Peanut Butter Nutella S’mores Hot Chocolate

December 2025. Winter in Memphis, 67 years old, and the cold has settled into the house on Deadrick Avenue the way cold settles into old bones — persistently, without malice, just the physics of aging and December. Rosetta has the thermostat set at 74, our eternal compromise, and I cook warming things: stews and soups and slow-braised meats that fill the house with steam and flavor.

Marcus and Angela in Whitehaven, building their family, their house full of the sounds I remember from our own early years — a baby's laugh, a spouse's voice, the daily music of people learning to live together. Naomi growing with the speed of childhood, each visit revealing a new word, a new capability, a new expression that catches my breath because it echoes someone I lost.

I made cornbread in the cast iron skillet — buttermilk, cornmeal, bacon drippings, the recipe that goes back to Mama and before Mama to her mama and before that to wherever the tradition began. Baked at 425 until golden and crusty, the edges dark and lacy, the center soft and crumbling. Some weeks cornbread is enough. Some weeks the simplest food is the most profound.

The week ended on the porch with Rosetta, the evening settling over Orange Mound, the smoker cooling in the backyard. The fire was banked but not out — it's never out, just resting between cooks, holding the heat the way I hold the tradition: carefully, permanently, with the understanding that what Uncle Clyde gave me is not mine to keep but mine to pass, and the passing is the purpose.

That week — the cornbread, the smoker cooling in the backyard, Rosetta and I on the porch as the evening settled — reminded me that warmth is something you make on purpose, not something that just happens to you. When Naomi visits, she wants something sweet and a little dramatic, something that makes her eyes go wide, and I’ve found this peanut butter Nutella s’mores hot chocolate does exactly that — it’s the kind of recipe you hand down not because it’s complicated, but because it makes people feel held. Uncle Clyde taught me that the best food carries a feeling with it, and this one carries winter and firelight and the sound of a granddaughter laughing.

Prep Time: 5 min | Cook Time: 10 min | Total Time: 15 min | Servings: 2

Ingredients

2 cups whole milk
2 tablespoons Nutella
2 tablespoons creamy peanut butter
2 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
2 tablespoons granulated sugar
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
Pinch of salt
2 large marshmallows (or a handful of mini marshmallows), for topping
2 graham cracker squares, crushed, for topping
1 tablespoon mini chocolate chips, for topping

Instructions

Warm the milk. Pour the milk into a small saucepan and heat over medium-low heat until steaming but not boiling, about 4—5 minutes. Stir occasionally to prevent scorching.
Whisk in the flavors. Add the Nutella, peanut butter, cocoa powder, sugar, vanilla extract, and pinch of salt. Whisk continuously until everything is fully dissolved and the mixture is smooth and creamy, about 3—4 minutes.
Taste and adjust. Sample the hot chocolate and add a touch more sugar or peanut butter to your liking. Keep the heat low — you want it hot but never scalded.
Toast the marshmallows. Place marshmallows on a small baking sheet or hold them carefully over a gas flame or under a broiler set to high for 1—2 minutes, until golden and blistered on the outside.
Assemble and serve. Pour the hot chocolate into two mugs. Top each with a toasted marshmallow, a sprinkle of crushed graham crackers, and a few mini chocolate chips. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Peanut Butter Nutella S’mores Hot Chocolate — The Sweet Warmth We Pass Down