As the nation reels from a year plagued by economic hardship, drastic fluctuations in the cost of living, and a presidential race that had everyone biting their fingernails down the last minute, we here at Peeled Snacks are taking a moment to sit down, pour a cup of coffee, stare out the window just for a moment, and ponder all the things for which we have to be thankful.  Luckily, they are many.

First of all, we can be thankful that people are actually enjoying our snacks more than ever.  We're here at Peeled Snacks working out little butts off to try and offer this certain kind of snack to the country, and frankly, we haven't always been secure in the notion that people at large actually WANT our snacks.  After all, there are a lot of crappy snacks out there that sell much better than Peeled Snacks.  Thankfully, this year more than any other, our treats have been welcomed in the marketplace, and we regularly get positive feedback from our fans.

Secondly, in spite of all this year's trouble in the marketplace, Peeled Snacks has grown in size, increasing both our revenue and our reach, finding new distribution through grocery and other chains, and getting into a lot more mouths.  That's very good for the company's bottom line, but also good for ME, because it lets me keep doing what I love.

Thirdly, we're thankful that, for the most part, the people in the food industry are really nice, motivated people.  Our peer companies are all populated by with-it, hip, thoughtful entrepreneurs, and we couldn't keep better company.  Getting into the food business isn't easy- it takes a certain kind of vision, and a powerful ability to keep one's eye on the horizon.  Luckily, we know a lot of great people with that skill.

But most of all, we have to be thankful for....

....Oren.

-Peeled Skinny

Posted by iankusc at 05:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

PHEW!!!  3 days spent underground at New York's Javits Center for the Summer Fancy Food Show will make even your toughest blogger go rather loopy.  It's been a doozy of a few days in the Peeled Snacks world, what with the debut of our new secret weapon (the PICKS line, no longer secret), the opening of Whole Foods Markets to our tasty snacks, and the execution of the Food World's most dangerous Bureaucrat.  But first things first....

Just a refresher course for the un-initiated- The Fancy Food Show gathers together hundreds if not thousands of manufacturers, trade associates, chefs, salesmen, and other food people under one roof (the Javits Center roof, that is) and lets them present, sell, and schmooze with whoever walks by.  Peeled Snacks exhibited for the 3rd time, which means that we're head-strong enough to put up with this trickiest of industries...

Allow me to first say that I'm SOOO glad that Peeled Snacks does what it does.  NO other companies were taking the Peeled Snacks route to glory at the Fancy Food Show, and shockingly few bothered to offer "healthy" anything.  We stand out in a field full of fattening gunk, functional "food", and "Old World" delicacies.  Not that there's anything wrong with Old World delicacies, particularly since they really make us look good.

While at the show, I tried to spot trends, I  tried to spot the next big thing, and I tried to see what was on the way out.  Goji Berries?  Not actually changing the world.  Red Bull Knock-0ffs?  A DANGEROUSLY crowded field.  Tea?  Thank HEAVENS we're not in Tea!!!  There's just too many good companies fighting in that arena.  Many of them I'm friendly with and like a lot.  But not all will make it.

I don't particularly like to boast, but I'm going to anyway.  Peeled Snacks ROCKS.  We have a novel product in its uniqueness, we offer something healthy and convenient, and we're doing it tastefully and with panache.  Damn, it's good to be part of Peeled Snacks.

It's even better to not hold the position of head of the Chinese version of the FDA.  OUCH!!!! 

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Tis the season again for wedded bliss, or at least "Wedding" bliss.  Sweet weather breeds nuptials like doggies breed puppies, and this past weekend we at Peeled Snacks had not 1 but TWO weddings to attend, and at which to "Represent".   The two events, though spectacularly dissimilar, what with their sonic and dance variations, definitely had two things common- Love, and FOOD.  I'll deal with one of the two.  Guess which.

Actually, it's kind of unfair to compare the two weddings, since one was a Pakistani/Indian fusion (complete w ith family dances, salwar kameezes, and henna), and the other an Intalian-American/Motor-City hybridization (complete with, well, tuxedos and booze).  The food at each event blew my mind- the South-Asian affair offering soul-southing spicing, and the Detroiticized event taking place in East Coast Organic-food Central, Woodstock,

Peeled Snacks found representation at each event (we do a LOT of weddings), though there too, same snack, different worlds: we were in the Goodie Bags of the Catskill Wedding, but our dried fruit actually made it into the CEREMONYof the Pakistani ceremony where dancing girls present gifts.  Our president festooned the bride with, I believe, Figsated.   Too bad the tradition doesn't include sharing the gifts with all of your rich cousins.

The meals filled my belly marvelously, but a fascinating discussion brewed around the Catskills buffet table when we learned that the Beef was "Organic".  Organic Beef has certainly been turning my head since speanding the Winter in California (where it would seem that the cows are treated so well that they actually slaughter themselves out of gratitude).  Shocked I was, yes SHOCKED, when a fellow attendee said, "No way man, I don't eat Organic Meat".  "Why not? I asked.....

...."Because it's INHUMANE"....

The arguement: USDA organic certification for beef demands that they be free of anti-biotics.  Anti-biotics are used to keep people (and animals healthy).  By changing their herds to certified organic, ranchers are denying their cattle proper health care.  It's like Organic has gone past "Health Food" into the realm of Christian Scientist Fundamentalism....

The belly of the argument proposed by this sensible post-hippie at the buffet table was that organic has gone too far, and that federal regulation has mired the movement in faulty science, as exemplified by not protecting cattle from disease for some rash ideology.  The counter argument is that antibiotics were over-used on cattle and showing up in meat and mill.  The counter-counter arguement is that anti-biotics were overused because of the abuse of Bovine Growth Hormones.... 

Fascinating.  This is certainly something to present to Nina Planck or Michael Pollan, but the takeaway is clear:  no more organic meat for me.  Just hormone free meat that's been grass-fed....

I think there are, like, 5 cows in the world that fit that description.  Sigh....

Posted by iankusc at 04:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I want to thank everybody that came to our Plu-What? Thickens Party and made it such a success.  For those that missed it, you passed up on yummy drinks (the "Aprium" was a delectably sweet hit), tasty nibbles (the Fondue was Fon-Duper), and one of the most inspiring outpourings of creativity and imagination that I've seen since the White House tried to sell the Iraq Invasion.

If you're not "in the know", along with last night's carousing and goofiness, we played a fun little game called "Peel-a-thon", where party-goers were asked to invent their own Peeled Snack Mix using any ingredients that they wanted, and give the snacks a name.  Prizes are awarded for the Most Creative, for the "Most Likely Mix to be the NEXT Peeled Snack", and for the "Naughtiest."

Just a quick survey, which of those three prizes  do you think had the most entries, Hmm?  You think most people would want to be creative?  Do you think that all of our party goers would be really eager to help us with the next great Peeled Snack?  Well, if you were, perhaps, expecting our friends, clients, partners and party-crashers to mostly try to come up with dirty, dirty, naughty, filthy mixes, YOU'RE RIGHT!

Want proof?  How about BLUEBALLS, courtesy of Angie, with Blueberries, Boysenberries, Huckleberries, and Pecans.

How about "Great Sexpectations", a fallocentric mix which Catherine thinks should include banana, cucumber,  coconuts, and kumquats (what, no carrots?)

Or (and this one had TWO people dream it up), what would you call a mix of Durian, Starfruit, Coconut, Rambutan, and Longan?  How about "Me Love You Longan Time...." 

There certainly were some very family friendly mixes with clever names, like "Sour Power", "Pink Flamingo", and the VERY clever (though already taken by a booze brand) Southern Comfort (with its Pecans, Pumpkins, Persimmons, Dates, and Chocolate- Thanks May).  Some had clear but odd inspirations, like Rachel's Car-Talk inspired "Herasmus B. Dragon" (centered, naturally, around Dragon-Fruit).

But when it comes down to it, we have to tip our hats to the following SUPER-Yummy, mega-inspired varieties.... 

Most Creative: Kirsten Osur

Chowabunga! (hot peppers, chocolate, avocado, persimmon)

Most likely to be the next Peeled Snack: Bones Rodriguez

Spring Break (pineapple, bananas, coconut, walnuts, cashews)

Naughtiest: Christian Miller

Honey-Dew Me (Honeydew melon, lychee, mango, passion fruit, currant)

I want to point out some wonderful honorable mentions:

Most versatile Brand name: Sam's "Oh What a Peeling"

Most attractive to hypochondriacs: Chris's "Anti-Everything"

Most likely to get us into trouble with the law: Todd's "Chase the Dragon"

Oddest fixation: Matt's insistence that every one of his mixes (and he submitted several) include Peanut Butter

Most Inspired (and runner-up for Most Creative): Rachel's "Rock-a-Mole", with Tomato, Avacado, Jalapeno, Red Onion, and Pistachios

Most likely to get us sued for copyright infringement: Phyllis's "Fruit Loops"

Simplest: Jared's "Jerky Date", which consists of Jerky, and Dates

Lewdest: Jessie's "One Night Stand", with its Dates, Macadmia Nuts, Passion Fruit, and Kumkwats (what, no raw oysters?)

And finally, Oddest Name: Tara's "Tropical Totem" with its banana, Passion fruit (okay, both tropical), Almonds (not tropical) and Marshmallows (uh, not.... totems....?)

Thanks for everyone who played.  Prizes will be sent to the winners, but when you think about it, aren't we all winners?

Thanks to Rick and Soho Experiential for organizing it, all the great people at Honey for helping out, to Meryl for being a total bad-ass, and all of you for being so good to us! 

Keep Peeling, 

Peeled Skinny 

(P.S. Shock-olate is going to Antarctica this summer to research global warming and to keep its cool.  If you want some, you'd better buy it by May 15th.  It's scheduled to return from the land of many penguins in September.  So there) 

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First things first- "Insider" took me to task for comparing a Pyramid Scheme to Network Marketing, and he/she (I don't know who "Insider" is) was right to do so.  Amway ain't Albania, indeed.  Still, a little bit of surfing around Network Marketing sights and you find a debate within the community about how to not be constantly recruiting sales reps.  If Network Marketing really is so much better than Pyramid marketing, then why are so many Pyramid veterans doing Network Marketing?  Watch your backs, kids....

But on to better things, like THE PLU-WHAT? PARTY!!!  To celebrate the success of our latest flavor, we're throwing a Party next week at New York's newest Meat Packing District lounge space, Honey Bar at 243 W 14th St. between 7th and 8th.  It'll be a blast- good company, grand drinks, silly games, hip tunes, and oodles of bodies happily honed courtesy of a good lifestyle, regular exercise, and a healthy diet (of which Peeled Snacks is certainly a part).

The Party runs from 6 till whenever, and if you RSVP to rsvp@peeledsnacks.com, the first drink's on me.

The second drink's on YOU..... 

Posted by iankusc at 03:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

The Peeled Snacks California tour took a turn South last week as we pointed ourselves towards, beautiful, warm Los Angeles, which, in spite of its name, is angel free 40 years running.  The last angel there was run over by a car while trying to earn his wings by saving the soul of Edmund Brown, who went on to lose the Governorship of California to Reagan.  Things have sucked ever since.

It was a very eventful week, what with the Natural Foods Expo West going down in Anaheim, and all sorts of meetings with Lo-Cal-So-Cal foodies.  We walked the Anaheim show, because actually sitting in a stall gets boring.  Walking past all those companies'booths offering "the NEXT Omega 3" (or whatever neutraceutical they happened to be peddling) sometimes make me wonder if I'm in the wrong business. 

Tasting that crap, on the other hand, made me think, "yes, it's true, Peeled Snacks ROCKS!"

Touring the LA countryside makes me wonder what that landscape looked like before every square foot of it was covered with strip malls, highways, and aparment complexes.  It'd surely fry the eyeballs to see a before and after picture of Pasadena with the last 50 years in between the photos.  But then again, it fries the eyes looking at the city's heart breaking, bleeding heart colored sunsets (color courtesy of all those bloody cars.  Sigh).

Others surely have discussed the differences between Northern and Southern California, but I'll take up 3 important points before leaving it be...

1: Southern Californian buildings have heating units.  Why the more Southerly city has sounder thermostats, I'll never understand, but it certainly made mornings more pleasant.

2: Northern California has better food, better menus, and better grocery stores.  Gelson's is for safe food from big companies.  Guess you won't be finding Peeled Snacks there anytime soon.

3: Southern Californian 20 and 30-somethings are "hipper", and "hotter", but Northern Californians are better looking.  That is to say, look across West Hollywood and all those prancing Brangelina wannabees smile dashingly and flip their hair oh so perfectly.  But it's a LOT more fun to scope out the looks of the Mission District's denizens, or play "who's the Crunchiest?" in East Bay.  Weirdos entertain infinitely more than actor types.

Of California in general, I've this crass generalization to offer:

The Good:  The food is superb, the ingredients fresh, and the trends momentous

The Bad: The traffic is obscene, with cars everywhere, utterly heedless of the environment 

The Ugly: Mix the great food with the driving (and its implied lack of exercise) and you get an uglier me- I probably put on 10 pounds this trip.  YUCK!!!

More round-up soon.  I just gotta say some thank yous....

Thank you Jonathan and Ells for putting us up in your phat flat.  It was a delight....

Thank you Rena for sharing your home and your dog, who I miss VERY much...

Thank you Dana for showing us the sights, and being such a thoughful foodie...

Thank you Ellen for being such a fun friend, taking us to Skywalker Ranch, and putting up with your brother, who should call you more often...

And, most importantly, THANK YOU CASSIE, for keeping the ship running so smoothly while we were wandering Westward.  You TRULY rock....

Ian, Peeled not quite so skinny.... 

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Last night, the Peeled Team went to check out a showdown between Berkeley journalism professor Michael Pollan (he of The Omivore's Dilemma), and Whole Foods CEO John Mackey, who Pollan ferociously took to task in his New York Times Bestseller.  The event took place at The University of Caifornia, Berkeley's 2,000 seat Zellerbach Hall, which usually hosts theater and dance and opera and the like.  Last night, it hosted a power point presentation and some chit chat.

But rarely has chit-chat been SOOO entertaining.  We were treated to about 2 hours worth of back and forth from two of the most influencial foodies of our time.  Hmmm.  There's an interesting notion.  "Our Time" is one that has room enough for several foodies.  No more rabid focus on Julia Childs or Alice Waters.  Now the pot is thickened with a multitude of opinions about just how much food should be in food, how organic is organic, and what's the future of fish in the sea.

But the evening started out with a lecture on hunting and gathering.  Huh?  When Pollan gave up the stage to Mackey, Mr. CEO put before us a macro-history of eating.  I suppose in some respect he was trying to frame the "big picture", but more than anything he was trying to gain a little sympathy.  He had, after all, wandered into a room full of people who had read Pollan's partly-anti-Whole Foods book.  And he was, after all, in Berkeley California, where hissing is an art form.

Sympathy he earned, through plain speaking, broad perspective, clear points, and a cheerfully intellectual take on all that we eat.  Going in I certainly carried none of the anti-Mackey prejudices bared by most of the audience, but walking out I considered myself a Mackey-fan. 

After the slide show, which also gave Mackey a chance to curry some favor thanks to his anouncement of a couple of bold initiatives for foodies and bleeding hearts, the two sat down for a tet-a-tet.  Pollan asked some civil questions (and some politely uncivil ones), but it took a while for a real conversation to get going.  They agree on a lot, like the dreadful state of the meat industry, and the disasterous consequences of over fishing.  But agreements make for boring talk.

The battlezones were mostly about the consequences of big business organics, which Mackey believes can be done responsibly, but which Pollan assumes will quickly dilute the value of Organic.  In an interesting concession, Pollan imagined what the world would be like if Coca-Cola when Organic (it'd be better.  Only slightly.  Mostly on corn farms.  Corn farms still suck).

For us at Peeled Snacks, such an engagement is better than the Super Bowl or the Oscars or the Premier of Indiana Jones part IV.  Here are two big thinkers bashing their heads together, chomping at each other, yet finding common ground, all in the public arena.  Thanks so much to the new Peeled Snacks team member, Matt, for snagging us the tickets.  He had a dentist's appointment, so he couldn't go.  Boy did he get the lousy part of that deal.

Both speakers really took to task the American meat industry, and I walked out of there seriously considering a return to vegetarianism (which, for the record, almost killed my northern-european rooted self).  Yet Mackey eloquently spoke to my reaction by saying that his consumers don't want to know all the terrible things there are to know about food-  there are so few options for getting good, responsibly grown meat, yet dining without meat would really suck.

The biggest, most interesting battle, and the only one which actually elicited hisses from the audience, occured around the COST of organic and local food.  Asked what Whole Foods can do for poor people with poor eating habits, Mackey tepidly offered that Americans are getting richer, and soon they'll all be able to buy all the organic, locally grown, nutrient rich, fair trade food that they want.

Boy did he look at the floor a lot when he was rolling out that spiel, and the Berkeley audience gave him a severe hissing for it.  Let's face it- health food is a luxury right now.  The cheapest thing to eat is corn syrup (thanks to government subsidies), which will keep you alive but will rot your brain.  To assume that eventually the huge gap between wealthy and poor in America will just naturally close is akin to assuming that pigs will one day fly.  Sure, it's possible, but it'll take a HECK of a lot of catapults.

Afterward the show we joined up with fellow foodie and friend Dana, the Queen of Goat Milk Ice Cream.  She offered this interesting insight into John Mackey:

He's a Vegan.

The nation's most influential grocer, a man who impacts decisions that determine the fates of MILLIONS of animals per month, doesn't even eat cheese.  I find that a scary, scary thought.  Sure, he's right- the meat industry scares the be-jeezus out of me too...  But I don't want to give it up.  Sigh

Ian "Peeled Skinny" K 

Posted by iankusc at 01:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

If you know me (or my blog babbling), you know that I've a weakness for sodas, particularly the super-funky, fruity, bitter, or odd-ball variety.  I'll take as strong a ginger-beer as you can find me, or as fruity a grapefruit soda as you can concoct (and oh, can Fizzy-Lizzy make one fruity grapefruit soda).  In NYC, I know exactly which shops dabble in the funky sodas, but here in Cali?  I just didn't know where to go for the odd, the ambitious, the enticing soda or "pop"....

Then I discovered "The Berkeley Bowl"....

What do you look for in a grocery store?  Perhaps you look for variety?  Or maybe you look for your particular brands.  Maybe you're price concious.  Maybe you want all organic.  Do you like to discover new stuff?  In need of bulk?  Curious about the butcher shop?  Have high standards for veggies?  Are you (like my dear friend Eirik) a cheese addict?  What if you're into ALL these things? 

I kind of am.  I like my organic meats and produce, but I also like inexpensive bulk cereals and grains.  I know exactly what kind of canned tomatoes I like, but I want to have a lot of options when it comes to olive oil and tea.  The "Bowl" caters to ALL my needs in a bewildering, blinding fashion.  It's enormous, yet it has a density of substance (unlike, say, your box-store grocery, or anything in New York short of Fairway).

When I first walked into the Bowl, I was flabbergasted.  Piles of freshly baked bread loomed overhead as a maze of wines lurked behind, and aisles upon aisles of canned goods beckoned, while an army of veggies waited in the wings.  I felt like Theodore Davis must have felt when her first uncovered King Tutankhamen's tomb.  So much to SEE! So much to DO!  So many MUMMIES to FIGHT!

No, wait.  Scratch that last part.  Though there were a LOT of "Mommies" (Berkeley, much like NYC, seems to be experiencing a sizable Baby-Boom).  Frankly, I was in heaven, and what was supposed to be a quick trip to pick up some rice-milk turned into a veritable ORGY of shelf-gawking.  I dare-say that I've never, NEVER, seen such a perfect arrray of produce in all my life.  And anyone that knows me well will tell you that I'm a total produce SLUT!

But that's the great thing about California, isn't it?  You can pick up a locall grown, organic orange pepper for $1.09 per pound (and I did), and buy mushrooms by the wheel-barrow full (if you happen to own a wheel barrow).  Considering the cold-snap that my co-workers in New York are enduring, I can't rightly complain about the San Fran weather anymore, but if I COULD, I'd have to say that the produce makes it all worth it.

Now, if you'll forgive me, I'm going to go pick up some grapefruit soda.  And some carrots.  And some cereal.  And some lamb chops.  And some cheddar cheese.  And some olives.  And some...

...you get the point... 

Posted by iankusc at 04:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Ever been to San Francisco?  Peeled Snacks trucked out here for last week's Winter Fancy Food show wilth all of our New York muchachos enviously braying about how we were so lucky to be heading off to the balmy weather of California. 

You know what?  California is COLD, a special kinf od COLD, a COLD that seeps into your clothes and nose and fingers, and for a moment makes you think that you're not cold, but then gives you a terrible COLD.  Sure, New York's chilly, but at least there people are expected to wear gloves.  Here, cold weather attire is an extra handkerchief and a frienship bracelet.

Furthermore, in the East we have enough cold to realize that cold requires treatment.  We weather proof our windows and install functioning heating devices because we realize that, yes, cold sucks.  But in the Shangri-La that is California, the windows all seem to be terribly drafty and the heating units warm up a good 3 sqare feet each.  But don't worry, if you get chilly here, you can always borrow a mood ring.

So we brought our tasty treats out to San Fran, and (shockingly enough) they seem to have been very warmly accepted by the chilled hands of Californians (sorry, I'll stop with that now).   The Fancy Food show here is about a third the size of New York's July version, though it attracts a different crew.  Fewer Europeans, more "foodies", and almost no charmless New York style sharks (the kind who ask the price before tasting anything).

Naturally, we have the utmost confidence that our snacks will do smashingly out here, since Caifornians are known for their active lifestyles, their appreciation of good ingredients, and spectacularly warm weather (only one of those is a misconception). We were pleasantly surprised, though, when at the show we recieved oodles of orders.  Usually we shake hands, talk a lot, and the orders come later.  It seems that California was desperately in need of a good snack.

We went out there riding a glorious review courtesy of our friends at The Nibble.  It's always encouraging when a journalist really understand what we're trying to do and conveys it.  Such a sentiment we're hoping to find on this Western shore.  Peeled Snacks, as tasty as they are, just will never be a cheap and disposable as Pringles.  Thank heavens....

After the show ended on Tuesday, the Peeled Snacks team was desperately in need of a good meal, so at the invitation of a delightful and lovely new friend from LaLoo's Goat Milk Ice Cream (you know who you are, DANA), we swept down to the Mission disctrict's "Gratitude" Raw Food restaurant for a truly unique Californian gustatory experience.  The vegan menu is all prepared at temperatures at or below 118 degrees, which must make for a wonderful cool kitchen within to work.

It also made for some wonderful tastes (the cocunut soup was de-LISH), though the meal went terribly with the sake someone foolishly ordered (a fruity white would have been much better suited).  Perhaps due to my unfamiliarity with the rawness of the food, the uncooked nature of it meant that the next day my body was, ahem, "cooking" it (with gas heat, not electric).  Still, it was a marvelous experience, and Dana (you know who you are!) totally rocks.

We'll be out in California for a few weeks getting everything going here, so my next few entries will try to convey what it's like for a New Yorker (and former Southern Californian) to put up with the heat waves of San Francisco in January and February (that's the last dig, I PROMISE).  I'll try to be balanced and fair, but it's tough not to miss New York tremendously and take it out on San Fran.  Luckily, where I'm living has a beautiful dog (Sylvie) and its very own orange tree.  Life could be worse.  Life could, after all, be cold.

Posted by iankusc at 01:39 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Tonight, Peeled Snacks officers will descend upon a yearly holiday party hosted by a dear friend in honor of her dear husband's birthday.  The theme of the party isn't the holidays or the solstice or anything of that sort.  Rather, said husband suffers from a "sweet tooth".  No, I take that back.  Not a sweet "tooth", but sweet "teeth".  Whether or not 32 teeth remain in his mouth I can't say, but I DO know that whatever IS there CRAVES desserts.

And so we'll trundle down to Brooklyn with a treat in hand and bask in the wondrous sweet treats abounding.  Surely there'll be rice crispy treats, and brownies galore.  I expect to eat a cookie or two, and no doubt egg-nog (the SWEET kind) will be in attendance.  Cheesecake, perhaps, and cakes will tempt, though the birthday boy's a butterscotch lover, and butterscotch has many unpredictable delivery boys....

Notice what I'm not mentioning, what mostly WON'T be available, lest we bring it?  Dried fruit & nut snacks will NOT be there, almost guaranteed.  In lieu of anything that's remotely, you know, "healthy", there'll be gobs of things definitively "UN"-healthy.  Chocolate chip this-es, marshmallow thats, sugar-coated honey (and likely honey-coated sugar), and no doubt PLENTY of now illegal trans-fats.

Likely I could lament long and languidly upon such culinary sins (there will be NO crudite'), and chastise all holiday parties for their propensity to pack on pounds.  I could join my mayor (that Bloomberg guy) in lambasting all poly-unstaturate-saturated soiree sinners, or assault wassailers for alcohol abusings.  And I might remind all cookie cookers, intending to leave a plate of pecan-chocolate-chip wonders out for Santa that he probably already has type 2 diabetes...

But no.  Tis the season to Eat, Drink, and be Merry.  That's what this time of year is for, when the Sun curls down to the end of the Earth, the trees are all bare, and the cold winds blow (warmer and warmer every year, THANKS Al Gore!), it's time to turn out attentions indoors towards our friends and family, and towards our own insides- our hearts, our bellies, our livers....

Seasons like this help us understand the true meaning of eating healthy.  If all we ever ate was wheat-grass and rice cakes, we might fool ourselves into thinking them tasty.  After years of such a diet, imagine the trauma of tasting a truffle- if the stomach survived it, the head would surely explode from the pleasure.  Better to have regular chocolate dosages to avoid such a fate....

A Happy Holiday to all, and a special Happy Birthday to Lowell Kaplan, birthday boy, sweet tooth "sufferer", and daddy to one HECK of a cute little girl.  Tomorrow's all Winter, so from here on, every day is brighter.  Thank goodness....

EN, Peeled Skinny, but this season, rather happily fattened up 

Addendum:

It's the morning after said birthday party, and I'm required by law and honor to state that there WAS dried fruit in attendance.  Figs, dates, and apricots abounded, though the organic apricots reminded me of why we use sulfites in ours- organic apricots don't take like apricots, they taste like mollasses!  And they certainly DON'T compare to the lovely hostess' BANANA PUDDING!!! (yum)

It was a wonderful night, filled with great gabbing with meaty people.  It was NOT, however, the egg-nog fueled Solstice Schnockerrer that I was expecting.  Such are the symptoms of maturity- alcohol fuels fewer feuds, fewer fun (I'd say "less", but it doesn't alliterate).  Instead, people we just talk and eat, and insure a salvagable tomorrow.  While I'm heartbroken at the loss of mirth, I can't help but see the sense of it.  Sigh....

Happy Winter... 

Posted by iankusc at 10:21 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I LOVE Halloween.  If it's not my favorite holiday, that's only because I'm Irish, and Joyce's Bloomsday is June 16th.  I like the idea that for one gerat day of the year, everyone in America and elsewhere (minus overly-religious wet blanket types) get to try to SCARE one another, or at least out-glam one another.  Tonight, kids will crawl all over their cities and towns searching for sweets and frights, though most will hope to find the former and avoid the latter.

Weeners.  Frights are what make Halloween special, what make it distinct from the other "candy" holidays (Valentines Day and Easter which, I'm told, is not ONLY about candy).  Halloween, coming as it does right after Daylights Savings Time wraps up for the season, marks a sort of cultural "Return to Nighttime," a time when peoples interest turn away from fun, frolicky daytime activities towards nocturnal nonsense and, yes, naughtiness.

Halloween has naturally been attacked as a celebration of sin, a savoring of carnality, an orgy of lechery, and so on.  To all those who make such accusations, I retort, succinctly, YOU ARE CORRECT!  Halloween is a night of the year when you can take a moment and be nasty, be naughty, get dirty, get dangerous, and get away with it.  It's not a time to really truly act bad and break the laws and stuff.  No, that's the day after and only in Detroit.  Halloweens just a time to revel in the fact that naughtiness abounds, it's a human trait, and mostly we act with dignity and sense.

Halloween has likewise been attacked as the "Devil's Holiday," or a time to worship Satan, whoever that is.  Who that is, according to the Book of Job, Ecclesiastes, and the Book of Isaiah, is a creation of the almighty, and party of the whole program.  The word Satan comes from the simple butchering of the Hebrew word for adversary.  And yet many a zealot will blame Satan for this or that or whatever.  Certainly they'll blame Satan or the Devil for Halloween.  POPPYCOCK!  Don't blame anybody for Halloween that isn't associated with candy industry.

I'll not waste a key-stroke lambasting candy.  Say what you will about your dentist bills or the diabetes epidemic, but there's absolutely no arguing with a snickers bar.   It's been a long time since I watched Saturday Morning Cartoons, but I sure hope that Reeses Peanut Butter Cups still has those commercials where a somehow a Republican eating from a jar of Peanut Butter and a Democrat eating a chocolate bar get into a fist fight and somehow invent those sublime little discs.

Halloween manifests the recognition of sin principally through candy, giving kids a chance to gobble up something that most of the year most of them are denied.  Obviously, as a representative of a healthy snack company, I'm supposed to talk about how candy's terrible for kids, and how everybody should be giving away Peeled Snacks instead.  I certainly agree with both of those statements, the first because there's no denying it, the second because I'm a self-serving goof.

But you want to know the truth?  Take candy out of Halloween and you MISS THE POINT!  Take sin and gore away from October 31st, and all you've got is the responsibility to dress up.  A friend of mine who shall remain nameless and awesome says that Halloween is an excuse for girls to dress super-sexy.  They can dress up like any professional, be it a nurse or a teacher or a firefighter or a superhero or whatever, so long as its supersexy.  Its an excuse to, for one night, let it ALL hang out, and then go back to being good little girls and boys.

 Lets all get back to being good little girls and boys TOMORROW.  Tonight, LET IT ALL HANG OUT!!

A Halloween ode to Shel Silverstein... 

There's poison in the apples, dear

and spider in the gin.

Your costume's lined with razor blades

to help you get more thin.

I wrapped a cobra round your hat

and hypnotized your granny.

So when the cobra bites your head,

your granny will kick your fanny!

There's booby traps all round the lieu

and trap-doors in your closet.

I hooked a blood bag up to the sink

so don't turn on the faucet!

Werewolves came to my house last night,

I gave them your address.

They asked if you were tasty meat,

I told them all, "oh YES!"

A ghost I met had lost his house,

when witches burned it down.

I told them all just where you live,

the address and the town.

Vampire coffins in your garage

will soon be opened up.

They quietly sneak in your room

and on your blood they'll sup!

You might ask why I tell you this.

I just thought that you should know.

Oh, for one other reason-

You're STANDING ON MY TOE!!! 

Posted by iankusc at 12:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

This past weekend, in honor of a good friend of mine's impending nuptials, I and several other chums jumped on planes from verious corners of the lower 48 and shuttled ourselves, sans carryon hygenic products, to the strange, fantastic, rococo playland that is Las Vegas, Nevada.  I had never before found my way into Sin City's city limits, thanks mostly to the fact that the last time I extensively travelled the Southwest I was under 21 years old.  That, and I'm cheap.

Well, certainly Vegas has many, ahem, virtues which ought to be extoled- the design is outlandish, the entertainment is suitably over-the-top, the air is (artificially) oxygen rich, and the drinks, thankfully, are free.  Clearly there's something for everyone in Las Vegas, since there's a sign on the way into town that tells you so- "Las Vegas: Something 4 Everyone".

Indeed , there's certainly something for me in Las Vegas, or at least the Las Vegas vicinity- in celebration of my buddy's waning bachelordom, some of us jumped in a minivan and headed West, OUT of the city, towards the surrounding desert.  Our goal was the Red Rocks state park, a beautiful stretch of rusted-iron infused canyons and cliffs that blew our minds, and NOT our wallets.

But what, you ask, does this have to do with Peeled Snacks?  Gambling, debauchery, and free drinks are a regular part of the Peeled Snacks business model, but my interest today doesn't pertain to such crucial fundamental aspects of business.  Furthermore, canyon walls, however beautiful, simply do not apply.  How, then, am I to turn this travel blog into a snack blog, you wonder?

Granted, this is slightly eliptical, but imagine, if you will, a desert.  Not the Sahara style desert of endless dunes, mind you- the American Southwest version, with its rock and dust and heartbreaking, empty vistas.  Through such a landscape we drove while making our way to the literally named Red Rocks Park, and I imagine that throughout most of history, such a landscape remained basically empty, barring the occasional lizard, tumbleweed, or compulsive gambler.  But you know what I found hiding in yon desert, lurking alien in an alien landscape, trying to blend in like a chameleon yet sticking out like the middle-finger buttes of Monument Valley?

 Tract Housing.

Driving out of Vegas, we passed mile after mile of last that should belong to an empty, barren desert basin, but which was filled with little, sand colored houses.  I was shocked to see how many houses there were in a land that spent, oh, 18,000 years devoid of human inhabitants besides a smattering of Paiute indians.  Even freakier to me was that for miles, all the houses were basically the exact same design, as if the urban planners had deemed the outskirts of Vegas to be "tan box country".

What a terrible idea.  What a miserable, awful, foolish, dangerous, disasterous approach to urban planning, for which the city council of Vegas should be vigorously flogged.  Though the name Las Vegas means "the Meadow," it's a DESERT.  The Colorado River, running so close to Las Vegas, would be able to support a population of close to a million people, but the river is now diverted far away- as far as phoenix and California's Imperial Valley.  Between agricultural needs and splitting the Southwestern regional water bill, Vegas has little to no room to grow.

All that housing out there in the desert speaks of the radical growth that Vegas has seen in the last 10 years.  It's the fastest growing large city in America, and thousand of people arrive there every month seeking their fortunes.  But such growth is completely unsustainable.  Babylonia used to be a verdant paradise, but too much growth turned it into the wasteland that is now Iraq.  Vegas' growth could have a similar effect, only the place STARTED OUT as a desert!

Unmanaged growth, be it in urban centers, agriculture, or business, makes for disasters.  However much money may be being made in Vegas now, is that more or less than the cost to fix all the mistakes that are being made?  I suspect that it's much, much less.

Okay, that still had barely anything to do with snacks, but it's what was on my mind.  Sigh...

 An ode to Vegas:

Cha-Ching used to be the war-cry

of Buffalo hunting Apache braves

when they finally sprang from behind boulders

to drive their woolly, wholely useful prey

over the cliffs of the Valley of Las Vegas.

All the bison got bagged and baked,

and the Apache all succumbed to the bugs

brought over by the bug that bit the fleas

that bit the Spanish on their way to Eldorado.

The words Cha-ching still echo loudly

Through the valley of the Meadow,

And somehow the mythical Lost City of Gold

has been made real in an empty desert,

brick by gold brick, 

One rococo Casino at a time. 

Posted by iankusc at 09:00 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I'm swimming right now in the warm, fuzzy glow of a wedding this weekend- my dear sister-in-law (sister to Peeled Snacks' president & CEO) and my dear friend got married, making for a DREAM of an in-law situation, and scoring me some SERIOUS points with my sis-in-law, since I introduced them.  I could wax poetic about the beauty of the wedding, the loveliness of the bride, the delight of the dancing, the bounty of the beverages, but instead I'm going to talk about the goodie bags...

What?  Everybody knows what a beautiful bride looks like- you don't need to READ about it, do you?  She was a knockout, all right?  Nothing more need be said.

What needs discussion is that in her goodie bags she included Peeled Snacks.  Every guest got to try our treats, and though most had already (this was a wedding for the family of the company owner), some hadn't in a little while, and some few hadn't ever.

Now Peeled Snacks I still consider to be a bit of a discovery food.  That is to say, right now dried fruit and nuts aren't a regular part of the American diet, and many snackers resist opening their hearts and mouths to, you know, food with wrinkles.  But when they open the bag and taste it, they "discover" it.  At this weekend's wedding, many people "discovered" or "re-discovered" Peeled Snacks, and I got to witness it.  Nothing gives me more professional satisfaction than seeing people pop open those bags, bite into an apple slice and go wide-eyed with delight.

This wasn't the first wedding that Peeleded Snacks have been in, only the first such wedding that I attended.  We're also poised to be in a slew of weddings this Fall, all of which makes perfect sense to me- I delight in imagining all those well-dressed wedding guests stumbling back to their hotel rooms faced with the munchies, only to "discover" just how good Peeled Snacks make you feel when you've drunken too much champagne and/or danced to one Isley Brothers song too many.

     Poem for Meital, my sweet sister

I wonder if my eyes' corners hide

two cherry red tear ducts each-

one for the bitter tears, sad and salty;

the other for the tears bucked

by the sweet of days

such as you make, by the wonder

and sweep of bliss and the sublime.

I swear, the tears of the bitter ducts,

which may or may not lurk in my head,

taste a different taste, A sea taste,

lashing endlessly, swallowing, unforgiving;

the other taste of fresh dew.

Can someone know the difference

looking at a glistening face,

which kind of water there flows?

Posted by iankusc at 02:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

So last week someone "mentioned" that my Peeled Skinnies were getting a little, shall we say, off topic. Apparently I'm supposed to be writing about all things snack oriented- the snack industry, marketing snacks, snack nutrition, the dangerous world of snacks espionage... All of that's great to write about, and occasionally important, but these days it sure seems like there's some white elephants in the room that need SERIOUS consideration. Far more consideration, in fact, than high-fructose corn syrup (devil that it is) need suffer. But fine, this is peeledSNACKS.com, so let's get to it...

Okay, so, snacks... I caught a great concert last week at New York's famous Summer Stage in Central Park.  Headlined by Canadian power-pop indie super-band the New Pornographers, the concert took place under a burning Summer sunset, and the bands literally played to the changing weather (a heat wave was just breaking as the bands were playing).  My new favorite band of all time ever, the Frames (they're from Ireland, sort of emo by way of U2 arena rockdom), started out the evening playing to rain showers.  Southwestern indie-mariachi stalwarts Calexico followed up drably, aside from some serious spice added by some flamenco maestro they'd picked up on a recent tour through Spain.  New Pornographers suffered from no sound check (they sounded aweful, truly), and an under-used Neco Case (as if she could ever be over-used), bet generally rocked the evening nicely.

 Now Summer Stage this summer is promoted by Snapple and Stella Artois, along with some other non-food companies.  Without going into the merits or defecits of those two companies, I'll offer up that I HOPE that neither of them had any say in the food that was available.  Summer Stage does have two small eateries with which they seek to feed the kids... only, all that they serve is hamburgers, fries, and pretzels.

Sigh.  Young people, dudded up for a fantastic night out in the park, dancing to hipster tunes and flirting with each other glore, and all that they have to eat is a bunch of nutrition-free food that's more or less designed to make them fat and sick.  And people wonder what's wrong with youth today.

Here's what's wrong with youth today- cheap food is TOO CHEAP.  The Summer Stage is clearly selling crappy food because it yields the best profit margins- hamburgers and french fries are somewhat cheap to make, and all the kids love that stuff.  But the overall cost to kids (and their livers, and their gym instructors) doesn't quite get factored in.  The culinary norm for our culture seems famously wretched- high fat, high carb, low nutrition bunk.   And we wonder why kids aren't doing well in school?

So, to whit, the secret to advancing our culture and reclaiming our place as the greatest nation on Earth is by selling only healthy snacks at rock concerts.

Today's poem:

Fries need more Catsup.

What? I don't understand you?

Oh.  Needs more Ketchup!

Hipsters scoff at rain.

Lightning wipes out the whole band?

They scoff at that too.

I feel my liver.

Late night, it whispers to me...

"Please leave me alone..." 

Posted by iankusc at 10:16 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

So this past week we had the sad (ahem) duty of heading out to Pacific Northwest in search of fruit for our upcoming new mixes (hush-hush!).  Our fruit hunt coincided with the nuptials of two dear friends, so we mixed a little business with a little pleasure, all the while basking in the breath-taking light of July in Washington State. 

We checked out some orchards in the humblingly heavenly San Juan Islands, where we stayed in a Tree House.  Actually, we stayed in a cottage called the Tree House, courtesy of our marvelous hosts from Isle Dream Cottages www.alldreamcottages.com, how's that for a shameless plug?), and out our window each night we got to watch a whale feeding in the channel.  Trying fruit all day, watching whales at sunset, sometimes this job really ain't so bad.

This didn't make many headlines, but while we were in Seattle some idiot went on a shooting spree at the Seattle area Jewish Federation, killing one woman and critically injuring 3 more.  Meet Naveed Afzel Haq, the latest excuse for man's inhumanity to man.  This absolute putz, this schmuck, thinks Israel is evil, so he decides to go on a rampage in Seattle?  That's like poisoning Lake Michigan because you have the L.A. Lakers.  That's like boycotting American Idol because you don't want to violate the second commandment, thou shall not worship false idols!  Some headlines labeled him insane, others a terrorist, but I'm just going to label him schmuck because it'll really tick off his worthless anti-Semite soul.

Anti-Semitism?  That's SO 2,000 years ago.  I mean, aren't 4,000 years of hating a culture enough?  When are we going to come up with a new anti-whatever-ism?  How about picking on Ecuadorians for a change?  Or how about the Greeks- everybody LOVES the Greeks.  They could stand to be taken down a peg; they could use a little humility for a change.

This awful Haq gets labeled a terrorist (he WISHES) and accused of savagery, but he's an AMERICAN. He gets to buy guns at Wal-Mart with the rest of us. Somehow we let this imbecile slip through the cracks in our system and turn into a moron with access to bullets.  He'd like to blame the Jews for all that's wrong, I'm sure plenty of Jews would like to blame fundamentalist Islam for this mess, but I think we should pick on the American education system.  As a culture we've got to create some checks so that fools like Haq can't violate his god's fifth commandment, and that should happen about the same time that the little brat is learning how to finger-paint.

Poem for the day:

Beneath the Ocean yonder plays my friend,

My brother, though he looks nothing like me.

He once drank milk and I once had a tail.

Through all four eyes of ours we the same see.

But he eats kelp or krill swimming fish

And I eat hamburgers and cheerios.

He inhales through a hole atop head,

while I just breath in through my little nose.

We're alike, as I say, though dif'rent too.

See, I have thumbs and fingers to grasp tight,

But he won't ever pick up anything,

I shoot and punch, but he can't really fight.

Does he pity me, no hole on my head?

Or pity us all for the curses we've said? 

Posted by iankusc at 11:06 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

The Peeled Snacks team made a junket out to New York state's fabulous Hamptons last week to get the word out about the glories of dried fruit, the wonders of dry-roasted nuts, and the evils of high fructose corn syrup (BOO! HISS!).  We rented a house in the woods and spent the days hopping from gourmet grocery to snack shop to farmer's market, talking with the Hamptonians (Hamptoners? Hamptonites? Hamptonizens?) and giving them a chance to try our treats.

It's not such a bad thing to sell Peeled Snacks in the Hamptons, right? I mean, it sure it beautiful out there at the far end of the southern fork of Long Island.  Water abounds in lakes, streams, bays, and, oh yeah, oceans; the towns are all picture perfect; the architecture consists of victorian classics and modern marvels; and the weather's absolutely lovely. 

I found a curious loveliness in the landscape out there- the Hampton isthmus roles out of the ocean just a bit, creates a hill or two, and then roles back into the ocean.  This makes for an odd horizonless experience- unless you're at the beach, you can't see any land features or rises to get a gauge of where you are in the world.  Thus, while out there, I constantly felt like I was on a smaller planet, one with only a small piece of land, little ocean, but a world full of sky.  I suppose I'm accustomed to seeing the horizon or things on it- I live in New York City, where you're never out of sight of a skyscraper or two.  But there are places, like the Hamptons where the world has a different shape and feel to it.

That lovely collection of towns is of course dangerously famous right now.  At the house we stayed in, some other boarders, just in from California, obsessed late into one night about which celebrities they hoped to see.  I guess living in New York City makes me rather immune to such anticipation, but I couldn't help smile widely when a certain hunky, Greek named, former advisor to president Clinton tried our snacks.

The biggest hit on our junket, though, wasn't our snacks- it was our T-shirts.  As announced in a recent newsletter, we're holding a competition to see who can come up with the snappiest T-shirt slogan for Peeled Snacks, but the current one turns plenty of heads.  We've had about 30 slogan submissions so far, and miraculously there've been no repeats yet.  Whoever comes up with the snappiest gets a free T-shirt, and we'll draw names of all contestants and send out a case of Bing Bing Cherry.

Anyway, "Peel Me" was a HUGE hit, so much so that we are now looking for a way to produce thousands of said T-shirts.  If anybody knows a good T-shirt company, drop me a line a let me know.  Flirty T-shirts are the voice of a generation of snackers, or at least will be when we get done with this next project...

 Poem for the day:

I live

on a hermit crab shell,

that my spiny host

borrowed from the sea's barnacled bottom.

When my hermit crab moves,

He drags us both with him-

Me and my world,

his shell.

We sway and bop

as he picks through the ocean's bounty,

and all the skies above

bobble too and fro.

I would think the world a tempest

of blasting winds and tides

were my hermit crab not inclined

to stop and rest

every so rare often.

Go eat a Peeled Snack in peace, and hope for some sanity to prevail in the Middle East.  Happy Monday,

 EN

Posted by iankusc at 08:19 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

So the Peeled Snacks team (and our delightful coterie) made a substantial splash at this week's New York Fancy Food Show.  I've gone a bit into what that gustatory mess was all about in other blog entries, but I've yet to unveil the "why" behind the Peeled Snacks splash.

Well sure, it could be that our splash was caused by just how darn good our snacks happen to be.  Oh, and it could be that everybody at the show turned their heads thanks to our snazzy packaging (in 2006, you too can use the word "snazzy").  And of course it could be Oprah's face, beaming out from posters festooned around our exhibit booth- after all, EVERYbody loves Oprah.

But none of those splashy things made as much of an impression as the silly, sexy T-shirts that we wore.  Our team wandered around the show wearing fitted  baseball T-shirts that said "Peel Me."  The back shows our hip little demonstration of the "Peel, Mix, & Enjoy" method of eating Peeled Snacks, and it sure looks good.

But "Peel Me"?  Heads turned everywhere we went.  It's a simple innuendo, really, and could easily be dismissed as propaganda from the powerful Idaho Potato lobby.  But when smeared across one of our intern's chests, or festooned upon our most excellently sexy president (I can say that because I married her), it becomes a dangerous guerilla marketing weapon of head turning, giggle-inducing shock and awe.

Some reactions: when walking through midtown Manhattan, one wearer passed a gentlemen who made a distinct "Peeling" gesture in her direction, accompanied by a sort of whipping sound...

While hanging out at our booth, another wearer was approached by a fellow conventioneer who inquired, "well where do you want me to start peeling?"

During a particularly busy rush, a woman approached me and asked, "Is what's underneath edible?"

Of course those are particularly gratuitous examples.  Most people just blushed, or asked what the heck the "Peel Me" was all about.  One way or another, those shirts made many a ripple, and our booth was hounded by inquirers lured out by six powerful, naughty letters.

Poem for the day:

I just need to say

I left my peeler at home.

May I use my teeth?

Do what the shirt says

And you'll wind up arrested.

Where's the fun in that?!?! 

-en 

Posted by iankusc at 09:07 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

The search at the Fancy Food Show for something truly, scaldingly, blisteringly spicy continued yesterday, much to no avail.  I dedicated some ample time to trying Buffalo and Jerk sauces, in hopes that somewhere amongst their ranks would be the sauce that could vaporize my pancreas.  Not to be- only sweet sauces, or tangy sauces, or sauces labelled "XXX" yet less spicy than 70s porn.

There were two standout exceptions, though.  And let me just porpose that I'm no food critic, I'm no paid journalist, and I'm certainly no gourmand.  I'm just a guy looking to batter around every cell in his body courtesy of a little capsaicin.

#1, Rene's Nuckin' Futs hot sauce, the dabble of which I tasted having dripped through my torso like the oozing hydro-chloric acid blood of the aliens from the Alien movies.  Simply put, Nuckin' Futs was distilled evil with a red tint.  Pure spice, vicious and unforgiving, really without any flavor to speak of.  I tip my hat to any man (or woman) that willingly and intentionally creates a liquid that could have ended World War II 10 months earlier.

#2, Bart's Delicatessen's Peruvian Hot Chilli Paste, a tangy, flavorful neutron bomb to the mouth, not quite as completely poisonous (and I mean that in a good way) as Nuckin' Futs, but something that must have killed all the free-radicals, residual mercury, trans-fats and long-ago swallowed pieces of bubble gum hiding in my body.  Bart's sauce, to my tongue, was actually delicious, but blended with a full-bodied ass-kicker of spice.  Really something special, that.  Oddly enough, Bart's is a British company.  Naturally, I'm not inclined to associate spicy food with the Brits (rather I'll lend them the adjective "bland").  But proof's in the pudding, that That sauce was simply THE sh!t.

An ode:

Upon my burning palate place what you will,

The cauldrons of Acheron may boil and singe

All the sooty, smeared Underworld,

Yet I'll not break any more a sweat

Than currently pours forth from my tortured brow.

For I have just sampled the spice of Hell's window box.

Vesuvious and Aetna may tag team against my tongue

And burb forth lava like the world's end,

But my tongue won't lash or dash a bit- it's already done.

Open my maw and feed me North Korean warheads,

But don't expect me to shed one tear more,

For this awful, evil heat, courtesy of <insert your hotsauce here>

Has purged my passioned tear wells of all irrigation.

Count me as dry, sated, and completely insane. 

Posted by iankusc at 08:39 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

This week New York's Jacob Javits center hosts the New York Fancy Food Show, a gigantic convention of food manufaturers and their hangers on that offers anyone in the biz a chance to taste what everyone else is doing and talk about them behind their backs (but not very far behind their backs- the Javitz center just ain't that big).

Peeled Snacks of course is represented, and our team has congregated in the Javitz center basement where we get to rub Oprah's face into every passerby (Oprah, I love you).  Conventions are long and silly.  I'm reminded of movies about prisons where all the prisoners mill about the yard and measure one anothers biceps and tatoos.  But no doubt about it, it's all really about the tastings.

Yesterday I wandered from booth to booth sampling all of the wonderful things out there to buy and eat: pre-made Indian dinners, fancy chocolates, exotic teas, 1,000 kind of jerky, 1,000,000 kinds of dipping sauce, cheeses galore, breads abounding, crackers, biscottis, you NAME it, it was there.

 And yet, I feel that I must submit a complaint.

Allright, I wandered around for a while looking for some hot sauce.  That's reasonable enough- people eat chilli and tacos, they need hot sauce.  I tried all the sauces in the louisiana section, I tried them all in Texes, I wandered through the Carribean and  Japan and a bit through Malaysia, looking only for the sauce that would make my forehead bead with sweat and my eyes bulge.

Nada.

I'm convinced, CONVINCED, that we americans are being bred out of our spiciness.  I believe whole-heartedly that there is a coordinated plot to make wimpy the taste buds of our great nation, and to turn us into a society of white-bread eating water-lillies.  We are systematically losing our competative edge thanks to terrible culinary decisions and some arcane plot involving completely un-american sous-chefs and gnome-like sauciers!

 FIGHT this plot- ask for your food to be spicy, and DEMAND that it make you sweat!  Global warming's happening anyway- we'll need the cooling comfort of spicy food soon enough anyway...

 -Ian "EN" K

Posted by iankusc at 08:02 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)