"What are you doing?" my husband asked. He was staring at me as if I had eighteen heads, each with 20 piercings and Mike Tyson-esque tattoos.
"Making Campfire Bananas," I said. In my head, his question was quite possibly the dumbest one I had ever heard him ask.
"What are those?" he asked.
"Are you serious?" I asked.
"Yeah, what are they?" he responded.
"You are a victim of child abuse," I told him in a bewildered tone.
I turned to Twitter to report this crime against humanity. AND OH MY GAWD. People. PEOPLE! How are so many people oblivious to wonder and majesty that is Campfire Bananas? I weep for the childhood memories you don't have. WEEP.
My memories of Campfire Bananas are wrapped in Girl Scout camp and fires by the lake and all sorts of . . . . hell, who really cares? We're talking about bananas, chocolate, and marshmallows here. The details are pointless.
Anyway, let me share with you how joy can be packaged in a banana peel.
You'll need some bananas, chocolate chips, marshmallows, and I am a fan of throwing some peanut butter into the mix as well. Of course, Nutella could also be thrown in there, but only if you are awesome enough to understand the majesty of Nutella.
Peel one strip from the banana and then cut a groove in the banana, kind of like how the Sandwich Artists at Subway used to cut the bread "boat style."
Stuff that strip full of good stuff.
Put the peel back in place. (You can eat the little bit of banana that you cut out--I won't tell anyone.)
Wrap it in foil.
Throw the banana in your fire pit, fireplace, fire bowl, or whatever form of pyromania you participate in. Hot coals work better than actual flame-age.
Let it sit on the fire long enough for the chocolate chips to melt. How long it will take depends on how hot your fire is.
Once it's done, unwrap it, pull the peel all the way off, and eat.
A whole herd of neighborhood kids declared them, "Soooooooo nuuummmmmy!" Best part, now they won't grow up deprived like anyone who has never had a Campfire Banana.