On marshmallow bunnies and a little boy

It’s Easter Sunday and I’ve let the weekend  come and practically go without any attention to the spirit of Easter cooking.
So tonight I’m making belated marshmallow bunnies.
The marshmallow bunny is an Australian-Easter icon. I remember them from my childhood, they were more like the shorts than the main attraction, but they were there.
Brace yourself partners, there was a time when going to the movies involved a short film or cartoon (‘the shorts’) followed by intermission and then the feature film.
The marshmallow bunny was fun but I knew there was something better to follow.
This Easter, Skater-boy and ‘I’m the arty one’ are spending time with the lovely Deputy so it is a good opportunity to try my hand at the marshmallow bunny.
The moulds are available from Habitat a few weeks before Easter and they come in itsy-bitsy, mother-ship, and ‘just right’ along with a recipe. Basic marshmallow is four things: sugar, water, gelatine and energy.
Have you ever noticed that the McKenzie’s gelatine is titled ‘Edible Gelatine’? Like what is inedible gelatine? #tooscaredtoGoogle
A wise cook measures their cochineal rather than pours straight from the bottle into the mix. The efficient/time-poor cook embraces the very pink bunny and coats it in coconut. My take on the marshmallow is to use rosewater rather than vanilla.
Making marshmallow bunnies this year is a dedication to a little boy. I don’t actually know him, I’ve only heard a bit about him. I know when he was a bit younger he sneaked the condensed milk out from his mother’s shopping and secreted it away for his own pleasure.
And I’ve seen a photo of him, perched on a Housing Commission fence, against the grandeur of a snow-covered Mount Wellington, in the yard of the family home before it was fragmented.
Still in his childhood, he has his little toy bear stuffed in his pocket. A sunny happy boy, before he had to be responsible before his time.
I know this little boy likes marshmallow bunnies but he probably thinks he’s too big now to have one, but I’ve made them thinking about him.
They’re a gift for others, but they are a dedication to him.

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