Bar codes: The beginning or the end?

Veiss1. Flickr. June 6, 2009.

Americans value their independence as much as their time.  Self-service check-out at grocery stores attempts to rival the efficiencies of fast food restaurants.  For those who dread the new or the chatty cashier, the parent shopping for a family of ten, or the customer with a pile of coupons, salvation has arrived.  Not only is check-out expedited, but the process is under the shopper’s control.  There’s no negotiating paper or plastic money or bags.  Any worries about missing items are mitigated by the stern, automated voice emanating from somewhere near the coin return.

Bar codes, of course, are key to the success of the customer/cashier.  Without them, shoppers couldn’t qualify for this role.  If only all packages, packaging, and bar code locations were similar.  The 40-pound bag of dog food, the colorful box of raisins, and the plastic bag of carrots each constitute unique challenges to the dignity and efficiency of the self-checker.  The annoyed sighs of waiting shoppers, the strident orders of the automated supervisor, and the absent beeps of the scanner require a focus on bar codes.

Now that there’s an “app” for mobile bank deposits, can an “app” for grocery check-out be far behind?  Imagine that invisible robotic cashier simply demanding payment upon your arrival at the self-check-out lane.  Perhaps, grocers will provide human baggers to further expedite check-out.  Certainly, jobs for human cashiers will be needed.  Already, their work has become more physical and technical due to bar codes.  There’s no more entering the numbers of prices into a cash register or calculating change.  Perhaps, their future is as technicians.  People will be needed to maintain and repair all those self-check-out computers.

How do you prefer to pay for your groceries?  Would you miss your friendly human cashier if grocery check-out became fully automated?

© Laura Rizzardini, Inc., 2011

Food preservation: The value of time

Indi Samarajiva. Flickr. April 21, 2006.

Convenience enables us to save the time that is as valuable to us as money.  Thanks to the web, no one need even rise from his or chair to accomplish the grocery shopping.  College-educated chefs and dieticians protect us from hot kitchens and scorched fingers by preparing sumptuous and nourishing restaurant and packaged meals.  Should we wish to dabble in cooking, we can purchase pancake mix, instant hot cereal, dry macaroni, or powered cocoa.  Of course, they can’t eclipse the now dated wonders of food preservation.

Refrigerators, canned soup, frozen vegetables, and bottled beverages have freed us from long, hot days in the field and the kitchen.  Even these astounding achievements have been superseded by modern chemistry.  They enable us to store meats such as hot dogs and sliced ham, condiments such as mustard and pickles, and baked goods from buns to pumpernickel bread to apple pie.  No one has to shop every day, bake every week, or live without his or her favorite foods.  There’s time for children, spouses, social service, education, business strategy, urban planning, construction, technology, baseball, television, and social media.

While food preservatives improve the quality of life, do they reduce the quantity of life?  According to the Center for Science in the Public Interest, most food additives, that is, preservatives and colors are safe.  Still, consumption of common food additives such as sulfites which are found in dried fruit and potatoes has been fatal to some people.   Sodium nitrates and nitrates preserve the hot dogs, bacon, and cold cuts beloved by many Americans, but they have been associated with cancer.  It’s necessary, then, to choose processed foods wisely.  Today, reading labels is likely a legacy of grandmother and grandfather.  That’s a tradition worthy of preservation.

© Laura Rizzardini, Inc., 2011

Dairy foods: For the love of Americana

Brown Eyed Baker. Flickr. July 22, 2010.

The creamy goodness of ice cream, cheesecake, macaroni and cheese, and pudding aside, dairy foods are known as abundant sources of protein and calcium.  Even the most devout fans of soda pop drink milk and eat yogurt.  It may be chocolate milk and strawberry yogurt; thanks to the imaginations of major dairies, there’s an ample variety of flavored and sweetened milk and yogurt at the grocers.  Alternate sources of protein and calcium can’t compete.  They aren’t an integral part of American culture like milk and cornflakes, grilled cheese sandwiches, and cheese burgers.

Baked beans, spinach salad, and steamed broccoli don’t offer the texture and rich taste of hot, melted cheese.  Roasted nuts can’t provide the silky flavor of chocolate pudding.  How would American culture have to change to facilitate the consumption and enjoyment of nondairy sources of protein and calcium?  At birthday parties, what would be the favored accompaniment to cake?   Would you care for some lemonade with those chocolate chip cookies?  It is truly American culture that prescribes a dairy-centered diet.  Residents of other parts of the globe focus their meals on aromatic and textured grains such as jasmine and sticky rice, polenta and masa harina, and flatbreads such as injera, chapatti, and naan.

No one need sacrifice the Americana of public snacking at block parties, ball parks, backyard barbeques, and playgrounds.  Consider a focus on the fruits of the land rather than denizens of the pasture in preparing those snacks.  Why not enjoy frozen juice pops instead of ice cream custard ones?  Wouldn’t scoops of tutti-frutti sorbet be cooler and more refreshing than an ice cream sundae?  Prepare potato salad with nutrient-rich olive oil rather than macaroni and cheese.  Instead of grilled cheese sandwiches, offer your children classic peanut butter and banana on multi-grain bread.  Bake corn muffins with sprigs of chopped greens for on-the-go snacking.  Sweeter wheat muffins might include walnuts, raisins, blueberries, or grated carrots.  Limiting dairy foods needn’t leave one bereft of nutrition, flavor or culture.  It just might prolong the enjoyment.

© Laura Rizzardini, Inc., 2011

The refrigerator: A short story

Your Postmodern Cornucopia
Travis Hornung. Flickr. Santa Cruz, CA, USA. May 27, 2006.

Americans expect their kitchens to be equipped with refrigerators, but these appliances are not common in all parts of the world.  Even Americans who eat primarily fast food and restaurant meals still stock their refrigerators.  How would our meals differ without refrigeration?  We’d have to drink warm beverages including water, soda, and orange juice.  Forget the cold tinkle of ice cubes in iced tea and party punch bowls.  There’d be no keeping supplies of condiments such as pickles, ketchup, mustard, and jam.  Consumption of dairy products like milk, butter, cheese, and ice cream would be uncommon.  There would be no milk and cookies, grilled cheese sandwiches, or ice cream sundaes.

Trips to the pantry or dank, dark basement for cans of mushy yellow-green peas and lank grayish green spinach would be necessary.  Bins of potatoes and winter squash would accompany containers of split peas and pinto beans.  Shopping daily for fresh bread, meat, and produce would be required.  Fresh fruit would last only days.  We’d have to eat only locally grown, seasonal fruit.  There’d be no oranges in Michigan, apples in Arizona, kiwi fruit in Connecticut, or bananas in Idaho.

Without the refrigerator, Americans could not enjoy leftover cold pizza, fried chicken, or Chinese food for breakfast.  There would be no midnight refrigerator raids to eat that last piece of apple pie, savor the crispy corner portion of lasagna, or build a sandwich from leftover turkey.  The lullaby of its hum wouldn’t induce overnight naps on the couch after television marathons.  There would be no place to post children’s drawings, doctor’s appointments, or grocery lists.  What’s on your refrigerator?  What’s in your refrigerator?  Do you have a favorite midnight refrigerator raid story?

© Laura Rizzardini, Inc., 2011

Let them eat cake: The culture of Ding Dongs

Karen Neoh. Flickr. October 17, 2007.

American fast food may be defined as hamburgers and hotdogs, but we’re no shirkers when it comes to dessert, either.  Ding Dongs, Twinkies, Little Debbie Snack Cakes, and Oreos are all well-established American snacks.  Even more, “grab and go” has become the slogan of convenience stores and corner groceries as well as the motto of many Americans.  We still have our palates; those cakes must be sweet, moist, and colorful.  Who doesn’t have fond memories of biting into a golden-brown Twinkie to savor the sweet, creamy frosting within?

Science fiction to the contrary, the future has not brought us breakfasts of dry biscuits, meals in a pill, or flavorless liquid lunches.  American fast food meals may lack nourishment, but they achieve superior marks for efficiency, taste, and presentation.  As a respite from labor, an energy boost, and a reward or treat, snack cakes exceed chips, coffee, and diet soda.  Even red ripe apples and warm yellow bananas have difficulty competing with their colorful packaging and intense sweetness.

The cherished economy of snack cakes is fostered by their mass production and that of their ingredients.  The expected, but worrisome shelf-life of those lushly soft and sweet snack cakes accrues from the economies of their production.  Who would want to give up the savings of a box of individual packages of mini-doughnuts or fudge brownies?  A better measure of income and quality of life, then, is immunity to the charms of low-priced snacks.  Choosing the juicy, organic grapes, adding creamy avocados to sandwiches, or packing fresh strawberries for lunch should constitute an investment in one’s health, not a budgetary deficit.

What’s your favorite snack?  Why do you recommend it?

© Laura Rizzardini, Inc., 2011

The Microwave Oven: An Instant Success

Jim Mead. Lyppard Bourne, Worcester, England. Great Britain. Flickr. September 19, 2010.

Given the American demand for instant gratification, the invention of the microwave oven and its resounding success are no surprise.  Not only does it provide a hot meal in seconds, but it eliminates nearly all of the labor associated with meal preparation.  Chicken dinners, popcorn snacks, and hearty breakfasts of bacon and eggs are all prepared faster than a trip by the drive-through window of the local restaurant.

No more standing over a hot stove in summer heat, elbow deep in sudsy water and greasy pans, or hungrily at the kitchen door.  No advance meal planning is required.  Stocking up on frozen, canned, and packaged foods ensures a ready supply of instant, hot meals. There’s no need for kitchen company and camaraderie; the time spent there is minimal.  The postmodern kitchen can approximate a galley; all that’s needed is room for the appliances, the storage cabinets, and the button-pusher.

No more credit for creativity or presentation, either.  Eating from stylish, albeit colorless and disposable containers suffices.  Microwaved meal containers won’t burn the skin.  There are no leftovers to package.  Individual portions of foods are easily purchased and prepared.  There’s no setting the table with the family china, soft candlelight, or festive napkins.  The companionship of fellow diners is optional and, even, unexpected.

For this reason, no decorum in consumption is necessary.  Sitting or even standing at the kitchen counter while eating is acceptable.  Silverware and even table manners are unnecessary.  Worse, there’s no time to eat.  The instantaneous preparation time has reduced mealtime from a cherished family ritual to physical nourishment.  The computer screen and the keyboard are the postmodern source of sociability and conviviality.  By their pixilated glow and harmonic taps and clicks, we share experiences if not meals with the world.

© Laura Rizzardini, Inc., 2011