I started my quest to make a sugar free Rice Krispy Treat months ago when I went in search of a sugar free Marshmallow Kreme. I first bought fat free Marshmallow Kreme and didn’t realize until driving home that I’d screwed up. There never was any fat in there — the label fooled me big time!
I finally made a trek across the city to get the Marshmallow flavoring. I could have ordered online, but hey, if I can buy locally and save the shipping, I’ll do it, even though it meant driving way out of my way and spending half the afternoon, not to mention buying a bunch of extra crap I didn’t intend, so all-in-all, saving the $2 shipping probably cost me about $30. Anyway, off I went to The Decorette Shop, a bakery supply shop located on Foster Rd. at 54th Street in Portland, Oregon. I could spend hours in stores like this, and that’s where my trouble began…
Walking in a book rack smack dab in the front doorway caught my eye, so I stopped to browse. I swear, they kept coming by and asking if they could help as if I was setting up a cot and planning to stay the night. I finally said, “You must not sell many books,” referring to their obvious discomfort that I was loitering, or whatever they thought was going on. Really, I was just a shopper, okay? I’m not buying a book without looking at it, it’s not a crime, at least not last I checked.
If you’re going to stock thousands of items don’t freak out when someone actually wants to stop and take a look, okay? Clerks? Are you hearing me? I hate being asked if I need help when I’m obviously doing just fine, thank you. Ask me when it’s obvious I need help. Look for those subtle clues customers give like looking frantically for a clerk, eyes darting here and there. That helpless, “I have no idea where what I want is located in your fine store” look; seeking, searching but not finding. That’s the look of a customer who needs help. Head in a book, contented expression means this person does not need help. In fact, asking if I need help is an interruption I don’t need.
I’m off track, back to the saga of the Sugar Free Rice Krispy Treats: I procured the Marshmallow Oil and eventually made my way home where I commenced the project of making Marshmallow Creme, then creating the world famous Rice Krispy Treats, hoping for such an incredible breakthrough in sugar free taste treats that I’d be famous and make millions of dollars. Uh, huh, sure.
What I got instead was a Snap, Crackle, Pop experience when I poured on the marshmallow glop, which I was pretty sure I shouldn’t be hearing. Next thing you know I have a soggy mass of Rice Krispy Not-such-a-treat, and I went ahead and put that in the pan because I’m nothing if not persistent.
It looked pathetically bad, so I added more Rice Krispies hoping to crisp it up a bit. It didn’t work. The wet krispies sogged up the dry krispies so now I had more wet krispy crap. If you closed your eyes it smelled okay, but if you mistakenly put some in your mouth you were in for a bad surprise. It had no crisp and I think that’s a critical component in the Rice Krispy Treat — hence the Krispy part of the name you see.
The Anti-Martha Stewart
After all this I realized I’d used about 35 pans and utensils so I got out the camera and displayed them all in a fine arrangement if I do say so myself, then took a shot, all so I could illustrate this wonderful yet sad little story ala Martha Stewart style. Hey, maybe I’m the anti-Martha Stewart? I always failed at No Fail Fudge. Seriously.
So, if you want to make the Sugar Free Rice Krispy Treats I’d suggest you don’t. I’d rate them less than zero if I could, on a scale of anything to zero. They sucked, badly. I’m not happy I drove all over town, spent about $35, then an hour making marshmallow and finally figured out it was a disaster, but hey, someone’s got to do it, right? Might as well be me, at least this time. Next time, how about you try something and let me know? That would be swell.
