Kraft Jet-Puffed Stackermallows

Of all the quintessential summer foods, marshmallows are probably the most classic and the most ambiguous. Call them the Princess Diana of your fantasy summer campfire lineup, a lineup that also includes Redd Fox, Buck Angel, and Jayna from the Wondertwins. Actually, don't do that, that's a cry for help if you do so. Especially if you've already made marshmallow shaped Bruce Oldfield inspired clothing. You need to be hospitalized, and if you commit a mass murder because of it, my website will get negative press in the newspapers. And lots of traffic. Hateful traffic.

And like Princess Diana, this summer, marshmallows have received a new and somewhat anorexic makeover. Too soon? No? Okay. Because my other joke was something along the lines of, "And speaking of Lady Di, she looks better in the car than she does at fifty," but that would have been tasteless and inappropriate. No more tasteless than photoshopping that ghastly hat, though! Anyhow, Kraft Jet-Puffed Stackermallows are indeed that, both stackable and marshmallows. They taste like the standard, fleshy innards of the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man himself but are now rectangular and flattened.
When Kraft offered to send me these, I was immediately intrigued as with most foods, I like the outside's surface area to be fairly large so as to have a large amount of space for crust, seasoning, sauce, what have you, so I was fairly excited to try these out. I started using these in the method God wants us to use them in, by cooking them over a makeshift campfire on the gas range. While the marshmallows are optimally designed for room temperature usage, they simply do not hold up to the standard rigors of marshmallow activity. The corners of the Stackermallows are very prone to catching fire, and make it difficult to get an even char on each side. I wouldn't consider them jet-puffed in their flat form, either.
For the stove, I tested these in five distances from the flame. The first was approximately one inch from the stove, or as I like to call it, "The Evel Knievel." It can be seen at the 12 o'clock mark on my 14 hour clock. You don't know me! The distances went up by an inch, culminating in the one furthest from the stove, also known as "The Bedwetter." With each test, I kept the marshmallow roasting on each side for twenty seconds. On the one inch mark, the marshmallow immediately caught fire instead of broiling quickly like I expected it to and charred not only itself, but the skewer it held as well. It was like watching a crime happen and I felt uncomfortable after. Note that this is the only marshmallow of the entire bunch with an even, albeit charred, cooking.

The two-inch markmallow managed to retain some of its midsection, but the edges, border, and most of its backside, were burnt and gooey. It smelled like caramel but tasted like pain. When I flushed it down the sink, I heard its gurgles of cold relief burbling from the surface. The three inch met a similar fate, its shorter ends curling upwards like the belied surface of a ribcage. It slumped and fell off and ended up cooking on one side only. The four and five inches were indistinguishable as they both cooked only on the edges and still had a soft, powdery midsection. Just like me! The toasting was less of a failure than these.
It was clear that roasting these marshmallows would not have the desired effect, so I turned to my faithful microwave to do the trick in a makeshift s'more out of Newman's Own Organic hermits, a piece of salted caramel chocolate, and hot honey sauce. No, I wasn't high. No, I don't know what I While ten seconds in the microwave was effective for melting, the marshmallow did not retain its flattened shape and instead, melted off the cookie and slumped over. This effect could have been achieved with a regular marshmallow. With the cookie, the hot sauce, and the chocolate, this was a gross s'more, but not as a result of the marshmallow. If you're looking for value and novelty, pick these up.