What is it about this… this wonder of science? The peanut butter Rice Krispie treat with chocolate-butterscotch frosting is surely one of the most rich and decadent foods ever created, yet it’s appeal goes beyond mere taste. In my family, it’s a holiday institution.

We’ve always called them Rice Krispie bars. But they’re not bars, they’re not cookies, and they’re not cakes. Some people even call them “treats” but I avoid that term.  Treats are something that dogs swallow without chewing first.    So, I take from the initials RKB and call them Rocks, which is fitting because that’s what they turn into if you let them dry out. They also sit like rocks in your gut if you eat too many and it’s impossible to swallow one without chewing.

In this age of health enlightenment, I avoid discussing the chemistry of the Rock with outsiders. The recipe scares some people, even after they’ve declared the taste divine.  There is no mystery, really.  Legend has it that my sister found the recipe on the back of a box of Rice Krispies when she was a kid.   I know at least one other person who has tasted this confection before, and so it can’t be that Mom invented it.  (Which, by the way, is like finding out about Santa Claus way after your friends are already wise to him.)

But still, it’s like laws and sausage:  best not to see how they’re made.

Today, I have made a batch for the Thanksgiving potluck at the office.  I brought them last year, too, and surprised a few people who never tasted this particular recipe.  (Yes, there are many other Rice Krispie treats.  But they are truly just treats: things that fall on the floor for Rover.)  So I’m bringing them again under the premise that I’m a joyful holiday reveller who wants to make merry with my coworkers.  Really, I just want them for myself.  If I can arouse the pleasure centers of a few other brains, fine, but don’t take too many.

So there they sit, stacked on parchment paper in a plastic container, ready to be displayed with all the other piles of food at lunch today.  On the counter in my kitchen, tightly sealed, are the rejects.  These are visually unacceptable for holiday gatherings and so they remain behind.  Too bad.

Oh, and I made a mistake at the grocery store.  Since I can’t translate cup measurements into dry ounces, I bought too much of everything.   On my kitchen countertop lie mountains of Rice Krispies, piles of chocolate and butterscotch chips, barrels of peanut butter, and tankards of corn syrup.

What will I do with all this excess?  Make rocks, I guess.