Today I found we had 1/2 a package of marshmallows left over from last week’s s’more adventure, so I mentioned to my wife’s father (who wasn’t there last week) that we should toast them after dinner.
He mentioned to me that he had never had a toasted marshmallow, so that would be interesting. NEVER HAD A TOASTED MARSHMALLOW!! The man was born in 1950, he has been through a lot of the big events of the world, but he had not had a toasted marshmallow. The injustice of this is almost incomprehensible. I guess it’s what happens when you grow up in Sweden, but still, it is crazy that something so simple that is tied to so many fond childhood memories for me could not be universally shared.
So, after dinner, we went to the grill with the two 8-year-olds who also joined us for dinner (his wife’s grandchildren), and we stood around the grill roasting marshmallows. He did his perfectly, and brought two others back to his wife and her daughter.
The 8-year-olds stayed with me learning how to toast marshmallows and enjoying multiple different variations (ie, eating a lot), and then a few neighborhood kids came by and asked what we were doing. I told them we were roasting marshmallows and asked if they wanted to try, and they timidly gave it a shot. They too seemed to get a hang of it after a few tries 😉
It is so fun and cool to me that I was able to share such a simple American right of passage tonight. I am sure to them it was strange, but the adults said it was “typical American” (either because they have seen it in movies or because of the excessive sugar). Regardless, it was a cool thing that really made the perfect Swedish summer day even more perfect.