In this feature, we take a critical eye to a unique new business concept and ask a simple question: Does Portland really need this? 

1927 S’mores

What is it? A torch-fired artisanal s'mores shop that upgrades your Eagle Scout camping trip memories with bittersweet chocolate fudge and tea-infused marshmallows.

The environment: 1927 grew out of a trendy food cart and into a trendy storefront only a 10-minute walk from Providence Park. Open late on weekends, it's easy bait for Timbers crowds and boozed-up snackers. The small space means it might be a tight fit at peak hours, but being pinned shoulder to shoulder between two strangers recalls nights around the campfire as much as the rustic lighting and exposed wood.

(Andrea Johnson)
(Andrea Johnson)

The food: You can choose to build your own s'more from a list of housemade graham crackers, marshmallows and sauce options ($6), or go with one of the classic flavors ($5), which include bourbon-salted caramel and lemon meringue pie. The Original 1927 is the closest you'll get to the s'more of your childhood, albeit with fancier-tasting chocolate. (A pumpkin pie version is available for a limited time, because 'tis the season.) Other options include ice cream grahamwiches ($4.50), an obscenely rich s'mores parfait ($5) and gourmet hot chocolate ($5). The s'mores are fired up in front of you, hibachi-style—not that anyone needed to lift the curtain on how s'mores are made.

Pros: If you haven't eaten a s'more in a while—and given this underwhelming summer, it's probably been at least a year—the combination of chocolate, marshmallow and graham cracker is effectively fail-proof, and if you can swallow the price, you'll get your fix.

(Andrea Johnson)
(Andrea Johnson)

Cons: A blind taste test between 1927's elite ingredients and those of the Honey Maid and Jet-Puffed variety is probably going to come out a draw. The blowtorch really just warms up the marshmallow for smushing and can't replicate the charred taste a fire provides. And if you take your order to go, it will cement to the bottom of its cardboard boat and you will have to go at it face-first, or opt for the blasphemy of a knife and fork.

Do we need this?: Not really. The legacy of the s'more is that it doesn't need to be elevated—the original recipe is a slam dunk every time. Unless you're absolutely jonesing, saving yourself for the stick-and-campfire method is worth it.

GO: 1927 S'mores Company, 1126 SW Alder St., 503-334-8080, 1927smores.com. Noon-10 pm Sunday-Thursday, noon-11 pm Friday-Saturday.