Our own Sarah Mirk saw the following product in Safeway, and was aghast. Like someone had packaged and marketed her childhood (though I’m pretty sure her childhood wasn’t that interesting to begin with). Anyway! How does this product make you feel? And more importantly, WILL YOU CONDEMN OR ALLOW IT?

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Bang bang, choo-choo train, let me see you shake that thang. Wm. Steven Humphrey is the editor-in-chief of the Portland Mercury and has held the job since 2000. (So don’t get any funny ideas.)

23 replies on “Insta-S’mores: CONDEMN OR ALLOW?”

  1. I don’t see how this is a violation of childhood nostalgia in any way. In fact, I believe this will lead to more smores being consumed, which is ALWAYS a good thing. Otherwise fumble-fingered idiot kids will fuck up their smores, or some fat kid will get all sneaky while nobody’s looking and eat all the chocolate or marshmallows, leaving the rest of the kids stuck wolfing down plain graham crackers that taste of bitterness and the unfairness of a fast oncoming adulthood.

  2. But plain graham crackers are still delicious.

    Condemned because the name of the product reminds you that s’mores are going to make you fat. Who thought that was a good idea?

  3. I condemn this because it specifically says, “NO CAMPING REQUIRED!”

    Camping is 100% allowed for s’mores! You can’t just gorge on them in your kitchen. There’s gotta be a grueling hike involved to make the marshmallows taste so sweet.

  4. Plus, who wants a perfect s’more? Isn’t the gooey, messy, awful imperfection that comes with trying to make a campfire confection part of the allure?

  6. “the gooey messy, awful imperfection” is what clumsy fuckers tell themselves to feel better about failing to make a smore that isn’t a drippy, annoying mess of sugar and bread.

    I submit, no matter how much your rose-colored, fart-huffing booger-eating childhood may protest, that smores ultimate form is Smores ice-cream. No form of smore is more enjoyable.

    If you’re the kind of person who wants to trek for 5 miles uphill amidst growly, bitey things, you’re not the kind of person putting pureed horse-hooves and hershey’s bricks in your face anyway.

  10. Q: How often have I thought to myself “this non-camping activity is enjoyable, but it would be more enjoyable with smores”?

    A: OFTEN.

  11. This is a fun coincidence, since I’ve just come out with my KFC Double Down-inspired new product, S’MORE THAN YOU CAN FUCKING HANDLE: Get rid of those stupid graham crackers, and fill your face with half a bag of marshmellows melted between two oversized Hershey bars.

  13. I only eat S’Mores if they’re from locally sourced ogranic chocolates.

    Also, how do you flip this monstrosity to ensure properly even toasting? I like the idea, they just need to take it to the next level.

  20. Allow.

    Also, I’m going to call “bullshit” on s.mirk’s pro-camping agenda.

    I love me some s’mores, but hate me some heartwarming, family-style camping in which “drinking so much that even having a fire is a very real threat to your life” is traded for melted marshmallows, chocolate and graham crackers. Thus, if I’m going to have me some s’mores without burning off my manbits, it’s most likely going to be in my kitchen (or your kitchen, while you’re asleep).

    This sort of marshmallow fascism is exactly the kind of rhetoric you’d see on a Saturday morning cartoon called “Axis Babies” (starring Lil’ Hitler, Benny “The Moose” Moussilini, and a cute cardboard robot with the words “Hirohito 9000” scrawled across its chest in crayon).

  21. This is a good thing. S’mores need to be brought down a peg. S’mores are a waste of a nice graham cracker, a waste of chocolate, and a horrible waste of a perfectly roasted marshmallow.

  22. Part of me says Allow. The existence of such a product name helps mitigate our unfair and harsh female beauty standards and relax general body issue insecurity.

    But another part of me says c’mon, you could probably stand to lose a few pounds.

    Also, what Pearce77 said.

  23. I don’t even understand this. How does that contraption work? Does anyone really have space to store such a bullshit one-job gizmachie anyhow? And the shear thought of cleaning melted chocolate and marshmallow off a bunch of wire racking… What a stupid idea. I haven’t tried it, but it seems that a candle flame and a marshmallow on the end of a fork would be a better idea than this.

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