S’mores. Huh? What? I was too confused. Not wanting to look a fool in front of my new American friends, I hurriedly tried to fathom what the dickens this meant. On consulting the Oxford Dictionary (classically British, I know) I found no definition for “s’mores,” merely “mores,” cited as “the essential or characteristic customs and conventions of a community.” This sort of made sense.
After being informed that s’mores were delicious camping delicacies normally consisting of marshmallows, graham crackers, and Hershey’s chocolate, I could see the similarities. After all, they seem pretty essential to any future camping trip—and furthermore, it appears they’re a classic convention vital to the American camping community.
The date of the creation of the first s’more is unknown, though it was listed in the 1927 Girl Scout handbook, called Tramping and Trailing with the Girl Scouts. So the snack has been around for a while. America even has a national s’more day (Aug. 10). The name s’more, I learned, is a portmanteau of “some more.” Very Oliver Twist-esque. I’m befuddled, as an English girl, that it has escaped my notice.
The ingredients consist of everything I adore. It’s a crunchy, chewy, melted-chocolate entity roasted on an open fire. There’s even the option of a “Hershey’s s’more” which needs no cooking but can be easily chomped at any snack-friendly opportunity. Pop Tarts have also made a “s’more” variety. After tasting this sweet honey nectar of American confectionary, I am rather glad it never made it across the pond. Reese’s Cups are sold in many stores in the U.K., and it’s becoming a problem for peanut butter lovers like myself. What started as something that could only be sampled in the Unites States is now a daily part of my diet. This is no joke. Those two cups of chocolate and peanut butter goodness have become as essential as bread and water to me.
Unfortunately, the Unites States caters to my weakness with a superb array of Reese’s in pretty much every store. My diet is as varied as nutritionists recommend. On Monday, I have Reese’s Pieces; on Tuesday, the Reese’s Big Cup; and so on.
The discovery of s’mores bodes very badly; I’ve been eagerly accepting camping invitations willy-nilly. The worst thing is, if I can’t make the trips, I’ve always got my old friend in the peanut butter cups. Hershey’s is stealing my money—and probably my waistline—without mercy.
Intern Clementine Gray wrote this week’s Bites. Send us a Bite to firstname.lastname@example.org.