RecipeMuncher

About four years ago, or one house and one baby ago to be precise, one of my dearest friends visited from overseas. Amongst the treasures she brought along there was glassine bag full of sweets in rose petal hues. Marshmallows. From Paris.  Through my childhood I liked marshmallows well enough. Out of a package, sometimes fascinatingly elastic, sometimes with a faint leathered quality to their exterior if the bag was left open too long. Parisian marshmallows were a world apart fr (...)