[Photographs: Carrie Vasios]

Cinnamon Toast Crunch is one of the best breakfast cereals out there. (Well, at least Cereal Eats columnist Leandra agrees with me, and her word goes.) It's good plain—a baggie or two definitely improves long car rides—and it's fantastic with milk, when it sheds some of its cinnamon sugar coating and creates a secondary treat that's the perfect chaser to the cereal itself. Plus, given that even plain-jane Rice Krispy Treats can be repurposed into awesome dessert, it seemed pretty clear that baking with CTC would be even better than uh, baking and eating CTC.

Unfortunately, I have yet to find the right recipe. (Ok, truth: I haven't really tried.) Fortunately, Betty Crocker has stepped in. There is a new line of cereal-inspired muffin mixes, including Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

The box comes with two pouches of mix, neither of which, I'm sad to say, show any signs of actually actually containing breakfast cereal. The large pouch contains the mix for the muffin base, and the smaller pouch, the streusel topping. Both smell like Drake's coffee cakes (in a good way).

As you would suspect from a Betty Crocker boxed mix, and any recipe that involves cereal, these muffins are super easy to put together. All you have to do is mix together 2 eggs, some vegetable oil, water, and the powdered mix. Then, fill the muffin tins and top with a little of the premade streusel topping. Aside from trying not to gag at the mucusey look of the mixture before it smooths out, it's a cinch.

Check out that dome.

When I pulled the muffins out of the oven, I was immediately impressed. There was sizeable domage—the tops of the muffins were tall and shapely, rising above the tin by a half-inch at least. These definitely get props for appearance, especially given the flat muffin represented on the box. The taste was also better than anticipated. The muffins aren't very sweet—they taste more like cinnamon than sugar, and a lot like cinnamon Teddy Grahams.

The muffins were perfectly soft and moist. My only qualm is the topping. Not only did I want more of the streusel, but I wanted it to have more texture. As I feared when I sprinkled the fine, sandy mixture onto the batter, it basically melted into the muffin.

And, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I kind of wanted the muffin, at least the top, to be sweeter. That's right. Can I have more sugar in my boxed sugary cereal-inspired muffins? I mean overall these are mild, well textured cinnamon muffins. On the one hand, bravo Betty Crocker. On the other, when I buy a muffin that's inspired by Cinnamon Toast Crunch, I want it to taste like Cinnamon Toast Crunch. I suspect that the other people who will buy this mix will also do so because they like the sugary cinnamon squares that make up the far from balanced breakfast cereal. CTC lovers looking for a pastry incarnation of their cereal might be dissapointed in these restrained, balanced muffins.

In short, if you're looking for a lightening fast boxed cinnamon muffin mix, you could do worse than these. If you're looking for Cinnamon Toast Crunch reincarnated as a muffin, you'll have to keep looking.

About the author: Carrie Vasios is the editor of Serious Eats: Sweets. She likes to peruse her large collection of cookbooks while eating jam from the jar. You can follow her on Twitter @carrievasios

[Photographs: Carrie Vasios]

Is it just me or does Halloween get busier every year? The big issue is obviously finding a costume. I'd love to throw on a polo and some mittens, call myself a presidential candidate, and call it a day, but then again, I always end up wearing some stupid pun that no one understands. Gang Green. Get it? We're all wearing...Oh hand me the candy.

Instead I'll spend too many hours trying to find something that is both witty and attractive because apparently that is what Halloween is all about. And in between, there will be pumpkin picking escapades, because no one seems to realize that pumpkin picking isn't like apple picking and well, not really that fun. (They're already cut off the vine and how many giant gourds can you fit on your windowsill?) Then we'll have to carve said pumpkins and someone will lose a thumb trying to make this guy.

Whew! With all these seasonal activities, I can see how someone would need to turn to a shortcut to get their sweets on the Halloween party table. How someone might pick up a box of Pumpkin Quick Bread Mix because they saw the words Quick Bread and thought, oh man, the original recipe for that is definitely not quick enough.

Luckily, there are quite a few options on the market, including just such a mix from Crate and Barrel, where you might already be shopping for some faux gourds, pumpkin candle holders, or scary mugs.

The mix requires three ingredients which you'll already have in your Halloween-ready kitchen. Because doesn't everyone hand out little butter packets to trick-or-treaters, egg houses, and resuscitate themselves with water the next day?

Assembly of the bread is extremely straightforward. You preheat the oven, butter a loaf pan, and combine the dry mix, eggs, water, and melted butter in a bowl. Sure, this is easier to do as written, but my insider's tip is to whisk together the eggs, water, and butter together in the bowl before adding the dry mix, then stir to combine with a spoon. That way you'll be sure to evenly incorporate all the ingredients without over-mixing the dough. From there, it needs 50 minutes in the oven.

This bread mix definitely gets points for speed of assembly and does pretty well in keeping down the number of dirtied bowls. You'll even have time after cleaning up to make that Martha Stewart bat mobile you saw on her website because if I can't wear a pun gosh darn it I'll hang it from my ceiling.

The question is, how does it taste?

I'm surprised to say that the answer is that it doesn't taste like much. I can't think of a store-bought pumpkin product I've had that wasn't guilty of too much flavor. Those flavors aren't always good—most are guilty of going too heavy handed on the spices and the pumpkin taste is distinctly artificial. But I suppose that, if not the bright squashy taste of actual pumpkin, I at least expected the bread to have nice warming, autumnal spices. A better taste of the cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg which the box assures me is inside.

The tip off should have been the way the powdered mix smelled, which was only slightly of spice and highly of flour. On the positive side, it doesn't taste artificial. It tastes like a loaf you might have bought at a school bake sale, only to get home, unwrap it, and find out that it tastes like practically nothing at all. The bread also has a good texture— it has a soft crumb and isn't overly greasy as so many quick breads are.

This bread definitely won't stand up next to all the candy you'll serve at your Halloween party (unless maybe you put some inside the bread), and, on any other day, you're probably just going to want pumpkin bread with more flavor. Those going the semi-homemade route could add some fresh ginger, or perhaps a teaspoon of cinnamon. Whether you want to spend $8.95 on the base is up to you.

About the author: Carrie Vasios is the editor of Serious Eats: Sweets. She likes to peruse her large collection of cookbooks while eating jam from the jar. You can follow her on Twitter @carrievasios

[Photographs: Carrie Vasios]

As soon as I saw the pyramid of cookie mix tins, shining like so many buckets in the sandbox, I sighed. I knew I would inevitably buy at least one of the new cookie mixes at Williams Sonoma, despite the All-Natural Cupcake Debacle being still oh-so-fresh in my mind.

At least this time I was less shocked by the $18.95 per mix price tag—if my hand still wavered as I handed over the cash. And my thinking was this: this five set cookie mix series is coming hot on the heels of those all-natural cupcakes, so clearly people must be buying them. And if people are buying the mixes, and by that I mean shelling out money that one might say would be better spent on this swanky fruit muddler, then maybe, just maybe, I've had bad luck in past and picked the weakest mixes of the bunch.

There are 5 new mixes: Ranger Cookies, Toffee Chocolate Chunk Cookies, Chocolate Marshmallow Crinkles, Sugar Cookies, and Gluten-free Sugar Cookies. In an attempt to fool the universe, I forewent my first choice (Toffee Chocolate Chunk Cookies) and even my second (Marshmallow Crinkles) and went for Ranger Cookies.

The first thing I noticed was that the tin is enormous, which was both encouraging and puzzling. I hoped it meant that I had just paid for 1/2 lb bags of raisins, chocolate chips, coconut flakes, and other assorted Ranger Cookie mix-ins. But upon opening, it became clear that it was actually just a giant, pretty package for two average sized plastic packets of mix, and I urge you all to save your leftover tins and send them to the charity I'm starting called Children in Need of Sandbox Buckets. (Shovels also accepted.)

In addition to the packets, the cookies require one egg and 3/4 a stick of butter. And here we come to my first major problem with the mix: it requires creaming the spiced-sugar mixture and the butter. I've expressed my issues with this before, but for those new to my rantings, here is my argument in a nutshell: The most annoying part of any baking process is creaming the butter and sugar which a) requires the foresight to leave the butter out to get to room temperature, which itself goes against the whole on-the-spot baking theory of a mix and b) uses arm power and generally denies me the laziness I hope to nurture by using a mix.

But including this step is clearly just how Williams Sonoma wants to roll, so I decided to let it go. Instead, I focused on how freaking delicious that sugar-spice mixture smells; like vanilla, cinnamon, doughnuts, and childhood all wrapped up into one. The next step is to beat in the egg, and finally the flour mixture, which also contains the requisite Ranger cookie add-ins (Or does it? More on that later.)

Having denied myself any anger towards having to cream the butter and sugar, I let myself freak out over what happened next. Scoop the dough into 12 cookies. 12 cookies? I reread the instructions. I looked down at my bowl. There was so much dough. How was that possible? Well it was, resulting in what my handy calculator tells me is $1.58 (not including labor) per cookie.

At least these cookies bake up huge. They're those kind of oversized three-in-one cookies that are mouth watering to look at and fun to eat. Anyone would be excited to pull these out of the oven, and any kid would jump for joy to be on the receiving end.

If you didn't tell them that they're supposed to be Ranger Cookies. Or if you don't have preternaturally epicurean children who know that a Ranger cookie is a chocolate chip raisin cookie made with oats, cornflakes, and coconut. But these days, I don't take that for granted.

Because I didn't taste coconut. I felt an odd chew here or there, but saw no discernible flakes. I tasted raisins, which were exceptionally big, plump, and full of flavor. But, as Robyn would say, WHERE ARE MAH CHIPS? And Corn Flakes, are you there? I'll take a knock-off cereal. Corn Fakes will do. Just give me a little sweet crunch.

The raisin stands alone.

I'd wager a guess that these facts alone are enough deter most people from buying this mix. But in case you're interested, I didn't care for the texture, which was on the stiff side of chewy, similar to Archway Oatmeal Cookies. (Note: I know this last detail is a purely personal preference because those are my father's favorite supermarket cookies of all time.)

I'll admit that after all this I'm still curious about the other 4 mixes. I'll happily shop at Williams Sonoma for other things, items that fall into Cookware and Kitchen Decor. For some reason it's hard for me to believe that a store with otherwise good quality (if at a price) makes such terrible mixes.

Has anyone tried the others? What did you think? Is there hope?

About the author: Carrie Vasios is the editor of Serious Eats: Sweets. She likes to peruse her large collection of cookbooks while eating jam from the jar. You can follow her on Twitter @carrievasios

[Photographs: Carrie Vasios]

Why does someone use a boxed mix instead of baking from scratch? In my mind, there are a variety of possibilities. But let's start with the underlying premise: There is something desirable about a baked good that's made in your own oven over one that's purchased at the store. Boxed mixes wouldn't exist if people weren't drawn to a "homemade" sweet.

Beyond that, some possibilities:

• Option one: You are pressed for time. The boxed mix allows you to significantly reduce the time to produce a baked good in your own kitchen.
• Option two: You're pressed for money. Did you know you can get a box of Safeway Pantry Essentials Blueberry Muffin Mix for $0.79?
• Option three: You think of yourself as a bad baker, or at least as someone who needs some help. You believe that a sweet made from a mix will turn out better than a sweet you make from scratch.
• Option four: You're a 20-something girl in college. Hitting the student kitchen with your friends, a box of Betty Crocker mix, and a bottle of Yellow Tail is practically a required course.

It probably comes as no surprise that I'm skeptical of option number three. I don't believe in bad bakers, I believe in bad grandmothers who didn't show their grandkids how to bake. Just kidding—but I do think that baking is every bit as accessible as cooking, all those measuring cups just make it seem more difficult than it is. And yet I have to believe that option number three is the only explanation for who would purchase Williams Sonoma's New All-Natural Cupcake Mixes.

There are five varieties of the new cupcake mix: vanilla bean, coconut, chocolate, meyer lemon, and red velvet ($14.95/mix). There are also four premade frostings: vanilla bean, meyer lemon, coconut, and chocolate ($19.95/24-ounce jar). I decided to try one standard mix (vanilla bean) and one of what I will call the "special flavors" (red velvet) as well as the frosting that could go on any of the cupcakes: vanilla bean.

Vanilla Bean Cupcakes:

The first thing I noticed about this cupcake mix was the instructions. I mean I have made quite a few cake mixes in my day, and never have I come across instructions like these. First you whisk together milk and eggs in a small bowl. Then, in a separate, larger bowl, you beat together cold diced butter and the mix (Wait? Are we making scones?) until it comes together into a crumbly, sandy mix. This took an annoyingly long time to do, and it seemed as if the mix and the butter just didn't want to come together. Then you add the milk-egg mixture in three parts, "stopping to scrape down the sides of the bowls between additions." Here, Williams Sonoma could not be more of an antithesis to the less-is-more approach of Duncan Hines and co., who sell their product with the promise that the process is just a glossy "add, mix, bake!"

Now if I was someone who perceived myself as unable to make cupcakes at home, I can't see how I would be anything less than intimidated by the extensive, cookbook-esque directions and less than obvious steps. This is in addition to the fact that I think that box mixes should try to rely on melted butter, because creaming butter is the step that most bakers are probably trying to avoid.

Then there's the cost issue. At $14.95 per mix (without the eggs, butter, milk, or frosting that you must provide separately) each of the 12 cupcakes will cost you a couple of dollars (not including labor). With that price, why on earth wouldn't I just go to one of the gazillion cupcakes shops around town? I guess it's that underlying premise we talked about, but still, it seems wrong.

So with all this kvetching I was doing, you might wonder if I even had time to taste the final product. Well, I did. The vanilla bean cupcakes taste very good—much better than other boxed mixes. You can see small flecks of vanilla bean on the surface of each cupcake, and they have a strong, rounded vanilla flavor that is accented by a pleasant eggy-ness. I did take issue with the texture. Many of the cupcakes had air pockets—no doubt caused by my own inability to get the flour and butter mixed to the right consistency. But given that I baked them at what I thought was the correct "sandy texture" I can't help but think I won't be the only person with this problem.

Surface of the moon or inside of my cupcake?

Red Velvet Cupcakes:

No, red #3 isn't natural. It turns out these cupcakes are the black not all-natural sheep of the line.

In addition to the mix, the red velvet cupcakes require buttermilk, white vinegar, eggs, and vegetable oil. This violates another rule I have for mixes: every add-in should be stocked in my fridge or pantry. Buttermilk isn't something I normally have on hand, and I found myself running to the store when I finally read the directions on the back of the box. Also, because I didn't have any generic white vinegar (and didn't want to buy any), I ended up using the only white vinegar I had: an artisanal organic Sonoma champagne vinegar, and yes, I felt like an ass.

Still, this mix was much easier to put together than the vanilla bean mix, and the cupcakes baked up soft and without any holes. Here it was the taste that was the issue. Unlike the fragrant, flavorful vanilla bean cupcakes, these were too subtle. I had to eat an entire Jumbo muffin pan-sized cupcake to really get the chocolate taste.

Vanilla Butter Cream Frosting:

Ever wondered what $20 worth of store-bought frosting looked like?

Given that the whole point of this frosting is that it's all natural and doesn't contain hydrogenated oils, I was surprised by the greasy texture and film it left on my tongue. I was also expecting a more authentic vanilla flavor. The cupcakes seemed to genuinely derive flavor from vanilla beans, while this pretty much resembled any other vanilla frosting in a can. I don't necessarily mind that taste, but I do when it's costing me $20 a jar.

Verdict: A good boxed mix hits a balance between price, ease of assembly, and taste. I appreciate that Williams Sonoma is trying to go all-natural, but with the high price tag and complicated directions, I'd rather just buy an equally overpriced cupcake and call it a day.

About the author: Carrie Vasios is the editor of Serious Eats: Sweets. She likes to peruse her large collection of cookbooks while eating jam from the jar. You can follow her on Twitter @carrievasios

[Photographs: Carrie Vasios]

I'm fascinated by supermarkets. If I'm visiting a new city, I always try to stop in and see what's for sale. So when a friend spent a week in South Carolina, I asked him to bring me back the most interesting thing he could find at the local Fresh Market, a grocery store that's predominately in the South and Southeast.

He brought me this box of Maple Bacon Scone Mix. I'll admit I rolled my eyes (and somewhere my father rolled his eyes and told me not to look a gift horse in the mouth.) It's just that I am pretty much over the whole bacon-in-sweets trend, having never really been on board to begin with. (I'll keep my meat and sweets separate, thanks.)

From common courtesy if nothing else, I knew I had to make the mix. So I rolled up my sleeves and quieted my fears that these scones would be of the same ilk as the lame, confused, meaty-sweet treats that gave the bacon trend its death knell.

D.O.A-approved Bacon Bits

Like other boxed scone mixes, this one requires very little in the way of additions. You add one cup of heavy cream to the mix, and stir. This mix has one extra component: a sealed pouch of bacon bits. I was encouraged by the notice stamped on the package that I was to refrigerate the bits after opening, and discouraged by the number of ingredients listed after "bacon."

While the scones were in the oven, I got a serious craving for waffles. It took me 5 minutes too long to realize this was because the smell of maple syrup was wafting heavily from my oven. I took a peak at the scones, which were browning nicely, and got considerably more excited.

Don't forget to remind your guests that those raisins are bacon.

Given the maple I had smelled during baking, I was surprised to find that the flavor of bacon dominated the scone. It wasn't just when I got a bite of bacon bit, either—bacon was uniformly present throughout the entire pastry. A quick look at the ingredients for the powdered mix confirmed my suspicion. The mix includes those sneaky "natural flavors" which make it impossible to guess what's actually in anything these days.

Still, I kind of liked the flavor. It tasted more like pork than like Bacon Bits, with a notable roundness and heavy dose of smoke. The key to these scones success is that they are neither aggressively salty nor overly sweet. And what sweetness there is tastes of maple, not corn syrup, and it melds quite well with the smokey pork flavor. The texture is good as well: soft with only lightly crispy edges, not dry, cakey, or crumbly.

I surprised myself by thinking "I would eat this," and even, "I could split this in half and put a fried egg on top." I realized I wanted to add another nail to bacon-sweets' coffin—but I'll have to wait for another day.

Has anyone else tried this mix? What do you think of bacon in sweets?

About the author: Carrie Vasios is the editor of Serious Eats: Sweets. She likes to peruse her large collection of cookbooks while eating jam from the jar. You can follow her on Twitter @carrievasios

[Photographs: Carrie Vasios]

I used to baby sit. A lot. While most moms were more than happy to let me destroy their kitchen in the name of homemade, organic baked goods, some didn't have the requisite supplies (not even flour) and they didn't really want me to have to go out and buy them. To compensate, they'd give me a box or two of cake/cookie/muffin mix and a sixer of eggs.

That's why I was familiar with the Pillsbury Funfetti Cookies which we reviewed a few years ago. And why, when I saw that Pillsbury had one-upped themselves by introducing a Funfetti Cookie Pop Kit, I wanted to give them a go. You never know when life will throw you back on the old nanny circuit, and I'd like to be prepared.

These are exactly as they sound: Funfetti cookies on a stick. Well, almost. Unlike the original mix, these cookies don't contain sprinkles in the dough. The cookies are plain sugar cookies and the sprinkles are only added at the end, to be decoratively flung over the frosting. In my mind, this destroys the whole essence of Funfetti sweets, which is the joy of being able to say, "There are sprinkles...in my cake!"

But personal feelings aside, I tried to evaluate these as they would be seen by one of my charges. Thus, in the following critique, I will play the role of both adult and child.

Prep:

The first step is to make the cookie dough by combining the mix, an egg, and a stick of softened butter (they recommend microwaving the butter for 15 seconds.) My adult self did the smart thing—lightly beating the egg before adding in the mix. But with the butter only softened, and a whole lot of powdery mix, it took me a few minutes to get the dry dough to come together. By the end, child Carrie was getting a little impatient and adult Carrie was trying not to break a sweat. Finally, it was a uniform ball of cake batter-smelling dough. Younger Carrie wanted to try to the raw dough, and older Carrie let her.

The best part came next. You roll the dough into balls the size of heaping tablespoons, stick a popsicle stick into the center of each ball, lightly flatten them, and put them on a baking sheet. Young Carrie begged to try it herself. Adult Carrie sighed and said, "OK but try to make them the same size." Young Carrie made a few too big. Still, everyone was excited by the strange vision of baking popsicle sticks. Young Carrie: Won't they catch on fire? Adult Carrie: Of course not! (God I hope the answer is no.)

Baking:

While we wait for the cookies to bake, we cut open the package of frosting and take a bite. Older Carrie: These taste just like the vanilla frosting from Dunkaroos (which, ok, I horded as a child.) It's sugary with an aggressive vanilla scent. Younger Carrie: Dunka-whos?

Finally the cookies come out, golden brown and sticks intact. Cooling was a bit of an issue, not just because it is difficult to ask a er, child to wait to eat warm cookies, but because the popiscles are actually quite fragile. Lesson learned from broken pops: the cookies are heavy and need to be fully cooled before you move them.

Assembly:

The frosting comes in two bags. You squish it around (both Carries enjoyed this) then pipe it out over your cookie. This is difficult for a child with limited dexterity, and by the second row of cookies, I decided to cut the bag of frosting open and use a knife. The sprinkles also come in a separate little bag—as can be expected, pouring rainbow sprinkles over the tops of the cookies is fun yet messy. Adult Carrie hopes she charged the Dustbuster.

Taste:

From an adult perspective, the frosted cookies are, not surprisingly, way, way too sweet. The unfrosted cookies are saturated with artificial butter. And while I'll admit I enjoyed the taste for the first few bites (especially while warm) just one cookie quickly made me feel sick. Young Carrie could have eaten the whole tray, but would have also felt sick. Frosted, the cookies become almost cake-like. They're heavy and thick, with a competing vanilla-sugar-butter flavor. I'm sure kids will love them.

The biggest issue with these cookies pops is actually the fact that they're pops. It's kind of awkward to eat a monsterous frosted cookie off of a Popsicle stick. Younger Carrie got crumbs everywhere. Adult Carrie felt ridiculous nibbling her cookie like a rabbit.

Verdict?

I could be wrong, but I just don't think that kids are going to be as intrigued by the cookie pop idea as adults think they will be. It's a well-intentioned gimmick, but I've found that kids don't need fun new excuses to eat sugar. They don't like cupcakes for the same reasons that adults like cupcakes, and here the pop format seems more of a hindrance to their ultimate goal: scarfing down sugar. I like the added teamwork that forming the pops allows, but that's because I enjoy cooking with children. Even if working from a mix, I'd choose the original Funfetti cookies, and jazz them up with cookie cutter shapes.

About the author: Carrie Vasios is the editor of Serious Eats: Sweets. She likes to peruse her large collection of cookbooks while eating jam from the jar. You can follow her on Twitter @carrievasios

[Photographs: Carrie Vasios]

Lavender is something that I prefer to keep to my laundry rather than my food, with two notable exceptions: Eating in Provence, and Easter. Crate and Barrel clearly feels the same way because in addition to seasonal offerings like felt bunnies and egg shaped cake pans, they sell a lavender scone mix. It's not a new offering, but one that's worth revisiting in time for the holiday.

Standing in the store, I imagined the review in my head. "These scones taste like flowery soap, like my grandmother's eau de toilette, like something Ms. Havisham would have rotting on her table." I go to Crate and Barrel all the time (I have an addiction to tableware) but frankly a box of lavender scones from a home decoration store seemed like a bad idea.

At home, I saw that the mix is extremely straightforward. All it requires is mixing 3/4 to 1 cup of heavy cream (I used the latter) into the mix, rolling the dough into a circle, cutting out 6 wedges, and baking.

Early on I noticed that the mix didn't smell overly flowery. Also, the dough, when it came together, had the shaggy texture of actual scone dough. Both good signs.

The scones baked to a light golden color in just over 20 minutes. I let them cool and then immediately, if tentatively, dug in. The first thing I noticed was the taste of vanilla. The second, a glimmer of lavender. But both those tastes dissipated before I could even swallow, leaving me with the floury, plain scone dough taste similar to the taste of a Starbucks scone if you've had the misfortune of already eating off the icing.

Texturally, the scones were pretty good: Extremely moist and soft (and they stayed that way for three days in a Ziplock bag) if lacking the ideal flaky layers. In fact the pleasing texture allowed me to mindlessly munch my way through a plain scone, and then, more happily, through a scone spread with jam.

The truth is that I would take not-enough-flavor over soapy-lavender-flavor any day of the week. With a little butter or jam, these scones are passable and it wouldn't be the worst thing to serve them at brunch. I feel like their perfect destiny is as part of an Easter gift basket to an eager, if culinary challenged, hostess.

$7.95 at Crate and Barrel

[Photographs: Carrie Vasios]

One thing I've never understood: cummerbunds. Another thing I've never understood: pancake mix. As you can see, I thought I easily had my plate full with life's mysteries. Then during a routine purchase of one slotted spoon at Crate and Barrel, I spotted a canister of The Barefoot Contessa's French Crepe Mix, and everything unraveled again.

To understand my confusion, let's first review the ingredients in a basic French crepe: eggs, milk, water, flour, and butter. These ingredients are all what we call pantry staples. That means that if I were to use the ingredients I already had in my house, I could make crepes at any given moment. Crepes at 4 p.m. as a reward for only once googling "Puppy Steals Baguette"? Don't mind if I do. However if I want to employ a mix, at some point I will have to haul it to Crate and Barrel and make a purchase. Now I'm spending money ($2 for bus fare + $6.95 for mix + $11.95 for irresistible 20-ounce wine glass). Being out both time and money, it's only natural to assume that the mix will make crepes that are exponentially better than anything I could whip up on my own.

These were the thoughts that were going through my head as I stared at that canister of mix, haunted. People have explained cummerbunds to me, but by the time I get up the courage to ask it's always 3/4th of the way and twenty Champagne toasts through the wedding and I only pretend to understand the answer. If I bought that crepe mix, would I finally unlock the secret to not one, but two of life's mysteries? (Is crepe mix worth it and can I finally make a perfect, paper thin Parisian-style crepe?) I decided to give it a try.

The directions on the canister seemed easy: Preheat a 10-inch skillet over medium heat and brush with butter. In a bowl, whisk together two eggs, one cup of water, and two tablespoons melted butter. Whisk in dry mix.

I had to provide both eggs and butter, and I couldn't help but wonder why Ina couldn't figure out how to dehydrogenate all the ingredients so that all I had to do was add some water. I mean the woman worked on Nuclear Energy Policy for the White House, powdered eggs should be child's play. But the real problem, I soon learned, was in the last direction. "Pour 1/4 cup batter onto skillet and swirl to form an 8-inch circle," it says blithely. "Cook for about 1 minute on each side, until lightly browned."

Anyone who has ever attempted to make French crepes will know that herein lies the problem. How does one get either side lightly browned? By flipping the crepe halfway through cooking. How does one flip the crepe? SHE DOES NOT SAY.

My first few attempts at flipping were a mess. No combination of objects from spatulas to chopsticks allowed me to flip the entire crepe smoothly. The dough folded back on itself, turning into a yellow pile that resembled scrambled eggs. It was frustrating, not only because I could smell the buttery crepes but not eat them, but because as each batch went into the waste basket, I was aware that each new crepe cost that much more. Finally, I got a winner, and a real beauty she was.

Famished by my work, I ate half of the crepe immediately. Texturally, it was pretty spot on— slightly stretchy with tiny air bubbles and, most importantly, paper-thin with crisp edges and assorted brown spots. As for taste, I enjoyed it at first. It tasted just like the crepes I ate in Paris—buttery and rich, with a hint of sweetness. Yet after the first few bites, I was aware of a bizarre perfection and monotony in the taste. It might be more accurate to say that the crepe I made tasted the way crepe stands in Paris smell. The taste was so concentrated, so blow-out-your-taste-buds buttery that it didn't seem real. A few bites also proved it to be noticeably salty, which I was only able to quell by smothering the crepe in jam.

And that's how I got my answers. Yes, I can successfully produce a lovely, paper-thin crepe. No, crepe mix isn't worth it. Not when it costs less money to make crepes from scratch, and requires roughly the same amount of time. Not when I have to dirty the same amount of dishes. Not when the resulting crepes taste like something out of a Stepford kitchen. And especially not when I have to spend 20 minutes on YouTube, watching videos on how to flip a crepe.

16 ounces costs $6.95 and is available online or in stores.

About the author: Carrie Vasios is the editor of Serious Eats: Sweets. She likes to peruse her large collection of cookbooks while eating jam from the jar. You can follow her on Twitter @carrievasios

[Photographs: Robyn Lee]

Christina Tosi's ingenious desserts, like crack pie and cereal milk ice cream, have earned her fame and fortune, and have catapulted Momofuku Milk Bar to the top of the bakery It List (move over, Magnolia). So when we heard she was teaming up with Williams-Sonoma to create a line of cookie mixes based on Milk Bar's top sellers, we couldn't wait to try them. How would the boxed-mix versions compare to the real thing?

The Test

We compared the cookies from the mixes with the bakery versions from the East Village branch of Momofuku Milk Bar in a blind taste test. The cookies from the mix were baked the day of the test, following the package instructions exactly. Bakery versions were purchased the same day, and all cookies were roughly the same size.

Compost Cookies:

Mix on the left, bakery-bought on the right.

The compost cookie is like a chocolate chip cookie on steroids. A stoner's dream, it combines chocolate and butterscotch chips, potato chips, pretzels, and coffee grounds for a pretty awesome salty-sweet experience.

Bakery version ingredients: butter, unbleached wheat flour, sugar, brown sugar, chocolate chips, butterscotch chips, graham crumbs, pretzels, potato chips, glucose syrup, eggs, whole oats, cream milk powder, coffee grounds, salt, leavening.

Mix version ingredients: Graham cracker packet: graham cracker, sugar, nonfat dry milk, salt. Sugar packet: granulated sugar, light brown sugar, dextrose, natural vanilla flavor. Cookie mix packet: enriched wheat flour, salt, baking powder, sodium bicarbonate. Compost packet: chocolate chunks, butterscotch chips, natural and artificial flavor, artificial color, rolled oats, coffee.
At home, you have to add in: 9 tablespoons unsalted butter, 1 egg, 1 ounce potato chips, 1 ounce pretzels.

The Results:
This first cookie match was a bit of a toss-up. Tasters liked both versions, but the bakery cookies were bested ever so slightly by the cookies from the mix, which testers preferred citing good texture, richer coffee flavor, and crispy edges. Of the three mixes, this was the group favorite.
The Winner: The mix, but it was a close one.

Blueberry & Cream Cookies:

Mix on the left, bakery-bought on the right.

Inspired by the crumbly tops of blueberry muffins, these rich, chewy butter cookies are loaded with blueberries and white chocolate, plus Tosi's signature "milk crumbs."

Bakery version ingredients: unbleached wheat flour, butter, brown sugar, sugar, dried blueberries, glucose syrup, eggs, milk powder, white chocolate, cornstarch, salt, leavening.

Mix version ingredients: Milk powder packet: nonfat dry milk, enriched wheat flour, granulated sugar, cornstarch, salt. White chocolate packet: white chocolate, vanilla extract. Sugar packet: light brown sugar, granulated sugar, dextrose. Cookie mix packet: Enriched wheat flour, salt, baking powder, sodium bicarbonate. Blueberry packet: dried blueberries.
At home, you have to add in: 9 tablespoons unsalted butter, 1 egg.

The Results:
We've had some good experiences at Milk Bar, but even great bakeries have an off day sometimes. The bakery versions of this cookie were woefully underbaked and doughy-tasting. Maybe the ovens were finicky, or the timers were broken. Tasters liked the large chunks of white chocolate and distinct blueberry flavor in the bakery cookies, but unanimously preferred the cookies from the mix for texture and less "raw dough" flavor. Some found the mix flavor to be a bit too close to a blueberry energy bar for their liking, though.
The Winner: the mix.

We were so surprised at the barely-baked state of the bakery cookies that we went back again to try them a few days later. On try two, the cookies we ordered were a bit less underdone (and the blueberry even had slightly crisp edges), though still pretty raw in the center.

Corn Cookies:

Mix on the left, bakery-bought on the right.

A simple, understated cookie made with cornmeal and loads of butter, Milk Bar's corn cookie is an homage to cornflake cereal.

Bakery version ingredients: sugar, butter, unbleached wheat flour, corn powder, eggs, salt, leavening.

Mix version ingredients: sugar, flour, sweet corn, degermed yellow corn flour, salt, baking powder, sodium bicarbonate.
At home, you have to add in: 16 tablespoons unsalted butter, 1 egg.

The Results:
Again, the bakery cookies were underbaked—all were raw in the center. But tasters liked their distinctly "corny" flavor, which brought to mind a thick, moist, hunk of buttery cornbread with fresh kernels. The cookies from the mix were pretty different, tasting like top-quality sugar cookies: moist at the center, crisp at the edges, with a tender crumb and a pure buttery flavor. Unfortunately, they were lacking the nutty, sweet flavor of corn. Tasters enjoyed the mix, but felt like they weren't as unusual as the bakery cookies.
The Winner: Bakery-bought.

Conclusion and a Little Math

The brilliance of all of these cookies is in creativity required to come up with them. Who but Christina Tosi would think to add coffee grinds and potato chips to cookie dough, or come up with the idea for milk crumbs?

Even though we found some flaws with her new line of mixes, the cookies they yield are still far more delicious than any you would get from a supermarket cookie mix. If you don't live in New York and want to get a glimpse of what all the Milk Bar hype is about, it would be worth it to stop by Williams-Sonoma and pick up the Compost Cookie mix (our top pick).

But better yet, roll up those sleeves and bake some of Christina Tosi's recipes from scratch. Consider the cost: this Blueberry & Cream Cookies recipe yields 35 cookies for $19.61, about 56 cents a cookie. It'll cost $16 for the mix plus $1.38 in additional ingredients to make 9 cookies, about $1.93 per cookie. (If you ordered the baked cookies online, you pay $2 per cookie. At the bakery, you can get a dozen for $20, so they come out to $1.66.)* The Corn Cookie recipe comes out to $12.96 for 13 cookies—so each cookie is 99 cents, compared with $1.52 per cookie for the mix. The Compost Cookie recipe comes to $15.85 for 15 to 20 cookies, so each one costs between 79 cents and $1.06, compared with $2.04 a cookie for the mix. In every case, following the recipe from scratch is cheapest.

Added bonus? You get to take all the credit for making them yourself.

*Cookie costs for making at home according to the recipes were calculated based on the average online cost of basic pantry ingredients prorated for the volume called for in the recipe. For specialty items that you might not have at home, like milk powder, potato chips, or dried blueberries, we added the entire cost of the smallest package available online.

Chocolate and peppermint are a classic holiday flavor combination, and what could be more indulgent than rich, fudgy brownies topped with a layer of white chocolate peppermint bark?

But as festive as the Stonewall Kitchen Peppermint Bark Brownie Mix was, at $15.95 it also seemed exorbitantly expensive. The box contained a package of brownie mix, a pouch of white chocolate chips, and a little bag of crushed red and white peppermint candy. Could it really be worth the cost?

At that price point, I would expect dense, intensely chocolaty gourmet-quality brownies topped with a firm, smooth layer of white chocolate bark loaded with fresh, snappy peppermint flavor.

To prepare the base layer, I combined the brownie mix with two eggs and seven tablespoons of melted butter. I liked that the batter was a bit chunky. There were little pieces of chocolate chips in it, which always make for more decadent brownies—the chips melt at the brownies bake, leaving little pools of molten chocolate.

To finish the brownies after baking, I melted the white chocolate and smoothed it over the top surface. Next, I sprinkled on the peppermint candy and put the whole pan in the fridge to set up.

Cutting the brownies was a bit of a challenge. When I sliced through the peppermint bark it had a tendency to split, shatter, and break away from the brownie base. About half of my finished brownies lost a portion of their bark. The results looked more than a little haphazard.

But despite their somewhat raggedy appearance, the brownies tasted quite delicious. The base was rich and thick, sturdy enough to stand up to the bark. The peppermint was fresh and zingy, and nicely balanced with the chocolate. This mix would make a lovely gift, but in the end, it's hard to justify the price tag. Instead, I would recommend topping your favorite (cheaper) brownie mix with white chocolate and crushed candy canes.

About the Author: Lucy Baker is a food writer and the author of The Boozy Baker: 75 Recipes for Spirited Sweets. She is currently at work on a second book about homemade food gifts. She lives in Brooklyn with her husband and dachshund.

[Photographs: Robyn Lee]

The Winners!

#1: Trader Joe's #2: Betty Crocker #3: Krusteaz

Rolled out and cut into Christmas trees, snowflakes, and stars, sugar cookies can be a festive and delicious holiday treat. (Not to mention Santa's favorite midnight snack.) But with so much shopping to do, so many parties to attend, and a million gifts to wrap, there are times when you understandably don't want to make your cookies from scratch.

There are a number of quick and simple sugar cookie baking mixes on the market. But which one is best? Are any even worth using? We conducted a blind taste test to find out which mix yielded cookies worthy of Jolly Old Saint Nick.

The Contenders

We included five sugar cookie mixes that are available in most supermarkets nationwide. We didn't include any gourmet or specialty mixes, such as those from Crate & Barrel or Williams-Sonoma.

1. Krusteaz (website)
2. Pillsbury (website)
3. Trader Joe's
4. Canterbury Naturals (website)
5. Betty Crocker (website)

The Criteria

A good sugar cookie should taste first and foremost of butter and sugar, with an additional hint of vanilla. Texture-wise, it should have crisp edges and a slightly chewy, moist interior. Sugar cookies shouldn't be completely crunchy and crumbly, like shortbread, but they also shouldn't be totally soft. They shouldn't have any off flavors, like too much vanilla or an artificial "cake mix" taste.

The Results

A sugar cookie is often a blank canvas, waiting to be slicked with frosting, dusted with sprinkles, or dunked in a mug of hot chocolate. On its own, a naked sugar cookie (even the world's best) probably isn't going to bowl you over with flavor. Our tasters were more concerned with artificial flavors, weird aftertastes, and textural issues than with finding a cookie that would totally knock their socks off. Cookies were marked down for tasting like fake vanilla, for tasting like crackers, and for being tough or too hard even in the middle. While some tasters preferred softer cookies, most liked ones that had more of a toothsome crunch at the edges. Several noted that these crunchier cookies reminded them of ones they'd had in childhood.

With the exception of the Trader Joe's mix, all of the mixes offered primary instructions for making drop cookies and alternate instructions for making cut out cookies. These instructions called for adding additional flour—anywhere from one to four tablespoons. While necessary for making a firm, easy-to-roll dough, this added flour was also no doubt the reason some of the cookies were marked down for tasting bland or for being dry, tough, or "leathery."*

None of the five mixes we tested scored exceptionally well, but none were truly awful either. Four of the mixes scored very close together (with one lagging a full point behind). Depending on whether you prefer soft cookies, crunchy cookies, an assertive butter taste, or a milder flavor, you would do well with any of the top four.

* Two of the mixes, Trader Joe's and Canterbury Naturals, included packets of icing. Since the other mixes did not have icing, we left it off and evaluated all the cookies plain.

The Winner: Trader Joe's (5.71/10)

Tasters liked the light texture, and toasty butter and vanilla flavor of the Trader Joe's cookies. Several noted that the cookies tasted like biscuits, animal crackers, or graham crackers. We appreciated that these weren't overly sweet.

2. Betty Crocker (5.57/10)

"These have the best balance of crisp to chewy," noted one taster. Betty Crocker's cookies had a familiar, nostalgic taste that was sweet with lots of butter flavor and hints of almond. This is the best choice for those who prefer sugar cookies with a softer, chewier texture.

3. Krusteaz (5.42/10)

Tasters found these cookies crisp and crumbly, with a decent (if a little bland) buttery flavor. While one taster found these cookies "delicious," others thought they were just a bit too crunchy and hard when baked according to package directions.

4. Canterbury Naturals (5.28/10)

These cookies tasted a little bit like cornbread—in a good way. We liked their light vanilla flavor, and the fact that they seemed to have more butter than sugar. More than one taster noted that these cookies were very crumbly and a little tough.

5. Pillsbury (4.28/10)

Almost every taster in the group criticized these cookies for a faux-vanilla flavor. While some tasters liked the soft, chewy texture of these cookies, the general consensus was that the flavor was too artificial.

Make Them From Scratch!

Sugar Cookies with Royal Icing »

People tend to give me a lot of baking mixes because I write this column. When they see a mix, they think of me. Every year on my birthday and for the holidays, I can count on getting at least one—for pancakes, cookies, cupcakes, and once even for huevos rancheros. Some I use immediately, while others languish on the shelf. It got me thinking: what makes a mix good for giving?

First and foremost, a giftable mix should contain only top-quality ingredients. While it should be easier to prepare than making the recipe from scratch, it should taste homemade; not chemical or artificial.

Second, the mix should be unique. White chocolate brownies, bacon ranch dressing, and salted caramel gelato are all good choices. Regular chocolate brownies, chocolate chip cookies, or plain pancakes...not so much.

Finally, the mix should come in an attractive package. It doesn't have to be fancy, but a thick cardboard box or glass jar is definitely preferable to a paper or plastic sack.

This week I tested out Crate & Barrel's Santa's Elves Cookie Mix ($11.95). At first glance, it fit the bill: it was made from gourmet ingredients, the inclusion of coconut and Cornflakes made it unique, and it came in a festive mason jar tied with a bright green ribbon. But would the taste be gift worthy?

Preparing the mix was relatively simple: I beat together 12 tablespoons of softened butter, an egg, and 1/4 teaspoon of vanilla, and then I stirred in the contents of the jar. The instructions said to add a few tablespoons of water if the mix seemed dry. I added only one tablespoon and my mix was the perfect cookie dough consistency. After 10 minutes in a 350° oven, my cookies emerged with lacy, thin edges and soft middles studded with chocolate.

Flavor-wise, these cookies were indistinguishable from homemade. The flavor was first and foremost of oats, brown sugar, and chocolate. I could detect a hint of coconut, but only because I knew it was there—I would have preferred a little bit more. The texture of the cookies was crunchy yet tender, and the Cornflakes provided an extra crackly, crispy component that reminded me of a whimsical Christina Tosi creation.

While the price is a bit steep for me to recommend this mix wholeheartedly, it certainly was delicious, and would make a lovely gift for the cookie-baker in your life.

About the Author: Lucy Baker is a food writer and the author of The Boozy Baker: 75 Recipes for Spirited Sweets. She is currently at work on a second book about homemade food gifts. She lives in Brooklyn with her husband and dachshund.

Chocolate mousse is a deceptively heavy dessert. It tastes all fluffy and light, but in reality it is laden with cream, butter, and eggs. For this reason, I save it for special occasions. But Jell-O recently introduced Temptations Chocolate Mousse Decadence Mix with only 110 calories per serving. I was curious—could it satisfy my craving for a creamy, airy, chocolaty dessert?

I had a roommate once who loved Jell-O pudding cups, and would eat one every night after dinner. I never understood it. Sure, they were low-cal, but there was just something so dreary about eating dessert out of a minuscule, pre-packaged plastic cup. It wasn't until Jell-O released a mousse mix I could whip up myself (with fresh milk, in my own kitchen) that I was tempted to try it.

The Chocolate Mousse Decadence Mix contains two packets. The first is for the base layer of dark chocolate pudding, and the second is for the milk chocolate mousse topping. To prepare the pudding all I had to do was whisk the mix with two cups of cold 2% milk, exactly as you would prepare a packet of instant pudding. It did that same, magical thickening thing, and within two minutes it had morphed from chocolate milk to a thick, creamy substance the consistency of yogurt.

To prepare the mousse topping, I combined the mix with one more cup of cold 2% milk and beat it with an electric mixer for four minutes (per the package instructions, but you could really get away with only two or three minutes). It fluffed up nicely, and was about the same texture as Cool Whip.

I must say, this was one of the best-looking desserts to ever come out of a Jell-O box. The dark, creamy pudding was buried beneath a cloud of feathery mousse. In the glass it seemed elegant and decadent—not one, but two kinds of chocolate. Flavor-wise, I preferred the mousse to the pudding. It was smooth and fresh tasting, with a nice milk chocolate flavor and not too much sweetness. The dark chocolate pudding wasn't bad by any means, but it didn't taste any different (or more indulgent) than regular instant chocolate pudding.

The trick was to get both in one spoonful; it was sort of like taking a bite of chocolate cream pie. For 110 calories (oh, all right, I'll be honest—it was 220, because I made four desserts instead of eight) I thought this mix was quite good. It's definitely something I would make again when I'm watching my waistline but still want dessert.

About the Author: Lucy Baker is a food writer and the author of The Boozy Baker: 75 Recipes for Spirited Sweets. She is currently at work on a second book about homemade food gifts. She lives in Brooklyn with her husband and dachshund.

The best Thanksgiving bread baskets are a mélange of flavors and textures: tender Parker House rolls, crumbly cornbread, cakey pumpkin bread, and flaky biscuits. But who has time to bake all that in addition to making the turkey, sides, and pies? Fortunately, there are a number of top-notch baking mixes out there that would be a welcome addition to any holiday feast.

Trader Joe's makes an excellent cornbread mix. And King Arthur Flour was our top pick in last year's gingerbread taste test. But what about sweet potato biscuits? In 2009, I reviewed Paula Deen's mix and found them to be overwhelmingly sugary, with no trace of earthy sweet potato flavor. Would Williams-Sonoma's mix ($10.95) fare better?

To prepare the biscuits, I cut six tablespoons of cold butter into the mix and then stirred in one cup of buttermilk. Next, I dumped the dough, which was incredibly shaggy and sticky, onto a floured work surface and kneaded it a few times until it began to come together. (I had to flour my hands a lot to keep them from sticking.) Finally, I cut the dough into rounds using a biscuit cutter and brushed their tops with melted butter. From start to finish, the biscuits took me about 10 minutes to prepare.

After 13 minutes in a 400°F oven, the biscuits were puffed and golden brown on the bottoms. They smelled like a delicious combination of brown sugar, vanilla, and cinnamon. What I liked best about these biscuits was their perfectly balanced sweet-savory flavor—the sweet potato was complemented by hints of oats and salt.

The biscuits also had great texture, with a tender, soft interior and a sturdy, almost crunchy exterior. My only caveat was that I would have liked them to be a bit thicker (the better for splitting and filling with leftovers!). Ultimately, this is a quick and tasty mix that would be a fitting addition to any holiday meal.

About the Author: Lucy Baker is a food writer and the author of The Boozy Baker: 75 Recipes for Spirited Sweets. She is currently at work on a second book about homemade food gifts. She lives in Brooklyn with her husband and dachshund.

I'm a sucker for granola bars that taste more like candy than anything healthy. You know the type—loaded with peanut butter and chocolate chips. So I was enticed by the notion of a granola cookie bar, described on the box as "part rich, chewy granola bar, part fresh-baked oatmeal cookie."

Fall desserts tend to be pie-centric. And while I love pie, it's not exactly portable or finger-friendly. These bars seemed like a great, no-fuss alternative. Plus, they were loaded with all the classic autumn flavors—pear, apple, and cranberry. My only concern was that, at $14.95, the mix was pretty expensive.

Preparing the bars was exceedingly simple. All I had to do was combine the contents of the mix with one egg and six tablespoons of melted butter. Then I pressed the mixture into a 8-inch square pan and baked it for 25 minutes. It was still pretty soft when I took the pan out of the oven, but it firmed up as it cooled and the top became nice and crisp.

What I liked best about these bars was their addictive brown sugar flavor. Each one was loaded with crunchy almond slivers, and I tasted clear hints of vanilla and maple. They reminded me of something you might find at a farmstand after apple picking. What I found a little lacking was the dried fruit. It was a bit sparse, and while I tasted the cranberries, the apples and pears were lost. Texture-wise, the bars were somewhat dense and heavy—they're much more like granola bars than cookies. That's not necessarily a bad thing. They would be great with yogurt for breakfast.

While I ultimately thought the price a was little too high for the product, this is a solid, natural-tasting mix that could be worth the splurge if you're a lover of all things granola.

About the Author: Lucy Baker is a food writer and the author of The Boozy Baker: 75 Recipes for Spirited Sweets. She is currently at work on a second book about homemade food gifts. She lives in Brooklyn with her husband and dachshund.