Look, I’m not saying I’m a wizard, but I did just turn a can of coconut cream and some dusty protein powder into something that looks—and tastes—dangerously close to a Snickers bar. If you’re like me, you probably spent years thinking "vegan ice cream" was just code for "flavored ice cubes and sadness." But these Vegan Snickers Ice Cream Bars? They’re the real deal. They’re chewy, salty, and so rich they’ll make you forget you ever cared about dairy.
The "Health Nut" Identity Crisis
Let’s talk about that base for a second. We’re blending up coconut heavy cream (the good stuff in the purple can), cashews for that buttery fat, and protein powder because... well, balance, right? I used to be the person who thought "protein" only came in giant tubs used by guys who scream at mirrors in the gym. But then I realized that adding it to dessert is basically a legal loophole. If it has protein powder, it’s a meal. That’s just science. I call it "Strategic Snacking."
I actually had a bit of a disaster the first time I tried a version of this. I thought I could swap the Medjool dates for regular raisins because "a dried fruit is a dried fruit," right? Narrator: It was not. I ended up with a blender that sounded like it was trying to chew on gravel and a base that tasted like a confused fruitcake. Pro tip: stick to the Medjool dates. They’re basically nature’s caramel. When you blend them with peanut butter and a pinch of salt, your taste buds will start doing a little victory dance.
The Waiting Game (AKA My Personal Hell)
Once you pour that creamy, nutty base into your parchment-lined pan, the real test of character begins. The recipe says "freeze overnight." I don’t know about you, but "overnight" is a very long time when you know there is a tray of potential joy sitting three feet away from your bed.
I’ll admit it: I once woke up at 3:00 AM, crept into the kitchen like a raccoon, and tried to "test" the consistency with a spoon. It was still a semi-liquid slush. I ended up eating a bowl of cold peanut-goop in the dark, regretting my life choices. Learn from my lack of discipline—let it freeze. It needs that solid structure to support the caramel layer.
Speaking of the caramel, it’s just peanut butter, maple syrup, and a splash of almond milk. It’s so simple it feels like cheating. You spread that over the frozen base, pop it back in for an hour, and then—the grand finale—the chocolate dunk.
The Art of the Chocolate Dunk
Cutting these into bars is the most satisfying part. You’ve got these neat little rectangles that you then submerge in melted dark chocolate. I like to think of it as giving them a little spa treatment. If you’re feeling fancy, sprinkle some flaky sea salt on top while the chocolate is still wet. It makes them look like they cost $9 at a boutique grocery store where they play indie folk music.
The best thing about these? They live in your freezer. They’re there for you after a long day of pretending to be a functional adult. They don’t judge you. They just offer you a crunchy, chocolatey embrace. Plus, since they’re vegan, you can tell yourself you’re basically eating a salad. A very, very processed, frozen, chocolate-covered salad.
