On burgers, briefs, buffoons and bones

A few random thoughts:

I saw a story on the Internet this week clearly illustrating that some people have too much time on their hands and also are horribly misguided. A watchdog group called Corporate Accountability International is mounting a campaign to have Ronald McDonald removed as mascot of the fast-food chain bearing the same name, apparently because he is leading kids to potentially unhealthy fast food. Now, certainly, kids think Ronald is a pretty cool guy, and they're big on the Happy Meals, but Ronald isn't going to their houses and giving them rides to the Golden Arches. It's up to parents to decide whether their children get a Happy Meal or a Filet-O-Fish or a Big Mac and fries. We can only assume that Corporate Accountability International will be coming out in favor of the Hamburglar, with hopes that he will snatch cheeseburgers from the hands of children. What they should really do is just shut up.

When it comes to groceries, I'm very picky about what I buy. I'm not saying I only buy healthy foods, but that I make sure the junk that I'm putting into my body is top-quality junk. When it comes to clothes shopping, I'm not nearly so meticulous. Ask anyone who has seen how I dress. My inattention to detail proved to be a problem the other day. I was in the market for some underwear, so I went to the local store with the bull's-eye logo and checked out its offerings. I've always been a briefs guy, and when I spotted a six-pack of nice-looking, well-priced “sport briefs,” I tossed them in the cart. It was only when I got them home and tried on a pair that I noticed ... there's no hole in the front of these briefs. My underwear have always had holes in a useful place, so this has required a bit of an adjustment in my bathroom routine. The whole thing left me wondering, though. Do "sporty" people not go Number One all that often? And when they do go, do they maybe sit? Sorry. That's just how my twisted mind works.

No one does a better job of treating their viewers like drooling imbeciles than local TV newscasters. During prime time, they'll breathlessly run promos for their 11 o’clock news with teasers like this: “Is a serial killer stalking South Hills residents?” Then they'll come on at 11 and tell you that, no, it was a false alarm. I was actually just a raccoon going through people's trash cans. I exaggerate, but you get the drift. This next part is real. The other night, the irritatingly kooky Wendy Bell on WTAE was teasing an upcoming story about the Steelers’ preseason schedule. She said something about the Steelers facing “strange competition” next preseason and telling viewers to stay tuned to find out what “enemies” the black and gold would be facing. This really had me wondering. Would the Steelers perhaps be squaring off against the Colgate University lacrosse team? Canadian female curlers? The Bangladesh national badminton squad? Uh, no. Turns out they'll be playing a couple of teams they don’t normally play in the exhibition season. And what’s with this “enemies” stuff? Those preseason games are glorified practices. There's not enough anger or enmity in those so-called contests to fuel a go-cart. The real rage should come from season-ticket holders who have to pay top dollar for the right to attend those auditions for third-string tight ends.

Finally, let's talk about lunch meat. It never seemed odd to me when stores advertised “ham off the bone.” Real hams have a bone right down the middle, and one could easily imagine somebody carving lunch meat off of them. But last night on TV, I saw a Shop ’n Save ad touting turkey off the bone. Huh? Last time I checked, turkeys had lots of bones, and I couldn't think of one particular turkey bone that a butcher might be carving slices of lunch meat from. What's next? Bologna off the bone? Salami off the bone? Maybe head cheese off the bone? Just wondering.

Wandering down to West Virginia

A few thoughts from a quick trip over the weekend to The Highlands, the shopping development just over the state line on I-70 on the way to Wheeling:

– The missus and I paid a visit to the Books a Million store at The Highlands, and after browsing for quite a while, I walked out without making a purchase. The reason: They didn't have a single thing that I couldn't buy online and have delivered right to my front door. At a cheaper price. I'm pretty sure that retail bookstores are about to go the way of record stores. The Books a Million Store was very nice, as are the Borders and Barnes & Noble stores up by South Hills Village, but when a person can buy a book from the comfort of their own home and save money in the process, what's the incentive for folks to drive to one of these stores? When the Borders Express store closed at the Franklin Mall, it meant nothing to me. I hadn't been there a half dozen times over the previous few years. One reason is that there just weren't very many books there. My online bookseller of choice offers thousands more titles than the traditional bookstore, as well as CDs, DVDs, clothing, etc. Plus, I can order used books from vendors affiliated with this particular online retailing giant, saving myself even more money. And I'm not one of those “techies” who wants to read books on a Kindle or some other such electronic apparatus. I like reading a good, old-fashioned hardbound book. I like the smell of them. I like the heft of a good book in my hands. I like falling asleep with one open on my chest. In short, I love books. I just don't love bookstores anymore, at least not enough to make a regular trip.

– I also stopped by Quaker Steak and Lube for lunch. From what I understand, their wings are their pride and joy. Maybe I just hit them on a bad day, but the wings I had were nondescript, tough and dry. I must say that the cheesy, bacon-sprinkled fries I had on the side were outstanding, and from the looks of the menu, I think I'd like to try their burgers and soup, but the wings. Meh. I've had better wings as several establishments much closer to home, including my favorite (and the closest), Breezy Heights Tavern. I think I'll stick with the locals from now on when I want some tasty chicken extremities.

– One of the (typically false) arguments used by those who favor keeping the Soviet-style Pennsylvania liquor sales system is that the clerks at our state stores are the only thing standing between us and private businessmen forcing booze into the hands of drunks and schoolchildren. They paint a horrible picture of unfettered sales by unscrupulous wine merchants interested only in making a buck. Well, it’s certainly not that way with the private-enterprise system in West Virginia, at least based on my experience Saturday. I went into a Target store to buy a couple of bottles of wine – buying wine conveniently, what a concept – and when I approached the young girl at the cash register, she asked to see my ID. Now, I'm 51 years old. On my best day, and with a cashier suffering from extreme astigmatism, I might pass for 40. Nevertheless, the young lady wanted to see my identification. She then took my driver's license, made sure the photo matched my face, and swiped the magnetic strip on my license through a slot in her cash register. Whether that's to make sure that the license was legit or to keep a record of who is buying booze, I'm not sure, but I am sure that West Virginia isn't the Wild West when it comes to alcohol sales.

Where have you gone, hefty PB cups?

In the 1942 movie “Kings Row,” a newly legless Ronald Reagan famously asks, "Where's the rest of me?" That was sort of the feeling I had today when I bought a two-pack of the Reese's dark chocolate peanut butter cups. The package was so light that I thought they might have to tie the candy bars to the rack so a light breeze doesn't blow them away. Folks of my generation have memories, which we're only too glad to share, about the days when a kid could take a dime into a store and come out with a Hershey bar and a Coke. And in those days, a Reese's peanut butter cup was a good-sized piece of candy. Maybe I'm overdoing it a bit, but it seems like a single Reese's cup from my youth weighed more than the two in the pack I bought today. Food producers are a pretty tricky bunch. We all remember how the coffee cans started shrinking so we paid the same price for less coffee. It's been the same deal with ice cream containers. And I even noticed that a package of hash browns, which used to weigh 2 pounds, now comes in at around 34.5 ounces. On the good side of food news, we are now able to buy "throwback" Pepsi and Mountain Dew, which means they are produced with real sugar rather than the corn syrup that has been used, as far as I can recall, since the 1980s. The difference in taste is remarkable. The bad news is that Pepsi says the "throwback" versions – also known as “Mexican,” because sodas in that country still are produced with real sugar – will be available for a "limited time only." Let's see if I have this right. Pepsi puts out a product that is clearly preferable to the one that had been available, and then plans to take it back off the market. In other words, they're screwing with us. It's like McDonald's and the McRib sandwich. I rarely eat at McDonald's, but I will stop by if I see that the McRib is making one of its occasional "limited-time-only" appearances. And then, just as quickly as the McRib reappears, it is gone again. Why do they do this?

Say it ain't so, SpaghettiOs

There are some minor events in one's childhood that stand out while other, more important events are forgotten. It's been more than 40 years, but I can still recall my introduction to one of the greatest foods known to man: SpaghettiOs. And I'm still eating them (meatballs version only; don't even talk to me about sliced franks). But life as I know it is about to change, and not for the better. Campbell's Soup Co., the makers of this delectable treat (Even cats like it!), has announced that it will cut the amount of sodium in SpaghettiOs by as much as 35 percent. Said Sean Connolly, president of Campbell's U.S. soups, sauces and beverages division, "Changing the recipe of SpaghettiOs comes on the heels of reducing sodium in our condensed kids soups to healthy levels. It's also consistent with our commitment to advertise only sound food choices to children." Screw that. What about us big kids? Couldn't they make a "classic" version of SpaghettiOs for those of us who don't give a damn about our sodium intake and make a tasteless kids version? This is just another assault on traditional (bad-for-you) foods that we all knew and loved. Oreos and Twinkies are now just poor imitations or their original selves. I don't know what they did to Dinty Moore beef stew, but it isn't good. And don't try to tell me that McDonald's fries are as good now as they were when Ronald was deep-frying his taters in beef tallow. I'm all for giving our kids healthy food, but the occasional can of SpaghettiOs isn't going to ruin them. Heck, I ate a boatload of SpaghettiOs when I was a kid, and I was skinny as a rail back then. It wasn't until I made beer the base of my own personal food pyramid that I climbed aboard the train to Fatville. So, in the name of all that is decent, good and holy, I beg of you Campbell's, leave my O's alone.

But you can feel free to keep paying more

If you think you're doing your body some good by buying organic food, think again. Reuters reports that a study conducted by researchers from the London School of Hygiene & Tropical Medicine has found that organic food has zero nutritional or health benefits, when compared with non-organic food. The study noted that consumers are paying more, sometimes a lot more, for organic food. I'm not one of those people. From what I've seen, organic food is typically smaller and, for lack of a better word, crappier, than the chemically enhanced versions. But if you want to feel good about your effect on the environment by eating the organic stuff, feel free. In the meantime, I'll be eating nice big vegetables and tasty chemically altered meat.

And just a hint of snobbery

I always get a kick out of people who are, or believe themselves to be, wine experts. They'll take a sip of wine and talk about the flavors of vanilla, black pepper, tobacco and blackberries that shine through. There's a line in the great movie "Sideways," after Miles (played by Paul Giamatti and shown above with Jack, played by Thomas Haden Church) takes a swig at a California winery. "There's just the faintest soupcon of, like, asparagus and just a flutter of, like, a nutty Edam cheese." Asparagus? Cheese? I've taken in a lot of red wine, and I'm obviously no expert, because all I ever taste is ... well, wine. We've been conditioned to believe that something that is more expensive, be it wine or food or cars, is inherently better than something with a lower price tag. Eric Asimov, in his New York Times blog "The Pour," recently wrote about a new book by food writer Robin Goldstein called "The Wine Trials." Goldstein gathered up 500 volunteers and had them try more than 500 unidentified wines ranging in price from $1.50 to $150 a bottle. Professional wine tasters in the group had different opinions, but the average Joes and Janes preferred a $10 bottle of champagne from Washington state over Dom Perignon, and they thought Two-Buck Chuck, the ultra-inexpensive cabernet from Charles Shaw in California, was more quaffable than a $55 cabernet from Napa Valley. I've had Two-Buck Chuck, and it's a very good wine. Of course, we can't get it at our Soviet-style state liquor stores. But that's another issue. Asimov also pointed to a study by the California Institute of Technology and Stanford Business School showing that the more expensive people think a wine is, the better they like it. The researchers gave their subjects the same wine twice but gave them two different prices for what they were drinking. They always preferred the "higher-priced" wine. I think what this tells us is that we're a bunch of sheep. The best advice I ever got about wine was to experiment and then drink what you like, label or price be damned. Some wines that I've enjoyed around the $10-a-bottle range are Barefoot merlot, Rosemount shiraz and Firestone gewurztraminer. Please feel free to share some of your favorites with me and readers of the blog. And, as always, "To your health."

Memories of meat

Some experiences from childhood never leave us, and sometimes those experiences involve food: Grandma's macaroni salad, Mom's fried chicken, etc. One food from my childhood that I'll never forget was the barbecued beef sandwich at Weber's snack bar and ice cream stand, just past Lincoln Hill on Route 40 on the way to Claysville. The place had great french fries, soft-serve ice cream, burgers and jumbo fish sandwiches, but it was Mrs. Weber's barbecued beef that lingers in my mind. It's probably the single best sandwich I've ever eaten. The Weber family sold the business when I was still a youngster, and it went through several incarnations before burning to the ground a year or so ago. The food was still good the last time I was there, but it never approached the Weber's days. I would actually have to consider sacrificing an appendage if someone could get me the recipe for Mrs. Weber's crowning culinary achievement. Feel free to share your memories of long-gone restaurants and their signature dishes. I'm sure others will enjoy your recollections.