In the deep dark recesses of outer Sausalito, California, there's a verdant patch of redwoods that is humid and lovely and magical and straight out of the Lord of the Rings trilogy. So much so that Anne and I have been hiking in said wood and actually seen some kind of live-action role player guy wandering around with his LOTR (TM) cloak and LOTR (TM) leafy clasp. I only wish that I were making that up. And everything smells wonderful, like a candle shop at the mall, and you start to get the idea that you could plant just about anything in that earth and it would grow.

I believe this is why the makers of be powered protein bars scooped some of said earth up, pressed it into bar form and started selling it for $1.50 a pop at Target. 

The label is very pretty, sort of following the Real Simple mode of aesthetics, with very simple fonts, lots of white space, close-ups of succulent fruit and healthy stuff. "Oh, I will eat this and it will taste of berries and be wonderful and then I will organize my pantry!" You think to yourself and then you buy it. This is how they sucker you. Right there. Because inside that pretty package? It's enough to make you weep.

When opened, the really beautiful wrapper reveals something that looks very much like an authentic bar of poop. Carefully molded, partially digested and thoroughly disgusting. I grew up on a farm and I have shoveled mounds of this exactly protein bar in the horse fields. But I persevered on, because I love you people. And for science, I thought. I will be like Madame Curie of the Protein Bar set. And protein this bar has! In spades! 13 gorgeous grams to 23 grams of carbs and a measly 2.5 grams of fat. The pretty wrapper also indicates that it has 24 vitamins and minerals and it does this right on the front, in a slightly smaller font than the grams of fat/carbs/protein, as though it feels a little modest about bragging and oh shucks, it's no big deal, it's only 24 of the crucial building blocks to healthy living, that's all.

Fine, wrapper, I'll try the damned bar.

I swallow a lot of things, being a fat girl, that much should be obvious. Many things go into my mouth, never to be seen again. And this bar? My teeth sunk halfway through the end and then stopped. No more. Uh uh. Not going to do it. I did not complete the bite and set it back down.

I sized up the bar. The wrapper pleaded with me.  "better nutrition for active lifestyles" it tells me. See how that wrapper flatters me? you're active, it whispers in lowercase letters. And then in a big round red circle, it tells me to be. Just that. be. In lowercase again, because it's all about the subtle whispers. I am a sucker for the lower case letter. Lowercase letters are the reason that I own more kate spade purses than I care to admit.

I picked it back up and went back in to finish biting through the bar. Yeah, I should have listened to my teeth, for they knew that no good could come of this protein bar. My teeth do not care if something has a pretty package with lowercase letters on it. The ingredients list, in theory, sounds like it would be tasty. Soy protein is the first ingredient, with honey being second. We all know how I feel about honey. The third ingredient is fruitrim. I don't know what the fuck fruitrim is and after reading this, I still don't know, although I did find out that fruitrim is apparently available by the tanker carload, like many volatile petrochemicals. Judging from the taste of this bar, my vote goes for prunes. Lots and lots of prunes. And also, mediocrity.

Verdict on the be powered protein bars? No. Just...no.--Weetabix