Supermarket Shell Game: You Pay the Same, They Give You Less

So does that box of cereal seem a little slimmer, that can of tuna a little lighter? Does it feel like you just bought that jar of peanut butter that you're now scraping the bottom of?

Well, at least you can take comfort in the fact that you're not going crazy. As the New York Times reports, we can say so long to the era of "supersizing": Meet the incredible shrinking carton of ice cream.

No doubt you've heard that the cost of, well, just about everything is going up. But what you may have only had an inkling of until now is that one sneaky way food makers are passing those costs onto you is not to raise prices; it's to get you to shell out the same amount for just a little bit less in return.
The list goes on and on: pasta, canned vegetables, crackers, candy. Where once you could get a 64-oz. jug of Tropicana orange juice, now you have to settle for 59 oz. Bags of Doritos and Fritos today contain 20 percent fewer chips than they did two years ago.

Now, this isn't an entirely new. We've all heard from our grandparents how much bubblegum you could get back in the day for a nickel.

But what is new is how manufacturers are trying to trick customers into thinking that these dwindling portions are a good thing: good for you; good for the planet. They're touting their smaller packages as eco-friendly (because they use less raw materials) and advertising them as "healthier" (while neglecting to trumpet the fact that the only reason they're healthier is because they're forcing you to eat less).

And then there's this gem from Kraft. It's promoting its new "Fresh Stacks" packaging for its Premium saltines and Honey Maid graham crackers. Each sleeve contains 15 percent fewer crackers for the same price.

"The packaging format offers the benefit of added freshness," a Kraft spokesman told the Times.

Yeah, "fresh" is one word for it

Is There Hope for Hospital Food?

Photo: Mike Groll / AP Photo

Who wants to eat in a hospital? We're guessing most of you would rather head for a school cafeteria or an airline, if given the option. Anyone who's ever found themselves in a hospital bed quickly discovers that medical centers and rehabilitation facilities aren't exactly the best places in town to nab nutritious grub. To be fair, hospital kitchens are dealing with the pickiest stomachs on earth because of an endless variety of dietary restrictions. It's enough to make even the most skilled chef quiver. Enter Lynne Eddy, instructor for Food Service Management in Health Care, a first-of-its-kind course at the Culinary Institute of America.

"We're dealing with medications, chewing problems...we could talk for eons about it," says Eddy. She comes to the CIA as a registered dietitian with 25 years' experience in the industry, and this month, she'll send off her first batch of graduates equipped to serve as entry-level managers in health care facilities.
"When I started to look at where the demographics are going, I just think it's a wonderful career option for our students to consider," she says.

Offered in the second semester of senior year, the course welcomes students in the final leg of their bachelor's degree in either Culinary Arts or Baking and Pastry Arts who already have courses in nutrition and management under their belts. In Eddy's class, students are exposed to medical terminology, hospital budgets and health care politics. Over the 15-week period, students hear from guest speakers along every stop on the cafeteria line -- from executive chefs working on doctor-recommended menu development to a representative from one of the largest manufacturers of those ubiquitous orange trays.

The classes also take field trips to nearby facilities in the Hudson Valley, where CIA calls home, and a medical center in New York City to actually get face time with potential clientele, from healthy seniors in assisted living condos to cancer patients in large hospitals. At the third-week mark, students take on mentorships at an assigned facility, and at the end of the class, they present a report on the pros and cons of the operation.

It may take a while for that slab of gray meat and soggy vegetables to disappear, but here's to a program that's building a future where food for the sick ... doesn't make us sick.

New Shakes, Slurpees, and Frappes Take a Walk on the Weird Side

 

photos: 7-Eleven; Arby's; Dunkin Donuts

Love the jolt of a good old Mountain Dew? Then you're going to flip for the new very yellow, very slushy Dunkin' Donuts' Mountain Dew Coolatta, coming in May.

But before you plan a summer-long date with a poolside Dew-latta, you might want to check out USA Today's round-up of the other new (and slightly weird) spring and summer frozen drinks, from fruity Slushees to lemonade chillers.

Oreo cookie fans, heads up: The Sonic Double Stuf Oreo Blast (also being introduced in May) is made with ice cream that's made with the cookie's cream filling. No twisting apart your chocolatey outsides anymore to get to the middle. We're in.

Get all the details at USA Toda

Japanese Burger King Launches Meat Monster: A 1,160 Calorie Burger

Photo: Burger King

First, Godzilla devoured Tokyo. Now Tokyo is about to take on the Meat Monster. With everyone so health conscious these days, it's hard to believe that Burger King is introducing a new sandwich, (in Japan only) that flies in the face of sensible eating: The Meat Monster. The website Opposing Views says the "aptly named sandwich" consists of two hamburgers, a chicken breast, two slices of cheese, three pieces of bacon, and, of course, lettuce, tomatoes, and onion.

Total calories: 1,160. That's more than half the daily recommended amount for a 40-year-old woman of average height and weight. (A regular Whopper has 670 calories.) Japanese customers can also personalize their Monster, adding teriyaki sauce, an egg or even a fish patty.

No word yet if the Monster will be available in the States, but we assume, if it is, that we'll be allowed to get creative, too. Maybe we can toss on some Spaghetti-Os or Cheez-Whiz to add a real American touch.

Is Porgy the Next Catfish?

A fish better known for its contribution to the American songbook than the American dinner plate is being touted as a sustainable alternative to grouper and red snapper. Southern conservationists are now championing red porgy, the fish that was once so ubiquitous on low-country docks that it lent its name to the hero of George Gershwin's opera, "Porgy and Bess."

While the effort has been slightly hampered by chefs' reluctance to tinker with unfamiliar proteins and the lingering social stigma associated with eating red porgy, backers believe the fish's taste and history make it an excellent candidate to diversify coastal diets.
"There is such immense diversity in the ocean that's edible, and, contrary to logic, we focus on just a few species," says Megan Westmeyer, coordinator of the South Carolina Aquarium's Sustainable Seafood Initiative. "What we need to do is widen the diversity of what we're eating."

To relieve pressure on overfished species, Westmeyer's organization is pushing eaters to embrace so-called "trash fish," which don't have the cachet -- or the threatened future -- of marquee varieties. But red porgy has emerged as a somewhat tougher sell than amberjack, wreckfish and triggerfish, and a regular menu item at leading Charleston eateries like McCrady's and FIG.

Red porgies swim close to the shore, well within the reach of hungry fishermen without fancy boats or elaborate tackle. Much like mullet, its silvery Southern cousin, red porgy quickly became known as a poverty fish.

"It was probably consumed by slaves, and could have had a cultural taboo," Westmeyer says. "The upper class didn't want to eat the same thing as the slaves."

Still, enough Carolinians and Georgians ate enough red porgy – about 2 million pounds of it annually when its popularity peaked in the 1980s – that regulating bodies intervened to limit its harvest. Westmeyer says the fish has recovered so quickly that it's now considered an environmentally sound choice.

Having mastered red porgy's management, fans of the fish must now persuade chefs to cook with it.

"To bring in a new fish and get customers to try it can take time," concedes Westmeyer, who says the restaurants she's approached are still figuring out how to pry profit from the delicate porgy, which has to be scaled rather than skinned.

"It's a very mild, flaky, white fish," Westmeyer says. "People enjoy it, but you need a skilled chef who can deal with the pinbones."

Fortunately for ocean caretakers like Westmeyer, there's no shortage of skilled chefs in Charleston, where porgy may once again rule Catfish Row.