What I'm Up Against

Moleskine II, filled with my scribblings to the point where he is in danger of irreversible spinal injury, has announced he will be taking some much-needed convalescent leave after tonight's Top Chef All-Stars finale.

Resultingly, I was obliged to visit my local outpost of Barnes and Noble yesterday to pick up a new notebook. While I was there, I decided to pay a call at Starbucks for an invigorating tall soy latte.

Whoever decided to put cappuccino counters in bookstores anyway? They're my Achilles' heel. In the gluten-filled good old days, I could rarely resist a sweet companion to my java - a packet of madeleines, maybe, or a slice of pumpkin loaf. If I was feeling wicked or gossiping with a companion, it was not unknown for me to indulge in a great slab of cheesecake or one of those vanilla cupcakes with buttercream swirled a mile high (I know I am on record as saying that I think cupcakes are silly - but the Starbucks' ones grabbed me right in the ol' sweet tooth).

Sadly, the pickings in the pastry case (sorry, vitrine) are pretty slim for a gluten freedom fighter such as myself. More correctly, they are nonexistent. A Kind cranberry and almond bar (all natural! certified gluten free! dairy free! loaded with anti-oxidants! doesn't taste like packing material!) or some milk chocolate, perhaps, but nothing squidgy, squishy, creamy, and sweet sweet sweet to satisfy the soul.

But that's OK. Like Job, I have become accustomed to my lot in life.

Today, for some reason, I noticed an additional comestible possibility next to the cash register: packs of gluten-free chocolate chip cookies. To protect the innocent, I shall give them a rhyming pseudonym: We'll See's, as in we'll see if they're any improvement on the usual gluten-free calamities on offer at other retailers.  The founder of the brand, Doctor 'We'll See' herself, has composed a little blurb for the back of the bag where she claims to care about us and be our friend.

Right away, that made me suspicious. Who wants to eat a cookie that's been prescribed by some sort of nutty medical zealot? Not me, that's for sure.

Naturally, I bought a bag.

Why do I do this to myself? Well, for one thing I feel it's my duty as a public figure to sample these products so readers may benefit from my experience. Failing that, I am painfully aware that a certain schadenfreude has the capacity to amuse Others Who Read About My Misfortunes. No sacrifice is too great in the service of truth or entertainment.

Also, I was hungry.

A quick perusal of the label while my soy milk was being steamed to frothy goodness revealed that Dr. 'We'll See' was attempting to mimic a real cookie through the use of a fairly typical g/f flour blend (oat flour, chickpea flour, potato starch, sorghum and fava flours); together with the unnecessarily earnest additions of soy milk, non-dairy lactic acid (huh?) and vegan chocolate chips. For crying out loud, isn't the fact that it's gluten-free sufficient? Is it necessary that we also flog the organic horse to death? I snarled to nobody in particular as I considered the inability of baked goods lacking in eggs, sugar, and butter to be worthy of my time or the effort it takes to digest them. In addition, I was a bit nonplussed to see that even without these worthy components, the itty-bitty bites contained something like fifty calories each!

I decided to postpone sampling my new purchase until I got home, as the convening of tasting panels gives a certain purpose to my gluten-free existence. Since it was curry night, I figured that even if the treats were a total disaster, the let-down might be leavened somewhat by the satisfaction of the preliminary feast and another exciting episode of Lost (we're at the one where John Locke utters the immortal line, 'This is not a democracy!' and the identity of Kate's baby is revealed: all gripping stuff, I'm sure you'll agree).

After the thrilling denouement I proffered my offering to the boys who, in a spirit of willingness, if not eagerness (at this point, they have even less hope than I that anything good can come of these sessions), agreed to tell me what they thought.

We each chose a cookie and did our best to be objective.

The Kid Squid's verdict was the first in. He declared his judgement after just one bite and subsequently begged to be excused from the exercise (the poor thing really has been worn down by months of my foolishness). The Squid likes his cookies on the soft and gooey side and was repulsed by the way his specimen 'instantly disintegrated'. 'It tastes strange to me,' he opined, before refusing to speak further on the subject and dashing to the kitchen for a piece of fudge, better known as 'a proper dessert.'

Sir was somewhat more detailed in his reporting, although his ruling was essentially the same. He thought the cookie was 'all right, but unsatisfying' and found 'no joy' in its consumption. The texture and flavor reminded him of an English digestive biscuit, which he attributed to the presence of oats in the batter. In my memory, digestive biscuits are things of great subtlety and beauty. These sadly, were not.

My own tasting notes recorded that the cookies were crisp and crumbly rather than chewy - in my opinion, a fatal flaw. The chocolate chips, such as they were, tasted of nothing at all. Additionally, the cookies did that g/f thing of sticking in my back teeth for all eternity - or at least, until I brushed my teeth later a few minutes later. The usual unwelcome aftertaste also lingered. I imagine that if one were to be so incautious as to eat an entire cookie, one's gastro-intestinal tract would be clogged with cement-like g/f flour for 36 hours, at least - but since I had only a small taste, I'll never know for sure.

That was one sacrifice that even I - servant of the gluten-free gods and an enquiring public - was unwilling to make.