Homemade Chocolate Chipotle Marshmallows

When you’re constantly thinking about a week’s worth of dinners and planning for life, it’s too easy to forget about the fun stuff. I know, because I did for a long time. When I was making sure that a big batch of oatmeal was portioned out, vegetables were cut and roasted, soups were simmered and lunches were considered, the last thing I had time for was cooking, just because. I understood the why, but it started to get to me. Isn’t cooking supposed to be fun?

Take marshmallows. I have long harbored a dream of owning a marshmallow business, but there were so many logistics that I could never wrap my head around: renting a commercial kitchen, the best way to package them and shelf life, for starters. So, I just made a batch whenever a new flavor popped into my head, giving them out to family and bringing them to parties.

But, I had Easton and I stopped. I wasn’t starting a business and I wasn’t cooking for fun. If I’m being honest, I wasn’t doing much of anything for fun. I could not justify making marshmallows, just because it struck my fancy.

Recently — probably thanks to my desire to teach Easton everything that can happen in the kitchen — I’ve given fun cooking a go, again. Sure, most of the time it’s roasting vegetables and mixing salads. But there has to be more. So, we made pasta. We made cookies. We’ve tried to have her watch as we navigate our Instant Pot and the perfect amount of time to cook an egg. I made popovers just so she could see the whole thing happen in the blender. I made waffles twice in one week in December, because it was winter break, she asked and I wanted her to understand that all recipes taste different.

And, then, I thought: she should know that you can make marshmallows. (Seriously important, life skills, obviously.)

A small part of my last job was to teach kids where things come from (example: bacon comes from a pig, not the grocery store). It’s important for them to understand how food comes to be, even if it’s a hard lesson. Luckily, marshmallow teaching isn’t as dramatic as bacon, but can still be confusing. Unbeknownst to me, Larry had bought a bag of mini marshmallows the day before and when I told Easton we were going to make marshmallows, she ran to the pantry, grabbed the bag and then said, Now what?

As I tried to explain that we were making them, and that I didn’t even know why we had a bag of marshmallows in the house, I pulled out the gelatin, the sugar, the agave and the candy thermometer. I reached for the small 2 quart saucepot that I always refer to as my marshmallow pot, and grabbed the whisk attachment for the mixer. I was surprised to realize how much muscle memory I had for making marshmallows, after all this time.

One cup of water, divided between the sauce pot and the mixer bowl; gelatin in one, sugar, agave and salt in the other. Stir, boil, into the bowl, whip, whip, whip. The whole time, Easton asking, is that the marshmallow? Why are we making marshmallows? And, I didn’t have a real answer for her. Because, it’s fun? Are you having fun, I asked? OK, she said. We poured the whipped marshmallows into the pan.

Now what?
Now we wait a couple hours for them to firm up.
That’s a really long time. Mommy? 
Yes?
Daddy bought marshmallows yesterday at the store. 

But, it is fun.

I spent years fearing the candy thermometer, only to find out that if you just, um, watch it and turn off the heat when it reaches the right number, it’s will be OK. It is amazing, if you think about it, to pour molten sugar syrup into a mixer with a little water and gelatin, and watch it whip from something clear and cloudy, to opaque, thick and creamy, in the span of 10 minutes. It’s pretty amazing that it takes only a couple hours for it to firm up into this sticky, sticky mass, that becomes instantly not sticky when dusted with cornstarch or confectioners’ sugar. It is fun to hand someone a homemade marshmallow and say, I made this for you. It’s the best to change someone’s opinion about marshmallows, just by making them one from scratch.

The truth is, that while I love homemade marshmallows, I’m often in it for the making and creating, and not as much for the eating. I forgot that marshmallows tend to live a long life in this house and that they are best made with an occasion or gift, in mind. We all like them, but marshmallows are a treat and not something that you toss into cereal, or on top of yogurt, or a bowl of grapes (maybe we should rethink all of this though). So, why did we make them? I don’t know. Does there always have to be an end game?

But don’t be like us: Make them! Cut them into whatever shape your heart desires! Dip them in chocolate! (Or don’t!) Then eat them!

Have fun! (Not a threat.)