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It’s the simplest of desserts, made by hand and cooked outdoors, usually on a camping trip with friends and family and Rick. There are lighting bugs twinkling, and you eat the s’mores around a campfire, while telling scary stories that are definitely made up. Your hands get chocolatey and marshmallowy and start to stick to pine needles and attract bugs. It’s messy, delicious, nostalgic, and simple. It’s America as the Founding Fathers intended it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find a sharp stick.
