Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts

Monday, March 30, 2009

Going crackers (or, Grandma's attic part II)

A few weeks ago, while trying to recover from the Horrible Stomach Flu of Death, I sent Seth out to get one the time-honored stomach illness restoratives: the saltine cracker.

These crackers have soothed me since childhood through colds, food poisoning, intestinal illness of all kinds, hangovers and pregnancy. I've always been able to count on these crackers for their salty, inoffensive blandness, and their gentle, flaky texture, guaranteed to rest easy even in the most tumultuous of recovering tummies. I was ready for their comforting sameness, which hasn't changed since my childhood. Right? Nope, wrong. A few crackers in, I realized they tasted different. Sort of....sweet. Seth confirmed that he tasted the same thing. A glance at the ingredient list, and there it was: high fructose corn syrup. Now, seriously, why do you need sweetener in a bland saltine cracker of all things? I mean, aren't these things basically water, flour and salt? How much simpler can you get as far as a food product?


Not that simple, apparently. Having read Michael Pollan's "The Omnivore's Dilemma" a few months ago, we're on board with the idea of trying not to consume too much processed stuff and stuff containing corn derivatives, so as not to become giant walking corn chips, which is what most Americans are, if you are truly what you eat. As Pollan explains, the growing of corn is heavily subsidized. Thus, there is overproduction of corn, thus something has to be done with all the corn, thus corn and corn products are in nearly everything. Check your food labels, you'll be shocked. There is evidence on both sides as to whether corn sweeteners are metabolized differently than other sweeteners, and whether they contribute to the epidemic of obesity in this country. But really, how can it be good to have high fructose corn syrup in something that just doesn't need it, like a stupid cracker? Why are our tastebuds being bombarded with sugary sweetness in a fundamentally savory item?

After looking at the ingredient list on the 2009 box of saltines, I told Seth about the vintage metal Premium cracker box we always had in the house since I was a kid. My mom always bought crackers and stored them in this box, because it kept them fresher. The box has to be older than me - I remember it from my earliest days. I remember sitting at the kitchen table, eating my cheese and crackers or tomato soup and crackers, and reading the side of the metal cracker box. Very plainly, in English and Spanish, it listed the ingredients. My recollection was that the crackers contained a very short list of ingredients: flour, leavening, shortening, salt. I was headed to my mom's house soon. I would have to investigate.

As you know from my previous post, the cracker box had to still be in my mom's house. Of course it was:


And there was the short ingredient list, just as I remembered it, so concise:

To me, this list looks like food, people, not chemical engineering. I know that these days the FDA regulations require a little more detail, like what kind of shortening or leavening, but still. It would hardly make the ingredient list longer.

Is this progress?
Maybe I'm just swayed by the nostalgia of the metal cracker box: durable, reusable, simple, with its short and understandable list of ingredients. But really, has the lowly, simple saltine cracker now been improved by its longer, polysyllabic ingredient list? Why did it need to be changed? And most importantly, what the hell are we eating?

Monday, July 7, 2008

Bacon-O-Rama! Or, the latest installation of Bacon Says I Love You

I'm simply giddy with thoughts of my favorite cured pork product today. Not only is Salon doing Pork Week (read the first installation about my beloved bacon here, and perchance you should try the bacon bra (yes you read that right)) , but my friend Mike sent me the ultimate gift pack of BACON SALT:


Beautiful, isn't it? And kosher too!

He says, and I quote: "To ensure that your child (wow isn't that a scary concept; it is like saying Mike's wife) is brought up in a caring and loving environment, I thought it was wise to start the little bundle of joy off (in the womb no less) with the sweet loving taste of BACON!"


I just got teary-eyed over that sweet sentiment. There's definitely no fear of the baby not knowing what bacon tastes like. The two things that have tasted good to me throughout pregnancy thus far, no matter how queasy or heartburny or food averse: bacon and beer. Figures, eh? (To be clear here, I have only had long-savored occasional sips of whatever delicious, delicious beer my husband has been drinking, so nobody go calling Child Protective Services just yet. But damn, I don't think beer ever tasted so good as it does NOW THAT I CAN'T HAVE IT.)


Bacon, however, given its no-alcohol content, I have devoured with impunity.

Friday, March 7, 2008

I did warn you....

(And the carnage continues....)

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

Score = Roberta - 1, Samoas - 0



You're next, motherfuckers.

(Nom nom nom nom)

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Because Bacon Says I Love You

This all started out in a perfectly innocent e-mail exchange with my Tulane law school classmate Mike, who is responsible for that phrase. He gave us this pearl of wisdom at 8am on the last Sunday of April 1998 as he cooked us hangover breakfast (replete with bacon) and served us beer before we headed out for a day of Jazz Fest-ing in New Orleans.

Our 10-year law school reunion is coming up in April, and I've been busy booking plane tickets and B&Bs, and reading menus like poetry as I plan my New Orleans eating itinerary. This is serious business, especially since Seth is coming with me, and he has never been to New Orleans. I was once mocked by an old boyfriend for discussing what to order for dinner that night at Frankie & Johnny's while I was still standing in line waiting to order lunch at Mother's. You can see why that boyfriend didn't last. This kind of thing makes perfect sense to the people of southern Louisiana, who take their eating seriously.

Anyhow, Mike sent me a link to Cochon, a relative newbie in the distinguished New Orleans dining scene. I think I have to go there, because anything named after a pig cannot be bad.

Then I got this in my e-mail:

"Because you know what says love?"



My response:

"That's a beautiful thing. You've got me all teary-eyed. I might swoon. "

Mike:

"I have that effect on women; check out http://www.baconsalt.com/ "


And goddamn! It's BACON SALT.



Now I really might swoon. How have I lived this long without knowing this existed?

And it's VEGETARIAN and KOSHER. OMG! Oy vey! The guilty pleasure possibilities of this are practically endless. Kale and BACON SALT. Matzo and BACON SALT. Tofu and BACON SALT. Gefilte fish and BACON SALT. Ok, maybe that last one is too much to ask, even of BACON SALT.

This just proves what the devoted smoked, cured, pork devourers among us have known all along: Everything tastes better with bacon. Even if you're a vegetarian or a Jew.

Bacon: it will unite us all.

Saturday, February 9, 2008

I Am Part of the Tribe


We're driving home today, after running a few miles out on the C&O Canal Towpath, and discussing what we should eat when we get home.

Seth says: "We have bagels."

Me: "But we don't have any cream cheese."

Seth: "Sometimes you're so picky. There are many other things you can put on bagels besides cream cheese."

Me: "But I don't like any of those things. If there is no cream cheese, I am not eating a bagel."

Seth: "Sometimes you're too Jewish."

Saturday, May 19, 2007

Happiness is....




...a great big plate of hot, spicy boiled crawfish. See how excited my friend Leigh is? We spent the day at the annual Tulane crawfish boil. Seth and I appreciated them extra much since we biked to the boil from Capitol Hill. When we got home on shaky legs, we figured out our round trip was about 32 miles. I think we earned our crawfish and beer.

I also want to take this moment to remind you that if you like crawfish, gumbo, etouffe, Cajun, Zydeco, Commander's Palace, Sid-Mar's, andouille, Zapps, muffalettas, Momus, po boys (dressed of course!), barbeque shrimp, pirogues, Rebirth, Mother's, Tipitina's, or you know how to say "Tchopitoulas, " get off yer butt and do something to help the most unique and lately drowned US city of New Orleans. I spent three memorable years in the city that gave us all of the aforementioned, a city that creeps into your soul as sure as the climbing morning glories creep to cover the wrought iron fences of the Garden District. The culture, music, history and iconography of New Orleans is everywhere - everyone caught on to Cajun music and food, Mardi Gras, and the Blue Dog - yet the city is still drowning. Here are some places where you can throw some people sumthin, Mistah:

http://www.desirenola.org
www.renewnola.org
www.bluedogrelief.com
www.nomrf.org

On a side note, Seth wants everyone to know that he picked Curlin to win the Preakness. A friend of ours went to Pimlico for the races today and placed a $5 bet for us. When she called, she was awfully excited about Seth's winning bet, which we didn't understand until we watched a video of the race on the internet. Curlin by a nose!