"McDonalds' McRib and its cult-like following are back. Thank goodness the "disconcerting" sandwich is only returning for a limited time only, says Meredith Melnick at TIME. Because if you knew about all the unpronounceable ingredients packed into the McRib, you might think twice about wolfing down the sauce-drenched pork concoction. Think you can stomach what's inside? "
Get the gory details Via The Week
( Photo: CC BY: Calgary Reviews )
This popped up via HuffPost, sourced from The Daily Meal, a busy food website that appears well-infused with capital, and while I scanned it, I just kept thinking that the healthiest way to raise kids is NEVER to take them to a fast food joint. Never get them hooked on sugary drinks. Never let them imagine that fries are a daily veg. Never have them confuse sales promotion with value. And so on.
Is this impossible in the 21st century? Anyone?
And the winner is? Subway, which does, I see, have a 9 grain bread offering. Not that I have ever run into anyone eating the 9 grain bread version of anything Subway. I don't go there, but my dry cleaners and my former video store were next door to Subway--the odd combo odors of vinegar and poorish quality salami permeated them both. People emerged from the place chomping down on a load of carb.
And processed meats, sooooo good for you, all that sodium nitrite.
(Tks to Toms River Mom for pic.)
From npr:
"In an essay published last November in Canada's Maisonneuve journal, physician Kevin Patterson described his experiences working as an internist-intensivist at the Canadian Combat Surgical Hospital in Kandahar, Afghanistan.
One detail he noticed: The Afghan soldiers, police and civilians he treated in Kandahar had radically different bodies from those of the Canadians he took care of back home.
"Typical Afghan civilians and soldiers would have been 140 pounds or so as adults. And when we operated on them, what we were aware of was the absence of any fat or any adipose tissue underneath the skin," Patterson says. "Of course, when we operated on Canadians or Americans or Europeans, what was normal was to have most of the organs encased in fat. It had a visceral potency to it when you could see it directly there."
( Patterson, pictured in the Canadian Arctic, is also a novelist. More on him and his work at the National Review of Medicine website.)
Listen to Terry Gross interview Dr. Patterson on Fresh Air here:
Via AP/Canadian press TOKYO - "Japan's biggest instant noodle maker Nissin says it will deliver 1 million packets to victims of the earthquake and tsunami in the northeast.
Nissin Foods Holdings Co. Ltd. said Sunday it will also deliver "kitchen cars." These are vehicles equipped with gas-powered kitchenettes and running water for cooking noodles.
Japanese beverage maker Suntory Holdings Ltd. says it will deliver 360,000 bottles of water in the disaster zone."
Nissin employs 22,000 people worldwide.
At right, typical ramen cart in Japan, perhaps the "kitchen cars" suggested in the AP piece.
Two years ago a battery-powered, remote-controlled tiny ramen cart replica was introduced in Japan. A must have for The FOOD Museum collection!
Did I know there was a tv genre dubbed "workplace comedy?" Not really, but over the years I have noticed that most people in tv comedies rarely work, prepare food, or eat. To the rescue comes the new animated show from Fox, "Bob's Burgers," about a bizarre yet cohesive family of five, The Belchers, running an iffy burger joint in an unknown city. They work, they prepare food, they eat! ( And the restaurant's biggest competitor is Jimmy Pesto's Pizzeria.)
The humor is off-the-wall, unexpected, droll, low key. The NYTimes reviewer found "Bob's" vulgar. My, my. It does veer into 4th grade boy-land a few times, and poop jokes will probably be left, um, behind soon by the writers, but this show is worth a look. Maybe a second or third look. I admit I almost said no after Week 2, but I am glad I stuck with it.
Yes, it's not entirely even. The show with the cow was great, the show with Bob faux-trapped in the walls, not so much. My favorite epi thus far was last week, where Bob's oldest hapless, drony daughter Tina gets a crush on a long-haired instructor of Capoeira, the Brazilian combo of martial arts, music and dance. Tina fails her Cap test and is crushed. Fatherly concern arises. Sweet.
The "drawing" itself is superb, each character well conveyed. Watching graceless Tina swinging herself back and forth like a metronome....Running gags feature things like The Cumin-Get-It Burger on signs posted at the counter.
BTW The Capoeira guy asked Bob for a veggie burger, can you believe?
I referred in a Super Bowl post to the Grilled Meatloaf Sundae, coming to the Florida State Fair, Tampa. Well, how about Mashed Potatoes and Gravy fried on a stick? The Ice Cream Burger? Or that perennial fave, Deep Fried Dryer Lint w/White Truffles and Caviar? ( I only made up that last one...)
Apparently returning to the Fair, from The Cupcake Spot in Tampa, are these: the Maple-Bacon Cupcake, and that most popular snackish choice, the Kettlecorn C.C.
The Cupcake Spot apparently uses actual decent ingredients, such as butter and vanilla. Unlike the 37-ingredient Twinkie, brought to us by Hostess Brands, makers of Wonder Bread.
Photographer Dwight Eschliman decided to photograph all 37 ingredients, and we found his work here. Be sure to click on the teeny-tiny arrow at top left to "play" this project.
Parking before starting a morning stroll along one of America's more pricey strips of waterfront at Coffee Pot Bayou in St. Petersburg, FL, I noticed a woman and two cute dogs in the next vehicle. It appeared they were living there.
She got out and I got out, we exchanged "Good morning" greetings, and I walked over to peer into the shallows at silver schools of fish hanging like clouds over the heads of the much bigger sheepshead or convict fish, dressed in their usual snappy black and white stripes. Then I turned back to the reed-thin woman and asked, lamely, "Is there anything I can do for you?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Well, apparently, you are living in your car."
"You got that right!"
So....her life was in confusing flux, one of her children might come down from Michigan to help her, her dogs' toenails needed clipping, she wanted to air out her bedding, and, thank God, she made coffee every morning here at Coffee Pot Bayou, cleverly and illegally, by setting up her own Mister Coffee machine on a picnic table and using electricity from a plug presumably readied for Christmas lighting.
I noticed good rings on her left hand, and traces of a decent dye job on her hair, and officially met her dogs, Suzy and Banjo. We'll call the woman Barb.
I suggested that the Quakers, among others, distributed food on Friday afternoons, but couldn't recall the exact location.
"I would have to drive there, wherever, most likely, and I'm way low on gas." We laughed together, at the irony of having a movable home that was a liability if it could not move, since Barb could be in trouble with authorities if she tried to spend the entire night on C.P. Bayou.
So I gave her some $$$, and she and the doggies sputtered swiftly out of the parking lot. After the gas purchase, Barb said she would head to McD's for a cheeseburger. She said she could get it for a buck.
Earlier I had read on-line about economists predicting a 7% rise in food prices in 2009--food from cows, poultry and hogs--because of higher feed costs. So much for the cheap burger.
Maybe by 2009 Barb will have found her way. It's only two months away.
( Thanks to arichny.blogspot.com/.../
Back in the high desert after a vacation along the east coast, I can report A--a lack of rain here; B--the aroma of roasting chiles in the air, and ; C--a need in yours truly to vent.
I hear a "har-har" radio story about a man who happily has eaten a BigMac every day since the early 1970's, and I reflect on the inanity of much of what is labeled" news" these days. (Incidentally, the report said the guy walks 10 miles a day............!)
Even food news as noted in effete east publications endlessly focuses on the same boutique farms like Stone Barns, outside of New York---why? because it's close to NY and easy to get the story. Kidstuff. We had a terrific time there ourselves, but the notion that its all-natural restaurant, Blue Hill, is accessible to the average mortal is utterly bogus. It's hideously costly and difficult to book into. And many other places across the country serve up tasty, locally-grown food as well. Thankfully, this is a trend.
Having just spent about a week working on Summit Springs Farm in Maine with two old pals, in the farm's first summer as a CSA, I can attest to the fact that growing food is exceedingly hard, satisfying, down and dirty, frustrating, joyful, tiring, and all the rest. In other words, the undertaking is full of contrasts, of gray, of subtlety. It is serious stuff, the work of adults, of grown-up people who comprehend its importance.
Case in point re contrast---The giant horn worms that found the tomato plants in the greenhouse are spectacular beauties, busily going about their mandate to destroy said plants. Feeding them to the happy hens in their enclosure made me both utterly satisfied, ( as were the "girls,") but also a twinge remorseful--these creatures are perfectly designed, and turn into hummingbird-sized hawkmoths, if they make it that far in their lifecyle. Of course they fancy many of the solanaceae--tomatoes, tobacco, eggplant, and potatoes, too, though I have never seen them on any spud plants in my realm. I plucked them from my bin-grown tomatoes earlier this season, after finding two giants decimating a datura ( Jimson weed) plant not close by.
As the farm is headed towards its organic rating, it uses no pesticides. So the tomato plants are fading away earlier than they might, under onslaut from the lovely green worms. And the squash bugs are working away in the winter squash rows, though thus far the squash are holding their ground. ( I know, as we weeded the hell out of them...)
Each week the farm decides what to offer its CSA members, and sometimes, these choices are tough--rain rotted many of the potatoes, the chard is fading, the new lettuces not yet ready--and yet satisfied customers roll away from the small garlic-festooned barn with what IS available. Apples just picked from one fecund tree by Sonya. Jewel boxes of yellow and red cherry tomatoes, and plenty of "blue" spuds.
We are looking at a crucial election this year, by the way, one that will impact the nations of the world, as well as the planet, and, of course, these United States. While some wish to pretend we are electing junior high student council personalities, and that up is down and backwards is forwards, sorry, kids, the grownups are here, and when we are not weeding, planting, harvesting and selling, we are voting like responsible adults.
(Two of the Rockin' Goddesses weeding away in the eggplant row.)
As many people now know, Wall.E is a trash-collecting robot who finds love in an extremely unattractive environment, our own Planet Earth in the year 2700. The Pixar flick is touching, clever, and a tad too long. The film opens with little Wall.E pursuing his workaday life in the rubble of a trash-filled, people-free Earth. The lone "live" creature there is a resilient cockroach who reminds older (nay, ancient) viewers of the fabled Jiminy Cricket, though the cucaracha has no lines.
Long story short, Wall.E's life begins to change when a probe robot released from a spaceship arrives on Earth and finds a wispy green plant that Wall.E has stashed away with his belongings. The arrival of the plant signals the return of life to Earth and galvanizes the fat, immobilized, junk-food swilling cartoon humans on the Mother Ship into action. Chases and antics ensue, mostly among the robots, because the humans can't even toddle.
Love conquers all, of course, and agriculture is reborn. Fade to credits.
Don't miss the credits! They are riveting, as they present the history of art, animated version. In my view, the film should have ended, and then a screen saying Do Not Leave Yet should have popped up. Because the art finale is superlative.
Wall.E is a not so subtle indictment of Fat America, people.( BNL, the corporate entity that had taken over Earth in the film, stands for Big N Large.) We were sitting in the so-called Handicapped seats and watched the credits through the mostly weight-challenged people streaming out, many of them dragging or carrying kids, popcorn containers, and drinks.
The food spilled on the carpets in America's Metroplex's could probably feed the people of Bhutan for a day.
ps The cockroach lives inside the one food item on Earth that has not decomposed---a Twinkie-type offering.
CORRECTION, JULY 5---The corporate monolith is Buy 'N Large not Big 'N Large.
The marketing minds in the Dodgers' baseball organization have come up with a lovely new way to increase ticket sales in a lousy part of the stadium, while at the same time pushing up antacid use and obesity figures among Angelenos. Buy a ticket for a seat out in right field, and get an all-you-can-eat opportunity that begins, according to a report on MSNBC," 90 minutes before the first pitch, and lasts before the start of the seventh inning"-- the available eats are dogs, popcorn, nachos, peanuts and sodas. No beer, ice cream or candy.
"Fans are allowed four items per trip to the food counters under the stands. Soda stations offer unlimited drinks and bottled water is free."
Dodgers' COO Marty Greenspun is delighted with the right field experiment, proclaiming it a hit with fans. ( Average walk up ticket price is $40, $20 if part of a group. A hotdog usually costs $4.75, as do sodas. )
“This is really not about gluttony,” he said. “This is really about offering a new fan amenity. It’s all up to individual choices.”
( Dodger Dog thanks to http://la.foodblogging.com/2005/05/21/dodgers-fans-divided-over-dogs-drinks-at-stadium/)
No big surprise here as we read in the Washington Post that half the tv ads aimed at children in the US are for food, most of it in the lousy column. After analyzing 1600 hours of tv programming either specifically designed for kids, or likely to have a large child or teen viewing audience, the Kaiser Family Foundation discovered that " 34 percent marketed candy and snacks, 28 percent were for cereal, and 10 percent promoted fast foods. No commercials promoted fruit or vegetables. " ( Duh.)
In an ideal world young people would be fed well at home, never introduced to junky fast food, and tv would be an occasional diversion.
Tra la.
You can read more at the Kaiser site here.
( Cartoon from calorielab.com)
A fixture in downtown Columbus, Ohio for 37 years, the first ever Wendy's Restaurant closed Friday. An AP story byAndrew-Welsh Huggins reported that the store was a victim of a downtown location with poor parking and no life after five o'clock. The relocation of the city science museum from across the street was the final blow.
According to AP, "Wendy's restored the restaurant in 1994 to its original fixtures, including multicolored Tiffany glass lamps, hanging plastic beads and tables with old-fashioned newspaper laminate surfaces. 
The company plans to move the memorabilia to corporate headquarters in the suburb of Dublin."
Apparently, old photos, the blue striped dress sewn by her mother for founder Dave Thomas' daughter Wendy after whom he named the store, and other offbeat food historic gems, are part of the collection.
I was just listening to a woman from the Center for Science in the Public Interest speaking with Ed Schultz on his radio show about children and obesity. Now we all recognize that this is a huge ( sorry) problem in America, as well as in Britain and elsewhere, and much has been said and written about it. But this morning, after chat about changing what is in school vending machines, and an acknowledgment that lunchrooms have slowly improved their offerings, the speaker said something about "teaching nutrition" in schools.
Please, no. Turning the food thing into a nutrition lesson will kill off anyone's appetite. ( Except for those of budding biochemists, perhaps.) Imagine the young eyes glazing over when asked to focus on good and bad fats, which vitamins do what, amino acids--huh?, and so on. This seems to play right into the "fear food" syndrome that appears so bizarre to many Europeans.
Kids need to experience what good food really is--from growing their own veggies, to cooking up tasty meals full of variety, to sitting down with classmates and teachers and family and eating well. And cleaning up!
They also could take pleasure in knowing where food comes from, who raises it, and what its history is. ( Yes, The FOOD Museum offers proven educational programs along these lines!)
Interspersed with all that, like green peas in basmati rice, could be inserted stealth nuggets about nutrition...
( Pic from www.newmexicokids.org/.../
Here's Lili, Queen of the Florida Devil Crab entrepreneurs. We had just turned south from Ybor City and were heading down to Bradenton when we spotted her tiny white scooter-style van by the side of Route 41 South.
"Hey, Mama, what can I get you?" A high energy huckster in the best possible sense, Lili has the patter and jive of the pro she is. She told us she had started up and sold a handful of businesses over the years, always taking a year off before starting the next.
This time her aim is to revive the roadside vendor tradition of Ybor City, selling deep fried devil crabs, crab empanadas, meat-stuffed potatoes, ( based on her Mom Lidia's recipes,) French fries, and, in the works, a range of desserts. Her wagon? An Indian-made white "van", brand name Bajaj, serves as vending point, kitchen and vehicle.
Oh-- did I mention that she's Cuban? 
"The Cubans coming into this country, many of them, are educated professionals, " says Lili. "But they can't get good work here the minute they arrive. They're janitors making $6 an hour. I want to offer some of them the opportunity to become self-sufficient, owning and running a franchise selling devil crab."
Lili and her family came to Ybor City from Cuba in 1970, when she was five. Her parents had been running a grocery store. Castro's people seized the family's stove, and their sewing machine. In the States her parents worked at the Arturo Fuente Cigar Factory, as well as at other jobs.
Right now Lili is training her cousin Maribelle, over from Cuba just three months, and a young friend in Florida just a month. They are intently trying to learn the customer chatter Lily has perfected--their English is raw--along with the fry technique. Maribelle bends over the fry pot, and Nomar is set to doing prep work in Lili's brother's restaurant. The little white vending van sits out front of his place, Monday through Friday, 1-6.
When traffic starts to thin, the shy and retiring Lili roars into the restaurant and zooms back out dressed in her chicken costume, wildly waving a sign that reads, " Eat More Devil Crabs." 
At $3 a pop, the plump crab croquettes are beyond good, and far better than those I praised at Columbia Restaurant. " Of course," says Lili," when I tell her that.
"These are made with lotta, lotta, lotta Cuban love. ( Three times, three times.) That's the secret."
Did I mention that Lili Peguero is Cuban?
( To buy a franchise email Lili at [email protected])
