Little Debbie Christmas Tree Cakes Coffee Creamer

By Martin Peyruc

Reporter Life News Today, The Reckless Gastronome

Happy Holidays everyone! Now seeing as this article is coming out long after Yule, Christmas, New Years, and all the other winter events, the holidays I’m wishing well for are Martin Luther King Jr. Day (assuming someone hasn’t abolished it yet) and Groundhog’s Day. I do want to apologize for the infrequent new articles, between the holidays, my day job, and my fifth wedding anniversary (I included that one just to brag) I’ve been spread a little thin (even if my waistline has done the opposite.)  So, while it may be hard to find currently in stores (check in the discounted holiday section, I’ve seen a couple left), I have a suspicion that this will be back next year so bookmark this article for next year.

As tempting as it is to give the history of pagan Christmas trees (a Krampus level threat if you guys vex me), I think in the spirit of holiday cheer I will keep things light and talk about the history of Little Debbie. Our story begins during the Great Depression (so much for keeping things light.) O.D. McKee and his wife Ruth bought a small bakery in 1934 that he used to be a salesman for. They put the family car up as collateral (a Willys Whippet, which is as old timey a car name as I can think of) and used public transportation to make deliveries. They even lived in the bakery, using a sheet to give the family a small measure of privacy. It almost easy to romanticize all this, it sounds cozy. Warm ovens and the smell of baked goods, a family pulling together to make this work, but this was a real sacrifice. They had gotten out of debt during the Great Depression, and then went back into it on a gamble. Also, this wasn’t a single wood oven bakery, but an early 20^th century food factory, likely insanely hot and filled with industrial mixers and large ovens, with nary a safety regulation to be found, not exactly the kind of place to raise small children, but they certainly did. The fledgling company survived and the family continued to grow (biographies almost never include how long hardships lasted for, did they live like that for years or was it just a couple weeks?), but they didn’t really hit the big time until 1960 when they named their individually wrapped Oatmeal Crème Pies box after their granddaughter, Debbie (who being four years old at the time was in fact quite Little.) These proved to be a huge success selling 14 million cakes in just 10 months. By 1964 they had 14 different varieties including Swiss Cake Rolls (which probably aren’t Swiss) and Nutty Buddy (not to be confused with the men’s athletic cup manufacturer, I guess they didn’t trademark the name) Wafer Bars.

Then in 1985 Little Debbie introduced its Christmas Tree Cakes. Yellow cake trees sandwich smooth cream and are enrobed by white frosting with wavy red stripes and green sprinkles. These proved to be a huge hit and were quickly adopted as a holiday tradition. Their yearly arrival to store shelves, heralds winter as surely as Mariah Carey and debates on “Baby, it’s Cold Outside” (art should first be viewed in its original context and only then can it be reassessed in the modern perspective.) It’s soft, its creamy, and it’s festive. This year on its 40^th anniversary Little Debbie came out with two new versions. One is a jumbo version, which is great, but would be a dull review (it also reminds me of the scene in The Kids in the Hall movie, Brain Candy, but it doesn’t have the same side effects) and a flavored non-dairy coffee creamer. Incidentally “Little Debbie” is now Debbie McKee-Fowler and serves as the Chairman of McKee Foods Board of Directors and the fourth generation of the family is starting to work for the company (I guess there’s no escaping the family business.)

Now it’s time for a section that I’ve been referring to myself as my Caveats, Confessions, and Cop-Outs (I’m still workshopping it, so the name may change next time.) It’s where I admit something that makes me a poor judge. For example, Mrs. O’Leary’s cow is innocent, I’m the one that kicked over the lantern. Oh, I probably should limit this to things directly related to the article. In that case, I should mention that I’m not a coffee drinker. I can’t tell good coffee from bad coffee. To paraphrase Uncle Iroh, “it’s nothing more than hot bean juice.” I have however been trying to change that. I secured a pour over coffee maker (cunningly disguised as a Solstice gift for my spouse) and have been attempting to learn how to brew coffee. So far, my best result is “dark as motor oil, twice as thick, and three times as strong.” I still can’t tell the difference, but I have noticed that after drinking the pot I’m a bit twitchy (and can vibrate my molecules through time and space.) Eventually, I’ll figure out how to make it better, but for now there’s a review to do.

Let’s move from the outside inwards. I had I hard time finding these in stores partially because I got a late start on finding what I wanted to write about, but also because as I was searching stores, I had heard rumors of this creamer before I had actually seen it, and wasn’t expecting to find it in a bright red box. Almost every other flavored creamer on the market comes in bottle. There’s a surprising reason for this; they are actually made in Germany! I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised, if there are two things everyone knows about Germany, one of them is that they love Christmas. It also explains why the box has the EU mandated cap that doesn’t come off completely. I like not losing the cap, but it doesn’t seem to tighten as much as I would hope and will leak if left on its side. Once you open that cap though, the first things that hits you is just how close the scent is to the cakes. It smells more like a Christmas Tree Cake than the actual cakes do. It smells (and is) a bit too sweet even, if only I had a bitter liquid to pour it into. Eureka! I can put it into the near hazardous coffee I subtly referenced earlier. I used Folgers medium roast coffee as it seemed like the most common brand available to serve as a baseline. I followed the instructions and used the provided scoop to a measure of one scoop to one (6 oz) cup of 212°F water (these were the instructions on the box, but I’ll keep reducing the amount of grounds in future pots until I find a healthy equilibrium.) I probably should have measured out the creamer as well, but went by color and taste instead. I didn’t add any sugar, but I honestly didn’t need any. It is extraordinarily sweet on it own. Even with my slightly sludgy coffee the flavor is distinctly cakey and sweet. I like it, but it’s something that is very easy to over do and make cloying. The trick is in finding the right dose. I did find it to be a bit oily, but I’m told that’s a common feature in non-dairy creamer, so I didn’t take that into my consideration.

Now I’d be a poor reviewer (I mean, I am, but still) if I didn’t put it though more testing. I made two more pots of coffee, trying to dial in the right amount of grounds (on different days, I’m reckless, not self-destructive) and then I thought, even though it’s not the official way of serving it, why not on the rocks? Oh man, that was a lot. If there was any dairy in this, I’d say it was like getting smacked in the face by a reindeer udder (which they have, I checked.) That was way too “festive.” On its own, it makes eggnog look like the Grinch (not in color, obviously.) I thought I was going to get visited by the ghost of Wilford Brimley. Lesson learned; it needs coffee.

So, while I may be too late to find any at the time publication, I suggest keeping eyes peeled for this next season. It’s really good, tastes exactly like it promises, just keep it to reasonable amounts, lest you need to start asking Santa for insulin. Oh, if you like my mug in the first photo, you can order one like it from https://www.thelionpotter.com/.