Fooled Again By The Splenda-Maltitol Bait And Switch On Sugar-Free Candy

Sugar-Free Mentos snags another victim of dubious side effects

There oughta be a big bold WARNING label placed on any sugar-free product that purports to be "sweetened with Splenda" if sucralose is not the top sweetener. You know what I'm talking about--while the Splenda logo appears prominently on the front of the packaging of many low-carb, sugar-free products, the truth is there's something else making that product sweet.

That something else is sugar alcohols usually, most notably and notoriously the one called maltitol. Just as sugar-free doesn't mean the product is necessarily low-carb, neither does having the Splenda emblem on the packaging mean it is the primary sweetener. In fact, many times it comes in dead last in the ingredients.

If this is happening, then why does maltitol show up as the #1 ingredient, hmmm? Sounds like a bait and switch scam to me! I've warned about the negative impact this sugar alcohol can have on your stomach many times and even had this humorous story from a reader named Fred Scuttle who found out the hard way what the sugar alcohol maltitol can do to you.

Now I've got another horror story to share with you from Sarah who thought she would get away with downing some Sugar-Free Mentos without a hitch. HA!

Here's what happened to her:

My experience with maltitol happened just today at my restaurant job.

I bought some Sugar-Free Mentos just the other day and was relieved to see the Splenda emblem proudly displayed on the package...I have had problems with other artificial sweeteners, so I thought I was safe.

Wrong!

So, while I was busy serving food on a busy lunch shift, I snacked on the box of candy. Mind you, this was a small package---maybe 15 pieces or so.

Well, an hour into my shift, my stomach started to do that dreaded gurgle and roll and I knew immediately I was in trouble.

I literally had to run to the bathroom, lest I "sharted" in my pants. It was totally awful. It felt disgusting having explosive diarrhea while serving food to customers and the gas and bloating were so terrible I had to go to the bathroom to undo my pants.

Upon closer inspection of the box, in all capital letters I noticed (too late), this disclaimer: EXCESSIVE CONSUMPTION MAY CAUSE A LAXATIVE EFFECT!

That's nice. Glad to know that candy now has the ability to make me shit my pants."

Some lessons can only be learned through experience. This will certainly make Sarah read food labels carefully from now on, don't ya think?

By the way, that's the first and last time you'll ever see the word "sharted" at my blog. TMI and EWWWW!

Fred Said Maltitol Made Nature Call

Need some comic relief on this mid-September day? Then allow me to introduce you to a very funny and talented writer named Fred Scuttle who has a promising new blog that was birthed on Wednesday called (get this!) Low-Carb/Blow-Carb!

Now some may look at that blog name and think Mr. Scuttle is an opponent of low-carb. But it seems he's actually learning a few of the lessons that come with this lifestyle change--the HARD way!

He read my recent review of a new maltitol-free product available from the online low-carb retailer LO-CARB U called Lean-Up Chocolate Bars that was reposted on CommonVoice.com and decided to comment with his and his wife's own experience eating the dastardly sugar alcohol known as maltitol.

Like so many people new to livin' la vida low-carb, Scuttle neglected to read the fine print on a package of maltitol-sweetened chocolates he purchased that warned about overconsumption and the possible side effects of doing so. I'm gonna let him tell you the story about what happened next because his vivid and descriptive play-by-play recollection is one for the ages. ENJOY!

See if this sounds familiar to anyone...

"Hoo Boy! That explains it! I bought some great low-carb chocolate from Trader Joe's and noted that the whole bar supposedly contained 2 net carbs. Naturally, my wife and I daintily took one little piece each and congratulated ourselves on our restraint, and nibbled a tiny bit off a corner while making little bunny-like nose-squinchy giggles and shrugs at our naughtiness.

The next thing I knew the chocolate bar was gone in a brownish blur, there were pieces of wrapper in our teeth and strewn about the floor and our faces and furniture were smeared with grubby chocolatey finger-smudges. Ah, how we giggled yet again at our own weakness and utter humanity, and promised to make the next one last a little longer than 1.3 seconds.

Skip to three hours later. The rock-shivering cacaphony reverberating in our living room can best be described as sounding like an orchestral tuba section warming up, a dirigible rupturing and the earthy bla-a-atting tones of a fleet of diesel semis throwing on the 'jake brakes' on a long downhill stretch, with the odd bassoon glissando thrown in to provide color, and flutey, schoolgirl-ish 'skirt-lifter' flourishes blupping periodically from my soulmate.

I have never had gas so bad in my life. Not even close, and in my family 'pull my finger' is considered a cooing utterance of affection, followed by the inevitable sound of a watermelon breaking in half.

The cramps alone were excruciating, much less the sore stomach muscles from simultaneously moaning in pain and laughing (which caused an odd 'putt-putt' style nether-zephyr to emerge in staccato trumpet-blasts from our hindquarters, eliciting further torture to our already weakened respiratory systems). We were on all fours, barking from both ends. Not a pretty sight.

Or smell. You'll just have to imagine that, for words can only fail to deliver an account of such a horrendous assault on the olfactory organs, save to those who work in sewage treatment facilities or overcrowded South American prisons. If you need a prompt for a realistic simulation to catalog in your own mental flatulence-file, hold a teenager's wet sneaker up to one nostril and a freshly-opened bag of pork rinds to the other in a kitchen where cabbage is being overcooked. Then you might BEGIN to suggest a vague guess as to the essence.

Until I read this review and understood the magical hurricane-producing properties of maltitol on the digestive system, I had no idea why we had spontaneously erupted like a wind section in a John Cage score. We thought we had somehow insulted the Aztec gods of the bean harvest or something. Now that we know, we will avoid the detestable sugar-fraud in favor of something kinder to our poor abused starfish and easier on our laundry bill."

ROTFL!!! This Fred Scuttle guy is a trip, I'm telling you. If future posts on his new blog are anything like this one, then he's gonna be one to check out early and often. I don't have an e-mail address for him yet, but you can post an encouraging comment for Fred Scuttle at his first blog post. Send the love of "Livin' La Vida Low-Carb" his way!

By the way, Fred, you'll be happy to know that there are a whole host of new low-carb chocolate products coming down the line in the coming months that do NOT contain maltitol in them, but rather the much more acceptable erithrytol, oligofructose, and other "better" sweeteners. I will be reviewing them here soon.

So, stay tuned! No more potty talk for you! :D