Busting Nutrition Misinformation - Yes, you may have s’more!

A beloved s'more.

A delicious s’more.

The s’more has a long and glorious history.

It was first mentioned in Girl Scout literature back in 1925. That’s almost 100 years ago, folks!

A s’more, the simplest of confections, is made of a fire-roasted marshmallow and a layer of chocolate sandwiched between two graham crackers. There you have it. Our family has been making and eating s’mores for as long as I’ve been alive.

Remember when you were a kid? There is nothing quite as exciting as searching a campsite for the perfect stick, cleaning said stick, sticking a marshmallow on the end of said stick, sticking the stick holding the marshmallow into a campfire, roasting the marshmallow until it is nice and toasty and then smooshing the hot marshmallow between two graham crackers upon which awaits a thin section of milk chocolate.

If you did it just right the chocolate melted and wow, you had the perfect gooey dessert. I want s’more, please! (The truth is, s’mores are so sweet I’ve never actually met anyone who could eat more than two.)

It’s a multi-generational thing. After a summer barbecue, my parents love to make s’mores as the grand finale. My kids love s’mores, but only on camping trips.

Outside of the right setting, s’mores hold less appeal.

You see, that’s the thing. It’s not as if we’re all eating s’mores every single day or for every single meal. S’mores are usually reserved for camping trips, campfires, summer camp and cookouts/barbecues.

I spent two summers as a counselor at a summer camp for diabetic kids and even those kids got to eat s’mores. We just made sure we had the insulin to cover the sugar rush. Nobody ever passed out. Nobody complained. On the contrary, the kids were in s’more heaven.

I’m asking a serious question here. Why mess with a good thing?

To honor National Roasted Marshmallow Day, the Forest Service suggested we replace the chocolate with fruit or peanut butter. See here:

The USDA Blog.

Huh?

(Look, if it’s the sugar they’re worried about, get rid of the marshmallows, which are made pretty much entirely of sugar.)

Uh… no. To eliminate the chocolate from a s’more makes the confection not a s’more. And besides… ewwwwww. (Generally speaking I hate marshmallows. A s’more is the only time I’ll eat one.)

There is a prevailing myth about sugar. Any Amount of Sugar = Bad Things.

And yes, indeed, too much sweet stuff does equal bad things. But I’m not advocating too much sweet stuff.

Table sugar contains linked fructose and glucose. Honey contains un-linked fructose and glucose. Corn syrup contains maltose, but high fructose corn syrup is high in, surprise, fructose. Fruit is a bag of watery fructose with fiber and micro nutrients.

Look, I’m not a huge fan of sweets, aside from chocolate. I don’t think loads of sugar and processed carbs are good for us. Period. However, although I know many many many people will disagree, I don’t see all that much difference in the way our bodies metabolize all of the sugars mentioned above. I, personally, avoid products containing high fructose corn syrup because I believe concentrated fructose can be problematic. I don’t think sugar (including fruit) is dangerous, provided you are not diabetic, and it is eaten in moderation as part of a balanced diet.

I definitely don’t see a need to change s’mores. A s’more is perfect as is. (And this is coming from a woman who detests marshmallows under all other circumstances.)

Instead of a recipe, a tribute to Bushwacker, the Farewell Tour of a Champion Bull.

Bushwacker, the greatest bull of all time, is retiring this year.

Bushwacker doing his thing.

Bushwacker doing his thing.

I do love bulls. They’re so dang big. Rhino big. Dinosaur big. Powerful big. Sometimes a bull might give you the stank eye, and then you have to watch yourself. But some, like my daughter’s bull, Bully, are very nice.

Enjoy these videos - consider them the best of Bushwacker. He’s an amazing bull. Oh, and I’ve added my favorite new commercial! Julia

My new favorite ‘found’ item!

I found this in a throw-away bin- one of the bins where we could toss our earthquake trash.

Look!

My two favorite cooks!

Look closer!

Can you believe it???

Can you believe it???

That’s what I saw when I opened the book the next day. I was so excited. I loved Julia Child. I always wanted her autograph but I never had the opportunity. Wow. Just… just wow!

Will I ever make one of the recipes? Who knows? Who cares? It’s enough to merely hold the book in my hot little hands. :)

A Much Needed Day at the Beach…

that never quite happened.

After the earthquake cleanup, the continuous aftershocks, the sleepless nights, Jake and I craved an inspiring spirit-reviving energizing day at the beach.

We did. We truly did. We needed it.

So we packed up and headed off. But it was one of those everything goes wrong days.

(Well, the traffic was lighter than usual and that was nice.)

When we arrived and hiked in from the car things felt off. The weather was weird, neither cloudy nor foggy nor sunny. The sea and the sky were sort of colorless. They looked much the same.

The air wasn’t hot but it wasn’t cold. It wasn’t crisp. It didn’t contain that damp, fecund, invigorating, briny ocean smell. It was sort of… rotten. Smelled like rotting flesh. Not fish, flesh.

I looked down at my feet. I usually wear hiking boots but I’d decided to wear flip flops this time around. I’d planned on wading in the ocean. Of all the days. From one end of the beach to the other, the sand was blanketed with these:

Blue Jellies, actually Velella velella.

They aren’t deadly poisonous but they do have stingers and I didn’t want to get stung and I certainly didn’t want Jake stung. To make matters worse, a couple of guys were fishing with bait that was so putrid it attracted every yellow jacket in the county. For the first time in my experience, between the dying Velella velella and the putrid bait (mostly the bait), the beach swarmed with yellow jackets. And I’d left my epipen at home.

It sucked. Just sucked. Jake and I hung out up high for a little while then headed home. I think I’ll wait a few weeks before I return. Maybe a storm surge will come in and cleanse the sand. And get rid of the people.

Jake says, “This sucks.”

Daughters of Persephone, Book Three, Reborn.

Do you believe in reincarnation or the transmigration of souls?

I do.

Read about it- for free! This one’s my favorite. It’s dark, deep, and angsty.

DOP_Reborn_200

A thousand years have passed since the Empress Aja Bokinan and her consort Kyr Aram settled on Calen. As the legend foretold, a great evil has arisen. Black Frocks scour the planets, searching out women, children and even men with a trace of the Royal Blood, sacrificing them to their dark god.

When they see her mahogany hair and gray eyes, Issa Bokinan’s family flees the village for the safety of the mountains, but even that is not far enough. It is up to The Red Demon, Tem, to hide the young Empress away in the past, teaching her to use her powers, grooming her for the day when she will face the Black Frocks and her own death.

But the Red Demon has a plan within a plan. She’s meddled in the gene pool, producing a man with powers Women of the Blood only dream of. She wants Kane Tirol for her own, but Kane, a Calen man, wants nothing to do with the Red Demon. He is bonded to Issa Bokinan, and not even time can keep them apart.

Upload your copy right here - Daughters of Persephone, Reborn.