How to Make Homemade Marshmallow Peeps
It’s always more fun to DIY. Every week on Food52, we’ll spare you a trip to the grocery store and show you how to make small batches of great foods at home.
Today: Just in time for Easter, Molly Yeh from My Name is Yeh is sharing a recipe for marshmallow Peeps, which can be your friends and your food.
The world wants us to make Peeps.
I discovered this on a day that began with reading an article in the local paper in which Marilyn Hagerty called a Ruby Tuesday “one of the stars in the restaurant scene” of my new town. It was a day I almost gave up on food.
On top of all of that, I had an all-around bad feeling about finding appropriate Peep-making tools following a string of failed attempts to locate recipe supplies in North Dakota. Brisket was only available frozen, daikon was nearly nonexistent, tapioca balls cost a fortune. It’s a tough life sometimes, the small town one.
But then, I found myself in an actual DIY Peeps section in my two local stores. As I stood there going back and forth between the metal mold and the two (two!) silicone varieties, I thought I might be dreaming.
I debated whether it would be a cop-out to spend money on a mold rather than trying to perfect my piping skills. But then I remembered why I hadn’t tried making Peeps before: I never wanted to ruin a batch of marshmallow batter by failing to pipe perfect Peeps. I cringed at the thought of going through the mess of homemade marshmallows only to come out with ugly blobs.
I wanted a surefire way to make perfect Peeps on the first try. I wanted that mold. I needed that mold. Is this what good marketing is?
So I took home the silicone bunny-and-chick mold and tested all of the possible ways I could imagine myself making Peeps: with the mold, a cookie cutter, or freehand piping. The mold proved the most consistent way every time, but if you can’t find one — or you’re up for the challenge of hand-piping your peeps — there are plenty of tutorials online.
Because I took the easy route and used a mold, I was left with plenty of brainpower to think up odd flavors: Matcha worked, Sriracha didn’t. I even used Campari, which proved to be a boozy success.