“Why does everything that’s gluten-free have to taste like witch’s cookies?”
First of all, Renee got me these pretty amazing “grown-up gloves” for my birthday. I feel very sophisticated. A little like Jackie O if Jackie O ever shit herself.
Also, my boyfriend got me something for my birthday! A painting of a dog. Because I love dogs almost as much as I love my boyfriend, and because my boyfriend hates them—so the new compromise is that instead of ever actually getting a dog, we will decorate our home with them.
We’ll see.
Anyway, leading to this dog painting was a trail of gluten-free bars for me to sample and rate here. Per usual, I will try to be ruthless—with the time-honored, overall conclusion being that my boyfriend is so wonderful that sometimes when I see him I’m not sure if what I’m feeling is love or an actual heart attack.
But about those bars. Some are better than others and some are poison. Read carefully.
Larabar Chocolate Coconut Chew
So, first things first: I smelled this and was like, “No I shouldn’t eat that.” Then I ate it, and spit it onto my boss’s lap. Thus proving my therapist right when she said I should a.) trust myself and b.) not regurgitate onto my boss.
Anyway, in my unprofessional-but-somehow-employed opinion, Larabar’s Chocolate Coconut Chew tastes like human bones excavated from Pompeii, pulverized, and then mixed with stale dates. Seriously this might not be actual food.
Here’s another way to put it:
“A rich bouquet of putrid fruit and volcanic ash” ~ an ad I wrote just now for Larabar’s Chocolate Coconut Chew (you’re welcome love Kathleen)
Conclusion: No.
Ugh. This comes in two forms that I know of: Cherry Cashew (red), and Blueberry Garbage (blue).
I hated both at first. The blue one especially. I still hate the blue one but now I eat the red one almost every day—mostly because it is at the front counter of Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf and a.) I love their coffee, so b.) it’s convenient, and c.) after a while you can get used to anything. I mean let’s be serious: North Koreans incorporate grass and dirt into their cooking. I actually crave it now.
So I guess in a way this is a plug for Pure Organic Cherry Cashew*—but just to warn you it has to grow on you. I can’t remember, really, what I thought about it before I started swallowing it whole every day but I have a feeling the reaction was something along the lines of:
“Why does everything that’s gluten free have to taste like witch’s cookies?” ~ a (probably unfair) first reaction and (possible) ad slogan for Pure Organic Cherry Cashew Bar by me, for free, you’re welcome.
Conclusion: I guess this is my life now.
Surprisingly good! I mean, not great, but given that it’s manufactured by the same company that made Chocolate Chernobyl Chew, I’d say we’re making progress here. What else is there to say, really?
Conclusion: if you like coconut, and are sick of eating breakfast bars that taste like what my boyfriend might describe as the “inside of a sick man’s inner ass”**—then I say go for it.
So surprisingly good that I ate the entire thing and licked my fingers even though I was already full from eating all the aforementioned trash. I’m pretty sure I ingested the chocolate peanut butter one, but have also (since) sampled the chocolate mint and like that too.
Fact of the matter: these taste like normal bars—like delicious, high-calorie, granola bars. Not like diet bars—not like gluten-free or sugar-free or “let’s put some human poop in them just because they all taste like that anyway and if we don’t some skinny lady might not think they’re healthy” bars. NoGii bars taste like something you want to eat.
Conclusion: weird smiling lady, good bar. Eat me, gluten.
Another day. Another compromise.***
*stay far, far away from the blue one; it tastes like a marker.
**for those of you following any of the recent plagiarism scandals, this is an example of self-plagiarism.
***I would like to note here that while I struggle to find gluten-free products that taste like real bagels or actual Halloween candy, some people have real problems. Like cancer.
