When I feel embarrassed or out of place, I think of the scotcheroo.
The scotcheroo was an essential part of my Iowa upbringing—the concession-stand reward at every basketball game or band competition. Its charms were obvious, if unsophisticated. Who could quibble with a chewy, peanut-butter-y Rice Krispies bar bound with corn syrup1 and topped with a 1:1 blend of melted butterscotch and semi-sweet chocolate chips?
The scotcheroo had a name to match its topping, so sweet it hurt my teeth. I liked it, anyway. The durability of both name and dessert seemed like a testament to quiet Midwestern confidence—filtered, possibly, through a Transatlantic accent. Give ‘em the butterscotch bar, the chocolate crisper, the ol’ scotcheroo. Griping about cuteness was self-conscious, I told myself—the worst kind of conscious.
Turns out, not everyone shared that sentiment.
“Is there any more unnerving word, really, than Scotcheroo?” wrote James Lileks in a 2001 column in the Minneapolis Star Tribune. “I have a vision of a gigantic marsupial in a kilt, bounding around Edinburgh with a wee plaid-claid young one tucked in its pouch.” A 2000 headline in the same paper was more direct: “Scotcheroo? (Gesundheit!)”.
Even Casey’s—the bodega of the Midwest—flinched from the name. You can buy “Peanut Butter Crispy Bites” at every Casey’s, but they’re not fooling anyone. You can’t take the scotch out of a roo.2
I blame at least some of the brand confusion on an interregional rivalry. Minnesotans have their own version of the scotcheroo: the “Special K Bar,” alike in every way but name and cereal. Consider it the Pepsi to the scotcheroo’s co*ke. Sure, “Special K bars” have an edge in Minnesota (according to Google trends), but “scotcheroos” dominate everywhere else—especially in Iowa and Wisconsin. Plus, Kellogg’s no longer publishes a recipe for Special K bars on its website; it does feature a recipe for scotcheroos.
I would never tell my Minnesota brethren to stop making their own delicious variant. But we must face facts: The Krispies won.
I’m not sure who gets to take the victory lap. It’s hard to trace the scotcheroo to a single point of origin; it’s harder still to argue that that point is in the Midwest. The first scotcheroo recipe I could find was in a 1964 Nestlé newspaper ad that ran across the country—not just in Iowa, but in New York, Delaware, and Montana. The corn syrup traveled fast: Less than two weeks later, “chocolate scotcheroos” began showing up on school cafeteria menus.
But that doesn’t mean the scotcheroo isn’t Midwestern. Regional cuisines aren’t defined by what they invent, but by what they preserve. And it’s no accident that the scotcheroo found a welcome home here. Its ancestor, the Rice Krispie treat, was invented by an Iowan working out of Kellogg’s former headquarters in Michigan.
Food writers (including me) love to point out that some of America’s most iconic dishes were invented by “brands.” But that’s a metonym that undersells the home economists who actually developed the recipes, all of whom were drawing from their own communities and cultures. No recipe springs into being in a contained corporate vacuum. It’s possible for a dish to be both a product of advertising and an authentic reflection of a region’s culinary point of view.
In keeping with that sentiment, the scotcheroo recipe I landed on for this piece—after multiple batches and blind taste-tests in which I attempted to swap out nearly every ingredient for something less commodified—looks nearly identical to the one that ran in the 1964 Nestlé ad.
I suppose I should feel humbled, but I actually feel affirmed. As a lifelong Midwesterner, I take comfort in the idea that I, like the scotcheroo, know my place.
The scotcheroo doesn’t need to be “elevated.” It’s on the right plane already. Nor does it need a rebrand. The name promises what it delivers.
We said what we said. We got it right the first time.
Scotcheroos
Makes 1 9x13-inch pan, serving 20-25
Prep time: 10 minutes
Cook and rest time: 1 hour, 10 minutes
Total time: 1 hour, 20 minutes
For easy cleanup, lightly grease your cup measure before scooping in the peanut butter. Feel free to substitute any other nut butter for the peanut butter, but do not leave it out. The bars will be too brittle and dense.
Corn syrup similarly plays an important role in the scotcheroo’s sticky-chewy texture and should not be substituted. You can use dark corn syrup in place of light, but the scotcheroos will have a lighter vanilla note and a dominant molasses one. For a more subtle flavor, I recommend ¼ cup dark, ¾ cup light.
The only fussy step in this recipe is ensuring you don’t overcook the corn syrup mixture. But if you do, and your bars come out too hard, don’t panic—and don’t toss them. Just 10 seconds in the microwave will return your ‘roo to a pliant and delicious state.
Ingredients
1 cup (320g) light corn syrup, such as Karo
1 cup (220g) granulated sugar
1 tsp. (5g) vanilla extract
1 cup (270g) creamy peanut butter
6 cups (160g) crispy rice cereal, such as Rice Krispies
¾ cup (150g) semi-sweet chocolate chips
¾ (150g) butterscotch chips
Maldon or other flaky finishing salt
Preparation
Combine corn syrup, sugar, and vanilla extract in a Dutch oven or stockpot. Cook over medium-high heat, stirring constantly, until the mixture just begins to boil around the edges, 1-3 minutes. (Be careful not to overcook it!) Immediately turn off heat and stir in peanut butter until it is fully incorporated and the mixture is smooth. Stir in cereal, then spoon into a greased 9x13 pan and pat mixture gently (!) into place with a spatula.
In a microwave-safe bowl, combine semi-sweet and butterscotch chips. Microwave in 30-second intervals, stirring after each interval, until mixture is glossy and smooth. Pour over the top of the scotcheroos, then use a spatula to even out the topping. Sprinkle Maldon or another large, flaky salt liberally over the top. Let cool at least one hour before cutting and serving.
Stored in an airtight container, scotcheroos will keep for one week at room temperature and up to two months in the freezer.
Liz Cook is a Kansas City-based food writer whose work has appeared in the BBC, The Pitch, Bon Appétit, Eater, and Defector, among other outlets. She also writes the experimental food newsletter Haterade.
1
Iowa’s official state motto is “our liberties we prize and our rights we will maintain.” Its unofficial state motto is “if you build it, they will come,” where “they” is the corn lobby.
2
I initially thought this might be due to a trademark issue, but I can’t find any evidence in the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office’s online database that “scotcheroo” was ever registered. Casey’s: Don’t run from your ‘roots.
