Moonshine Marshmallows

Christiana George
Moonshine Marshmallows

I was originally inspired by the recipe for Blue Bottle Coffee’s moonshine marshmallows, but after making it multiple times, and failing, I finally had to admit defeat. But that doesn’t mean I can’t use the name, now does it? A moonshine marshmallow certainly sounds much more intriguing than a bourbon marshmallow.

This is my first entry for a giftable holiday treat, and a winning one it is at that. These marshmallows look adorable, feel as soft as, no, wait, softer than pillows, and taste incredibly luscious.

Imagine creamy hot chocolate spiked with bourbon marshmallows… perfect for sipping in front of a wood-burning fireplace. Or for those of us who don’t have wood-burning fireplaces, our radiators. Actually, that’s the last place I want to be when it’s on; our apartment is hot enough as it is.



These also taste great in adult-flavored s’mores. (And if you use a 9-inch square baking pan instead of 8-, they cut into perfect-sized squares for the graham crackers.) To toast them, because again, there’s no wood-burning fireplace in my dinky little apartment, I pop them in the toaster oven where they do that funny expansion thing, bubbling and swelling like they’re about to come alive, and let them slowly turn buttery-brown. By then, the s’mores is a hot mess, melted chocolate and gooey marshmallow everywhere. It’s pretty much perfect.

Homemade marshmallows are pretty much perfect.

There’s no need to stick to bourbon. I imagine Bailey’s would work wonderfully. Or kahlua, or anything besides vodka (which doesn’t taste like anything except alcohol). You don’t even have to use alcohol at all—I imagine the recipe would work just as well with water—but what’s the point? Actually, scratch that. I’m not judging. I’m not the biggest fan of alcohol-tasting desserts. (But this one’s different, I swear!)

If you’re going to make substitutions with the sugar, I would advise against maple syrup. It tends to crystallize, and form razor shards. I cut myself on a piece, and it looks and feels like a paper cut. (They’re the worst!) I was initially uncomfortable with the idea of using corn syrup, but David makes a good case for it, and especially after my incident with the the maple syrup, I decided to just swallow my unease and pour it all in. The entire cupful.

MOONSHINE MARSHMALLOWS

Adapted from Epicurious

Makes 16 2×2-inch marshmallows or 64 1×1-inch marshmallows

Ingredients:

  • 3 (1/4-ounce) envelopes unflavored gelatine
  • 6 Tbsp bourbon, divided
  • 1-1/2 cups sugar
  • 1 cup light corn syrup
  • 1/2 cup + 2 Tbsp water, divided
  • 1/4 cup corn starch
  • 1/4 cup confectioners sugar

Tools:
candy thermometer



Directions:

Line an 8-inch square baking pan with 2 sheets of parchment paper (completely covering all the edges inside the pan). Lightly oil the sides and bottom of the pan.

In a separate bowl, sift together the corn starch and confectioners sugar. Sift enough of this mixture into the prepared pan to completely and generously cover the bottom. Reserve the remaining cornstarch mixture.

Sprinkle gelatin over 3 Tbsp bourbon and 5 Tbsp water in bowl of mixer and let soften while making syrup.

Stir together sugar, corn syrup, a pinch of salt, the remaining 3 Tbsp bourbon, and the remaining 5 Tbsp water in a medium heavy saucepan (I used a 4-quart saucepan and it barely contained the liquid when it boiled up). Boil over medium heat, without stirring, until candy thermometer registers 238 to 240°F. Remove from heat.

With mixer at low speed, pour hot syrup into gelatin mixture in a slow stream down side of bowl. Increase speed to high and beat until very thick and mixture forms a thick ribbon when beater is lifted, 11 to 13 minutes.

With a lightly oiled spatula, scrape marshmallow into baking pan and smooth the top. Let stand, uncovered, at room temperature until surface is no longer sticky, 2 to 3 hours.

Remove from pan and carefully peel away the parchment paper. Dust the top and all the edges with the remaining corn starch mixture. Using a knife or scissors dusted with the corn starch mixture, cut the marshmallow into whatever shape you’d like. Dust all cut edges with the corn starch mixture to prevent sticking.

These should last for about a week or so, if kept in an airtight container at room temperature. If stacking the marshmallows, line between layers with parchment paper.





New Formula To Support Healthy WEIGHT LOSS

BUY NOW

Subscribe for New Racipies

Get mental health tips, updates, and resources delivered to your inbox.

Limeade, Or Vigilance and Other Defensive Measures

Christiana George
Limeade Spread

Would you mind if I talked weather right now? I ask this because a) this is only my second blog post and I don’t want you thinking I’ve already run out of things to say, and b) the weather is pretty much the only thing people have been talking about recently.

Here goes anyway: Wow. The heat here in New York is intense.

Summers in San Francisco are a lesson in delayed gratification. Trust me on this. Because of the city’s location, it becomes a cold magnet in June, July, and August, and the hotter it is elsewhere, the colder the city becomes. But if you’re patient, summer does arrive sure enough. And it’s damn near perfect. September and October are two of the best months to live in the city—when it becomes drenched in a glorious, warm glow that emphasizes its thousands of incredible views. Have you seen the Golden Gate Bridge under such conditions? Amazing. (But then again, it’s the Golden Gate Bridge.) You know the Painted Ladies? They bask under the attention of the sun. And Dolores Park overflows. Yep, life is good.



Which is why, since this is my first June in New York after all, I don’t think I’ll ever forget the onslaught of true heat. It swooped in overnight, along with its partner in crime, Humidity (they’re the Bonnie and Clyde of the meteorological world), and together, wreaked havoc on the stewing masses of us city dwellers. I can tell they’re going to figure largely in my plans this summer—culinary and otherwise.

Anyway, Chris and I have, er, implemented certain safety measures to ensure proper hydration and aeration. Namely, we must always keep the water filter filled to the very top and the bedroom window open. Privately, I’ve decided there must always be limeade. Vigilance!

Limeade is king. Limeade is the antidote to the swelter and to the cloyingly sweet beverages that I normally avoid. And because you can control the amount of sugar that goes in, the tart can truly shine through—if that’s your thing. Chris and I have taken to drinking it alongside hearty burgers; it’s a great counterbalance. And because limes are so inexpensive, you just might want to make it all summer long.

Stay cool.

LIMEADE

Adapted from Simply Recipes

Makes a little over a quart

I like my juice quite tart, but ⅔ cup of sugar is probably the lowest you want to go. Also, I squeezed in the juice from one lemon, which was tasty.



Ingredients:

1 cup of lime juice (from about 6 limes)
grated zest from one lime (about 1 T)
⅔ to 1 cup sugar
3 cups water

Directions

In a small saucepan, bring to a boil 1 cup of water, the lime zest, and the sugar. Remove from heat and let cool for a few minutes.

Place a strainer over a large bowl and pour the sugar syrup into the bowl, straining out the zest. Add the lime juice and 2 cups of water. You can squeeze in more lime juice if it’s too sweet, or add more water if it’s too sour. Cool it in the fridge, or serve it over ice and enjoy!



New Formula To Support Healthy WEIGHT LOSS

BUY NOW

Subscribe for New Racipies

Get mental health tips, updates, and resources delivered to your inbox.