Not really much of a Def Leppard fan, that blog title post comes from their popular tune "Pour Some Sugar On Me" which played over and over on the radio when I was in high school. But what I want to talk about is not sugar, but artificial sweetener.
Unless you are a chemist, healthy-foods advocate, industry expert, or just someone who reads labels, you likely didn't know that.
|Some people will only settle for brand names. Not in my kitchen!|
There it is folks: Splenda. As its byline says: The No Calorie Sweetener. I guess Sucralose isn't sexy.
Up until recently, I pulled the ole' Starbucks-owes-me-something-since-they-overcharge-for-their-beverages routine and snagged a wad of Splendas at each visit. We all justify it by convincing ourselves that everyone does it (don't they?) and therefore it's built into the cost of their products. But after thinking about it seriously, I concluded that it is stealing. No matter how many little old ladies in Delray Beach take Splenda packets, it still is wrong. Furthermore, I don't drink coffee and rarely get myself to a Starbucks in the first place.
So, I found myself in the predicament of having to (gasp) actually buy Splenda.
Not a huge fan of artificial anyfood, I try to curtail my use of Splenda. I admit I do use it at times, but I try instead to use maple syrup or Agave nectar as sweeteners for my hot beverages. This is coming from someone who wrote a college paper for her Chemical Science of Our Daily Lives course (one of the two science/math courses my liberal arts curriculum required for graduation) on Artificial Sweeteners, starting with Cyclymate (now banned in the United States) and ending, at the time, with aspartame (Equal).
But I didn't want to buy Splenda after years of Starbucks petty theft and certainly didn't want to spend top dollar on it.
And I didn't want to support the company itself which produces Splenda: Tate & Lyl since I think it's healthier to use a real sugar product (like, sugar).
So, I bought the generic instead, and my guests will just have to deal. It is my way of sticking it to Corporate America. Or Corporate Britian in this case. I now have a box brimming full of generic Sucralose that I bought for $3.99 instead of $5.99 for the brand name.
Over the weekend I found myself at the Woodrow Wilson rest stop on the New Jersey Turnpike. When no Starbucks employees were looking, you can guess what I did.