Kombuchaya Khameleons

Snacktime: I think it’s funny that we both wanted a kombucha as soon as we read this story

Meatball:  I want a grape one.  It tastes like swampy grape soda.  I love it.

Snacktime: Are we supposed to be embarrassed now? I’m not. A million people drank GT Kombuchas last year. Kombucha Nation!

Meatball:   I saw a picture of Amanda Seyfried drinking GT Kombucha.

Snacktime: Is there any kombucha with bacon? You’ve been owning the bacon beat. Better get on that.

 Meatball:  I totally just googled that.  All I can find is “Kombucha is the new bacon.”  *hangs head*

 Snacktime:  Maybe someone really healthy needs to take it to the next level, like a kombucha terdrinken: kombucha with green tea and wheat grass. Then it will be ready for bacon.

 Meatball:  There are kombucha martinis, you know.

 Meatball:  I mean, alcohol *is* the gateway drug to bacon, or so I’ve heard.

Snacktime: Remember when I tried to make my own? People were like “It’s so easy!” NO. I had to brew all this tea and keep an vat of “mother” on the one square foot of counter space in my kitchen. And it was never fizzy enough. Turns out I only like my hippie drinks in yuppie packaging.

 Snacktime: PS I am drinking one right now. I think it is good we are talking about this out in the open. It’s like that time Madonna was eating a Fig Newton during and interview and said “This will prove to everyone that I’m not perfect,” or something. God I love her.

Meatball:  Wait – how does that prove that she’s not perfect?  I hate Fig Newtons.  Is there a fig kombucha, because that would be the ultimate in niche-y niche.

Snacktime: I think it was because she was a vegetarian at the time and it turned out they contained suet—and now we are back to bacon. The end.

Shut Up, Bacon VII


“Food and wine writers like to talk of “terroir,” or how a a food reflects local character. Well, eating this bacon is like being adopted by Dolly Parton. It tastes the way your flannel shirt would smell after you and Dolly sat around a campfire and she sang old Hank Williams songs and played guitar.”

No words.


Skirts on the Stove

Don’t have enough closet space? Join the damn club. Who amongst us does not trip over, like, three pairs of shoes each morning because we’ve got nowhere to store them?

But now The New York Post introduces us to the ladies and gentlemen who put our closet space woes to shame: “kitchenistas,” who use their stove, fridge and other kitchen stuff as extra storage for their wardrobe.

Kitchenistas Store Clothes And Other Items In Their Kitchen Appliances | The Frisky

What would Michael Pollan say? I mean, not only are these people not COOKING in their kitchens, they’re straight-up using them as storage. It’s like the anti-foodie (though still another fetish for conspicuous consumption).

I’m not gonna lie, though—with the amount that I use my kitchen, I could probably store my clothes in the oven and fridge as well.

-Julia Childless

Shut Up, Bacon VI

Sure, Foodies enjoy the many bacon products that are on the market now, but what about after the revolution?

When you’re living in your backyard shelter—formerly the chicken coop—and wishing you’d made good on that promise to move to Canada (socialized medicine and bacon), you’ll be happy you invested in some Tactical Bacon, guaranteed to last for ten years.


When the Home for the Range is a Mansion

Uhh, or something. One thing that makes me crazy is the way that, for many people, being a foodie is this socially-sanctioned form of conspicuous consumption. Like they get that it’s not cool right now (recession!) to be going out for crazy spendy meals every night or buying another Prada bag but it’s OK to blow thousands on cookware and Himalayan dandelion butter, because that’s nurturing and wholesome and part of being a food activist!

I get that the kitchn folks weren’t suggesting that their readers actually buy any of these obscenely expensive ranges but mostly appreciate them for how great-looking they are. (And they are gorgeous.) But this points up the way that so much foodie media falls into line with most other “lifestyle” media—the argument is that it’s supposed to be aspirational.

Aspirational is why people keep buying Martha Stewart and Men’s Health and watching the Food Channel even though they are never going to have washboard abs, faux bois hallways, or cook 7 straight nights of healthy, low-cost, quick, easy, delicious, and inspiring foods for their families. I get that we all need something to strive for, and I like a pretty picture as much as the next person but have you ever noticed the hamster wheel these images set you on? “Aspirational” might as well be “shopspirational”—you have to keep buying better cookware, going to newer restaurants, redoing the bathroom, and trying new workout regimens.

This is not a brilliant media insight. But when you combine the the narrative that you need to buy things to be a successful foodie with the pervasive implication that being a foodie is some kind of moral triumph, that it means you are evolved and sensual and in touch with the earth/yourself/several spices that lesser people have never heard of, then you can see how privilege and foodieism are linked in some uncomfortable ways.

As a brilliant friend of mine just said:

David Brooks (I KNOW) really did say it well in Bobos in Paradise — there is a segment of the populace who would never dream of flaunting designer labels on their clothes and who scorn mcmansions but they pour money into bathrooms and kitchens  — two private spaces in the home that involve the body — which they design not to look flashy but to be totally luxuriant, fetishy. It’s like the big trend for slate, everyone’s favorite fine-grained metamorphic rock. It’s earthy but expensive, it’s not shiny like granite, it has no sparkle. In kitchens, it’s not about appliances with tons of bells and whistles, but big bulky ones that look like they could be in restaurants, that make you feel like you could do anything a famous chef can do, but it’s GOOD to spend money on those things b/c you are CHERISHING and CARING for your hearth and family. It’s VIRTUOUS!

This blog isn’t about how foodies suck, or why foodies are bad. Hey, some of my best friends, etc. There are foodies who work in soup kitchens and food pantries and who are actively addressing food issues worldwide. I appreciate that so many are following us, even though we like to make fun of them, and I know we aren’t the first to raise some of these topics. But, in addition to how deeply funny foodies often are, they also offer us opportunities to talk about these things from time to time.

Church of Raj

I’m not the messiah, says food activist – but his many worshippers do not believe him | World news | The Guardian

Michael Pollan might be treated like the second coming by the new crop of eco-conscious foodies, but for my money Raj Patel is the real deal. And apparently there’s a small but serious religious group that believes he’s actually the living embodiment of their version of the messiah. No, really.

Patel wants nothing to do with being the messiah, but that doesn’t seem to stop this crowd.

On a serious note, though (I’m always full of those), Patel’s book Stuffed and Starved is the best book out there on the real problems with our global food system, and why people who can afford to do so eating artisan local produce and whatnot isn’t going to solve the climate problem, let alone the global hunger crisis.

-Julia Childless