I wasn't looking forward to testing this recipe, not because it was written in pink ink but because it didn't sound very appealing. Crunchy applesauce? What is that?
A look through the recipe showed me that the crunch came from a topping made from crushed Cornflakes, nuts, sugar, and butter. Honestly, the thought of crushed Cornflakes on an applesauce bar didn't sound any more appealing than crunchy applesauce. But then I remembered Cherry Winks. They've been a beloved treat in our family for as long as I can remember, and they have crushed Cornflakes on them.
Okay, okay. I would try it out, but my hopes weren't high.
First, the name had to change. From now on, good or bad, they would be Applesauce Crunch Bars.
Then, the shortening had to go. I might have hesitated longer if this recipe had been for cookies, which can spread more or less depending on the type of fat used. Bars, though, would be constrained by the pan and would be fine. They would also be more flavorful with butter, so I added a stick to a bowl, poured in the sugar, and creamed those ingredients together.
The next thing the recipe said to do was sift in the flour, baking soda, salt, and spices. And add the applesauce. That seemed like a lot of ingredients to mix together at once, but I figured, what the heck, I would give it a try.
I beat everything together with a hand mixer, and the ingredients combined well.
The next question was whether to add raisins, dates, or nothing at all. Actually, the nothing-at-all was my idea. Grandma didn't suggest that, but I thought certain of my family members might appreciate nothing in their applesauce bars.
I solved the dilemma by doing all three. I spread half of the plain batter into one side of a greased 9 x 13-inch pan.
I then divided the remaining batter into two portions. One got chopped dates.
The other got raisins. I had a moment of doubt--what if I couldn't tell which side was which?--so I dabbed a bit of batter on the side of the pan to indicate where the mix-ins were.
Next up, the topping. The recipe called for 1/2 cup crushed Cornflakes. I had no idea how much that equated to in whole Cornflakes, so I kept measuring and crushing until I reached 1/2 cup. 1 1/4 cups of Cornflakes turned out to be the right amount.
The Cornflakes went into a bowl, along with the chopped nuts, sugar, and, last of all, melted butter.
It seemed like a lot of topping compared to the thin layer of batter I'd spread in the pan, but I sprinkled it all on anyway, and into the oven it went.
When it came out, it looked okay. Nicely risen, nicely browned. I still wasn't super excited to taste the bars, but that wouldn't stop me from doing my duty.
I gave the standard disclaimer to the family when I brought the bars to the table: if you don't like this, I can get out the ice cream and hot fudge. Or the ice cream and root beer.
I told them where the dates and raisins were and was a little surprised when most of them chose to take a piece that contained either dates or raisins. I, of course, had to try a small piece of each option.
As I did, I concluded that "snack cake" might be a better way to describe this recipe. It isn't dense like most bar cookies. It's light and moist, and there's something almost addictive about the crunch of the top combined with the fluffiness of the warmly spiced cake.
Speaking of spices, I'd decreased the nutmeg to suit the tastes of my daughter, who thinks it "tastes weird." While we were testing, she was heard to say, "Why can't I stop eating these?" so it seemed that I got the spices right.
She wasn't the only one who had multiple pieces. I sat back and watched the whole pan (almost) disappear. As far as the raisins and dates go, most everyone liked them, but they preferred the bars with no mix-ins at all. Even though I'm a fan of dates, I actually liked my raisin piece best, although all of the options were good.
The next day, I had one of the few remaining slices with my lunch. The Cornflakes had softened, so the top wasn't as crunchy as it was when fresh from the oven. However, the bars were still addictively yummy. And there you have it--the right words to describe these bars. I should have known better than to doubt Grandma's box.