For every dish there is a season, just not the same one
As someone who tries not to get upset at too many things out of my control, cinnamon could be what finally sends me over the edge. It's everywhere I don't want it to be.
I don't necessarily hate it - it tastes great with a little sugar on toast, and it's necessary for a decent apple pie. However, I can't understand why it's been considered some kind of miracle ingredient and has been dumped into so many of our foods.
I can think of four things I used to enjoy that are now laden with cinnamon and off my shopping list forever.
First, I'm still bitter about the change in the recipe for Cracklin' Oat Bran cereal. It must have been about nine years ago when I sat down to eat a delicious, hearty snack of it and was met with a mouth full of cinnamon.
At first I hoped that the company made two versions of Cracklin' Oat Bran; regular and cinnamon, but they were all the same. Instead of that earthy, oat flavor, the cereal now tastes like generic cinnamon balls.
Next on the list of cinnamon sins is a little more embarrassing and happened about three years ago.
After my personal observations of the cinnamon conspiracy, I met my greatest ally in my husband.
I always thought it was nice that he enjoyed coffee as much as I did and found it slightly charming that he drank CafŽ Vienna in the evenings. He even carried it with him in case a craving came when he was away from home.
We shared many cups of the tasty drink, until we noticed a new box had a label that said "New improved taste." I guess "new" is universally understood to mean "more cinnamon."
He was more upset at this than almost any time I've witnessed him in anger.
He called General Foods to talk to whichever International Coffee person was behind the recipe change. He asked why the sweet, creamy taste was being turned into nothing more than cinnamon tea.
He also offered to buy any leftover cases of the original recipe. That wouldn't work, according the company representative, but he gave them his name and address just in case. Since that call, we've both been a little afraid that his name is on a list of fanatics under investigation. Or worse yet, that his voice will appear on one of those comedy CDs that uses audio from customer service calls.
All this trouble because of cinnamon, and it's not over yet.
After the Cracklin' Oat Bran debacle, I found a good enough backup cereal to get me by. My standard became Honey Bunches of Oats. It had a not-too-sweet sampling of grains that I truly enjoyed... that is, until I was hit by the cinnamon conspiracy again.
For about five years now, the "bunches" of oats have been sprinkled with cinnamon, which only serves to cover up the oat-y flavor I love.
And the problem goes beyond cereal. I can't even find a store-bought bran muffin that isnÕt loaded with cinnamon. I havenÕt run across a muffin with that pure taste of bran that used to be easy to find.
I'm trying to move on. I don't want to sound like an 80-year-old who says, "In my day they knew how to bake without everything tasting the same."
My husband is doing his best too. He's given General Mills and Hills Brothers versions of CafŽ Vienna a try. We also found a homemade recipe that is supposed to be identical to the General Foods one so weÕre going to experiment with that.
For all you cinnamon fans, you should know that I do realize its merit. It's just not the king of my spice cabinet. And just in case anyone feels like making me a decent bran muffin, you know where to find me.
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