Once upon a time, in Ye Olde Bachelor Days, I was pretty happy with a couple or seven cups of coffee for my morning repast. That pretty much fulfilled my needs, which consisted of liquids and a dose of caffeine big enough to keep an entire herd of buffalo rampaging through a half-dozen Western states before lunch. Occasionally, there might also be doughnuts if someone lost a bet on Sunday’s football game. But, since we’ve been married, Mary has been trying to modify my eating habits, and breakfast is a fertile field for reformation. So, nowadays I have a few cups of coffee, a handful of crumbs from the bottom of the toaster, and a piece of that withered apple that was hiding in the back of the fridge, to start the day. Well, it’s progress of a sort.
But, on those days when I decide to go out and experience the wilderness in all it’s wildernessyness, by hiking slowly and painfully through it, I find that the Victorian Match Girl diet doesn’t quite hack it. Within an hour or so, I’ll be wondering what pinecones taste like. Or if tree bark has any flavor besides, well, bark.
In order to keep me from devouring the local flora, because let’s face it, I’m never going to catch the fauna, Mary suggested I try eating an energy bar, so I’d have some protein to accompany my normal breakfast repast of water, starch, sugar and stimulants. An interesting idea. I don’t much like energy bars. They seem too sweet and have a consistency that ranges from dry fudge to Styrofoam. So I went on a hunt for an energy bar I could stomach.
After a fairly extensive search, and a lot of taste testing, I can safely say that the Kind Bars are pretty ideal. Not too sweet, a good bit of protein from lots of nuts and pretty decent taste. That’s my secondary recommendation. My primary recommendation is never, ever, under any circumstances, eat a Fiber One bar. Ever. Whatever they have in them, and Mary thinks it’s chicory root, which is a source of dietary fiber or something, causes the generation of intestinal gases in such prodigious quantities that you will literally be praying to any and all gods to make it stop. In simpler terms, you will fart, a lot, loudly, and with a frequency that will be truly astounding. And if you make the mistake of eating two Fiber One bars, instead of just one, you might find yourself banished to spend the day out in the backyard, all by yourself, until your gastrointestinal system rights itself. Just saying.