The day following MAD, the boat is alive with an indie French tv crew filming Daniel making his lime marshmallow dessert in the morning, Paul Rozin coming by for a visit in the afternoon, and many chefs and distractions and exclamations in between.
A day or two later, we still have leftover meringue kicking around the fridge, and Ulla gets the insatiable urge for marshmallows. We decide to replicate Daniel’s lime ones and grill them over our Big Green Egg.
Icebergs on a billowing sea.
The marshmallow, already shorn roughly, folds back on itself over the grill, curling into a crisped, pliant drape. There’s some leftover frozen lime marshmallow too; the only thing is to serve them up together: hot and cold, with a bit of woodruff. ‘Cause what does it not make better, rounder, more inscrutable.