The new food bogeyman

I am not afraid of Trans Fat Man.

You know him. He's the latest bad guy to lurk amid the crackers and the cookies on grocery store shelves. And he has America eating scared.

Not me. But then, I wasn't afraid of Carbs when we banished them in favor of Protein (seen that copy of "Dr. Atkins' " lately?) or Sugar when we shunned him for Saccharin, then Aspartame, then Sucralose (what's next?).

Unlike Carbs and Sugar, which withstood our dietary whims, Trans Fat Man is not long for our fickle, food-obsessed world. He was unmasked a couple of years ago, forced to make himself known on all nutrition labels.

Wasn't this scoundrel supposed to be a hero, back when Butter, aka animal fat, was our enemy and Margarine came to the rescue? Now we know Trans Fat Man, a blackhearted man-made fat, a partially hydrogenated plant oil, is worse than his evil cousin, Saturated Fat Man. While both fit snugly in their Lycra pantsuits and wreak havoc on our hearts, raising our risks for heart disease, only Trans Fat Man also destroys our good cholesterol.

Unmasking was not fate enough for this villain. He must be banished. By summer's end, he will no longer be joining us for dinner at New York City restaurants. He has been outlawed in Philadelphia and San Francisco. Can Carrboro be far behind? Weaver Street Market already has barred its doors -- nary a trans fat laden cookie nor a tub of margarine can be found in its aisles. Makers of Crisco, Oreos, Dunkin' Donuts, Doritos and, as of January, Krispy Kreme doughnuts have exorcised Trans Fat Man as well.

I understand the evils of Trans Fat Man. And some foods, like Doritos and Lay's potato chips, taste no different in their new incarnations, at least not to me. But this war against Trans Fat Man has made collateral damage of my original Oreos and may have wrecked my favorite homemade cookie.

This time we've gone too far.

Oreos are the quintessential childhood treat. We have all starred in our own Oreo commercial, studiously dunking those crispy black-and-white sandwiches into glasses of cold milk while that catchy theme song plays in our heads. I loved trying to see just how long I could submerge the Oreo without losing it to the bottom of the glass -- 10, 15, even 20 seconds. I marveled at how good those Oreos tasted sopped in milk. You could still feel the cookie crumb in your mouth, even when they were soaked through. It was like magic.

But during a recent Oreo tasting with my co-workers, we bemoaned the milk-dipped consistency of the trans-fat-free version. These reformulated Oreos turn to mush after 10 seconds in milk. Even without the milk, they have less crunch, a duller taste on the palate. They seem less addictive. I cannot prove that the shelf-life-extending capabilities of trans fats made those Oreos better milk companions. But I have my suspicions.

And while the war on Trans Fat Man ripped away a taste of my childhood, it has also destroyed my hopes for the future. I had my sights set on one day making Lady Locks. Using a recipe that calls for a pound of Crisco, aunts and grandmothers in my hometown of Pittsburgh carefully wind thin strips of pastry dough around aluminum-foil-wrapped wooden clothespins, deftly removing the baked pastry and filling the interior with a light vanilla cream. Airy and sublime, Lady Locks are hours in the making. They appear almost exclusively at weddings in Pittsburgh and are so delectable that I have seen best men devote their toasts to saluting the Lady Locks bakers, briefly acknowledging the bride and groom.