Rice Krispies Can't Fix Everything, and A Favor

A few days ago, I attempted some cinnamon divinity. It's a light and airy candy, just a little on the dry side. It falls apart in your mouth like some after-dinner mints or a meringue cookie.

I goofed somewhere on this batch. Possibly, I didn't beat the eggs whites enough, or maybe I didn't heat the syrup to a high enough temperature (the recipe said 155 degrees, but the thermometer markings suggest I should have held out for 160 degrees). Or maybe I was worried about over-beating like I did the opera cremes in December and so didn't beat it enough.

Whatever I did, the end result didn't firm up. I pried it out of the baking dish to cut it, and it oozed it's way off the cutting board. Tasted pretty good, but you needed a spoon to eat it. Cutting it into squares and sharing it for Valentine's was out of the question.

Since adding Rice Krispies salvaged the opera cremes (or at least made them fun and edible), I decided to try a similar approach with the failed divinity. The stuff was about the consistency of marshmallow creme anyway, so cinnamon flavored Rice Krispy Treats didn't seem out of reach.

Maybe I should have used only half of the divinity and more actual marshmallows. Maybe the divinity didn't like being reheated. Either way, I don't have chewy cinnamon-flavored Rice Krispy Treats. I have a pan full of pink, slightly cinnamon flavored, sugar-coated Rice Krispies.

These are not Rice Krispy Treats, modified or otherwise. They are dry, crumbly, and not totally crunchy. Ian thinks a little chocolate might be a nice addition. I think they'd go well mixed in with ice cream. Caitlyn wants to pour milk on them and eat them for breakfast.

There are more of them here than we can reasonably hope to consume. So, here's my honest request: Ping me if you want to take in/on some of my latest culinary endeavor. Sorry, this isn't worth shipping, so Seattle People, I'm looking at you.