Reese’s S’more

I’ve been meaning to contribute under the heading “Zillion Dollar Ideas” for some time, but I had abstained for three reasons:

1. How do you top “toilet paper gloves?” (On a side note, while this is an ingenious idea, I’d hate to see the failed prototypes…)

2. Out of sanitary, or in most cases, purely selfish reasons, there are some things I choose to keep to myself. For example, here’s a partial listing of things I don’t like to share with others: The road, my dessert, airplane legroom, leftover pizza, swimsuits, health (in a video game setting), PIN numbers, and toothbrushes. Along those lines, it just seems like brilliant ideas should be hoarded, closely guarded, and possibly used for world domination.

3. Has anyone noticed there is a major deficiency of Zillion Dollar ideas on this site? It’s embarrassing. We’ve been at this for about six months now, and we’ve come up with two. Conversely, a pair of monkeys pounding at two typewriters in the last six months could have easily churned out a few dozen Zillion dollar ideas and probably a couple Shakespearean plays as well… (And frankly, the monkeys would likely have had fewer episodes of throwing fecal matter at each other…)

As you may have guessed, I’ve dealt with this before. Fortunately, I have never been one to quit on things just because I had come to the realization that a primate could render a higher quality product and demonstrate more professionalism in the process. And on that note, I’m pleased to present the Reese’s S’more!

Now ideally, an introduction such as this would take place over a campfire, not in the cold outer reaches of cyberspace. Regrettably, due to a scheduling conflict, the Nobel Prize Committee was unable to “meet me in the woods” for a proper unveiling. I heard through the grapevine that the same thing happened to Stephen Hawking.

Anyway, for once, I won’t bore you with all the minutia about the composition of a typical S’more. It’s irrelevant. Let’s face it, the three little bars of Hershey’s milk chocolate had run its course. It was fine in the 1800’s. That’s all they had. Now, we have an endless array of candy bar options to construct a S’more with. And that line of thinking ultimately led to the Reese’s S’more…

Please understand, with most things, I am a traditionalist. For instance, I have resisted the societal pressure to order a “Pannido” at Jack in the Box. I have firmly stood my ground in opposition to satellite radio. And I have no interest in carrying around Sacajawea dollar coins instead of paper bills. But when it comes to S’mores, I tend to be a little daring. After trying several different candy bar substitutions to the standard milk chocolate, it became instantly clear that the inclusion of peanut butter was a remarkable improvement to the traditional S’more.

Admittedly, anyone can throw together an unconventional S’more recipe and win a slew of Humanitarian awards for their efforts. It’s been done. Look at Gandhi and his lentil S’more. While the ingredients are important, the true brilliance of the Reese’s S’more is derived in the preparation…

To yield the perfect distribution of chocolate, peanut butter and marshmallow within the graham crackers, the Reese’s peanut butter cup must be cut crosswise. This is pretty labor intensive, and borderline impossible to do, which is why I rely heavily on my wife during the assembly process.

First, it takes an amazingly steady (read: not intoxicated) hand to do this… Since I’m never within 20 miles of civilization or sobriety on a camping trip, I leave this delicate incision to my wife. As luck would have it, she possesses the hand-eye coordination and physical dexterity necessary in making Reese’s S’mores or dominating a game of Operation.

Also, you need to have the right knife for the job. Unfortunately, while camping, I simply don’t carry a knife with a blade less than 18 inches in length. While a knife this size is useful for chopping down saplings and performing Crocodile Dundee impersonations, it is just flat out impractical for making ultra fine slices through peanut butter cups.

Again, my wife helps remedy this situation as well. Truthfully, the Reese’s S’more could never have come to pass without my wife bringing every kitchen utensil we own on every camping trip. Only my wife could classify items like melon ballers, spoonrests and flower sifters as part of the bare necessities needed to survive a weekend in the wilderness. Thusly, when the situation calls for it, she nonchalantly removes a paring knife from our knife block and lacerates the peanut butter cup. I seriously doubt most plastic surgeons could make such a precise incision.

Finally, the speed of the cut is important too. If cut too quickly, the whole thing crumbles in your hands. Too slow and the marshmallow is stuck cooking too long, possibly catching on fire, and at that point, the whole S’more is compromised. As you have witnessed, preparation of the Reese’s S’more is a painstaking task and an artform that takes years to perfect. Attempting to master the intricate timing and cutting techniques has driven people to the brink of insanity. I can only promise that the enjoyment of this delicacy makes it all worthwhile.

The Reese’s S’more is my legacy and a gift to my fellow man. I’m disclosing this idea not for profit, but for the betterment of all mankind. I only ask that it be used for the establishment of peace, and not in the pursuit of evil. With that said, I must now begin clearing mantle space for the Nobel Prize…