Star Crunch Scandal
By: Jyll Thomas
Tags: Improv, Humor, Life Lessons, Baking, Food

Star Crunch Snack Cakes versus Social Anxiety

Registering for my Improv acting class was like contemplating Star Crunch snack cakes.

So here’s the thing, you can put sugar, butter and chocolate on dirt and I’ll pretty much eat it. If caramel’s involved, then all bets are off. Jacques Torres could come to my house with a dessert made by him and the Baby Jesus but if they used caramel, I wouldn’t even chance a taste.

When all my friends requested Star Crunch snack cakes for The Big Deborah Baking Challenge, I hung my head in despair. Not only is it the name of a logistically challenging sexual act (Urban Dictionary will enlighten and scar your mind forever, you have been warned) but also caramel plays a major role in the recipe. Star Crunch cakes have very few ingredients yet each one is a high maintenance headache. All you need is sugar, chocolate and Rice Krispies. You don’t even need to bake them, sounds easy, right?

Yet, sugar has to be melted at the precise temperature or you will be left with a grainy sludge instead of golden caramel. You must use high quality chocolate from cacao beans that have been handpicked by blessed virgins, any lesser quality and the chocolate will separate and you’ll end up with cow pies instead of cosmic cakes. Your utensils have to be pristine; forged from Valyrian steel not the stainless steel variety from the baking aisle at Publix. Also, don’t attempt Star Crunch cakes unless your stove is the expensive model accessorized with Gucci oven mitts. A specific candy thermometer must be used to make the caramel as eight degrees difference results in complete failure. Even if you do achieve Star Crunch success, you will still have to go to Home Depot and rent a jackhammer to get the caramel residue out of your saucepan.

I dreaded making these treats almost as much as I dreaded going to improv class. Several friends recommended improv as a way to improve my writing and conquer my fear of public speaking. I am plagued with extreme shyness and social anxiety issues. During a classic example of interaction avoidance, we were at a restaurant and instead of telling the waiter that my fish was cold and raw, I lied and said I wasn’t hungry. I would rather risk Salmonella poisoning than bother the kitchen staff with a request that my food be cooked properly. This is not conducive to a fully functioning life so I took a deep breath and enrolled in an eight-week improv course taught by a local theater group.

Everyone in the class was new to improv and nervous but really friendly. Right off the bat, our teacher, Tommy, stated the first tenet of improvisational theater: letting go of fear lets creativity in. Perhaps this was just what I needed. The first day, I was a blushing, stuttering wreck. As time went on we learned valuable lessons such as building trust with your scene partner to create a successful skit, embracing failure and characters that experience change are more interesting. These and other examples helped my writing as well as influenced the way I experienced everyday situations. By the sixth class I felt comfortable enough to let my guard down.

The instructor told us to form a circle with one person standing on the inside. The person in the middle would then face one person after another and everyone around the circle would ask a quick question such as “do you like ketchup or mustard”. Tommy entered the circle first. Earlier that day, I saw a beautiful video of a couple dancing at their wedding and the groom was in a wheelchair, so was Tommy. I asked him when was the last time he danced? There was a collective horrified gasp of breath from the class and I apologized as I realized the multitude of wrong ways my question could be taken. Tommy kindly told me the last time he danced was a few days ago.

Still, I felt terrible and made sure to ask the rest of my classmates “nice” questions like do you prefer apples or oranges? After everyone took a turn in the middle, I tried to hide but one of the students pointed out that I hadn’t gone yet. I entered the circle and faced Tommy to let him have first swing. He asked why I didn’t want to participate. I felt overwhelmed and trapped and couldn’t articulate the feeling of facing a firing squad, so I told him I didn’t know and turned towards the next inquisitor.

Everyone asked innocuous questions until I faced one girl who asked, “Heaven or Hell?” Like any good goth girl, I threw the horns and said, “Hell.” This didn’t go over too well. I heard someone behind me exclaim, “she said Hell?” I soldiered on and continued around the circle until another person asked, “what’s your least favorite holiday?” I couldn’t think of anything so I blurted out, “Christmas.” More shocked silence and hands clutching pearls.

One of the last exercises we did in class was pair up with someone and pretend to be a talk show host and interview a guest. Here was my chance to show that the darkness was all in good fun. In my best Saturday Night Live Church Lady voice I introduced myself as Sister Mary Fellacio and the guest was a man possessed by the devil. Before I had a chance to ask how his visit with Donald Trump was, I looked over at Tommy and saw an appalled look on his face. I guess he wasn’t an SNL fan. I was the first one out the door to leave class that night.

The next day I talked to my friend, Revell.

“Now the whole class thinks I’m a Christmas hating Satanist,” I said.

“Yaaaas, if you’re lucky!” he cheered.

We talked about what it was like to not be your authentic self for fear of reprisal. He shared that he grew up in a small town in Florida and if he had come out as gay, the bullying he would have endured would be much worse than the feeling of loneliness from the façade he presented to friends and family. Ever since he left Florida, that closet door has been kicked down and he doesn’t let anyone throw shade on his light.

I’m going to finish the class and focus on all the positive aspects of learning improv. And I will not let anyone dim the glow from the black light within me. As for recreating Star Crunch cakes, it’s not worth it to force myself to do something that is more stressful than driving around in Atlanta traffic. I’ll include a link to the Star Crunch recipe I found. Good luck with that. My advice, if you’re craving a gooey mess of caramel, chocolate and Rice Krispies: Little Debbie does it best. Star Crunch snack cakes are at Kroger for $1.99 a box, go get you some.

https://www.seriouseats.com/recipes/2016/05/copycat-star-crunch-no-bake-cookie-recipe.html