hers. We laugh, clearly we have brought more than enough for everyone for both nights! From the neighboring site, two other people bring out their own bags. That’s right, upwards of eight bags of marshmallows, a dozen Honey Maid boxes, and an embarrassment of chocolate bars. Clearly, we have our work cut out.

By the second night, enthusiasm for s’mores seems to wane a bit, likely due to our stuffing ourselves with salmon and fresh corn (not to mention Caesar salad, potato & bean salad, beans, coleslaw,…). Undaunted, or perhaps emboldened by hard cider and inspired by my stash of alternative chocolate, Teacher Mom takes over. Kids are instructed how to roast marshmallows properly: the heat source must be at the side, not the end. The Mistress takes over setting up the crackers, and I can’t help but notice she is breaking huge chunks off the extra-thick half-pound bars. Then, Teacher Mom reaches for two crackers, places a chunk of dark truffle chocolate on one, and pulls off a roasted marshmallow so gooey that it’s just barely hanging onto the stick. It oozes, as a s’more should, and requisite oohs and aahs fill the air. Later, as we start a round-robin story, she is unable to pick up the story thread, so absorbed in the perfect s’more is she.

Sprinkles start as we make ready for bed, and we decide to break camp in the morning, after fortifying ourselves at a neighboring diner. The rush to throw things in the cars in the pouring rain means that once home I unpack eight Honey Maid boxes (one from Costco), five bags of marshmallows and several pounds of Hershey bars. Which is why we’ll be making them at least one s’more time this summer.