It's a Boo Bou

Caribou has a new design, and a live-out-loud cup to go along with it. As Caribou Coffee seeks to "leap" toward the future with their new design, they illustrate the common trend in coffeehouse culture to sell more than just coffee.

Perhaps I'm too traditional in approaching my coffee, but I already miss the old Caribou. There was something whimsical about a coffee shop not only named after a large mammal but unafraid to stamp the leaping mascot all over their packaging, but now our old northern friend looks more like a cross between a coffee bean and an Olympic logo.

To top off the new transition, the new coffee cups "talk" as well. The design is cliche cluttered. With advice like "pour yourself a cup of karma" and "plant lots of trees." Caribou is right about one thing, however: "life is short." So we shouldn't have to waste it reading our coffee cups.

The good news is Caribou still makes a good cup of coffee, and if you adopt one their cliches, you can close your eyes, "savor every sip" and pretend that nothing has changed.

Super-Size My Eucharist

Food is fleeting, so it's no wonder that here at TBATC we have not thought to ask, "What were portion sizes in Western Europe like 1,000 years ago?"

Maybe it's not a silver-dollar question, but two creative sibling scientists, Brian and Craig Wansink, did ask it, and they came up with an answer by looking at 52 paintings of the most documented meal in history, the Last Supper. Their report is just in time for Passover and Easter. With the help of computers, they compared the size of the food dishes—entrées of eel, fish, pork, and lamb—and the size of the plates those items were on with the head sizes of Jesus and the apostles. Human head size, it is fair to say, has not changed for thousands of years.

The Wansinks' report was published this Tuesday in the International Journal of Obesity, whose apt logo is of an ever-widening oval. The size of the plates, they found, increased by 66%. The size of the plates grew in tandem with the size of the entrees, which also bloomed to 66%. But the size of the loaves increased only by 23%. (Michelle Obama, crusading against obesity while tilling her vegetable garden in designer sneakers, is yet to comment.)

I humbly suggest the next question for the Wansinks to explore: Should an artist looking to shed a few pounds buy himself smaller plates? For, if the artists of the 52 Last Supper paintings put smaller portions on smaller plates and larger portions on larger plates, wouldn't they do the same in life? After all, proportion and beauty must be maintained, and a plate's decorations must be on display. All this, for an artist, it could be sensibly argued, is part of enjoying the meal.

Double Feature!

Good news, readers: a TBATC first!

In this week's issue of The Weekly Standard, K'Barbic and I each have an article published. K'Barbic dismantles the grande illusion of Starbucks, and I review Seamus Heaney's latest book, The Testament of Cresseid and Seven Fables.

We hope you enjoy them!

He Who Would Have Friends

Groundbreaking new research seems to indicate that happy people like to talk and be around other people. Conclusion: happy people "are social and conversationally deep, rather than solitary and superficial." This is particularly shocking since people who keep to themselves sulking in dark corners, avoiding contact and meaningful conversation, give the appearance of real joy.

To the introverted reader out there, do not start panicking and questioning your inner happiness just yet: this research does not declare you unhappy. The happiness correlation was to substantive conversations, not just any idle chitchat; therefore, it is possible to talk "less" and still be happy. But if you do choose to talk less, make your conversation count.

... and just in case you haven't had a meaningful conversation yet today, here's something else to make you smile.

Read Before Eating

Perhaps, if Alice had had the help of a kind regulatory agency when she was in Wonderland, she would have known the recommended serving and effects of the "Drink Me" elixir. Without the Wonderland FDA's help, however, poor Alice is left to experimentation and its dramatic results.

Does healthy eating begin with active label reading? The FDA thinks so. After all, we can't have foolish customers picking up an ice cream dessert at their local grocery store all the time believing that ice cream is low in fat and therefore good for them. On the other hand, our government wouldn't want us believing a healthy product (like POM Wonderful, as the WSJ report notes) is too good to be true.

Since I was eating my microwaveable lunch while reading the FDA's latest concerns, I turned to the label on my soup. This particular soup is one that claims to be a healthier option, so its packaging was happy to share its many benefits. I found ample explanation of the vegetable content in my soup. Lest I be deceived into thinking that 3/4 of a cup of vegetables is all that I'll need for the day (although it's likely all I'll consume today), I am reminded by the soup company that my lunch only has 30% of the FDA's recommended serving of vegetables (which by the way, no need to do the math since the soup company already did, is 2 and 1/2 cups). The fat content of this veggie-rich lunch? One and a half grams per serving. But wait. This little cup of soup has not one but "about" two servings, so if I indulge and consume all 14 ounces, then I'll be taking in a grand total of about 3 grams (that math I did without the healthy soup company's help).

Of course. this is not my first time reading a food label. I am an avid reader of the labels on my food, partly out of food consciousness and partly out of curiosity. I appreciate the basic nutritional information provided which helps me avoid excessive amounts of fat, sodium, sugar, etc. Additional asterisks and tiny exception clauses placed on packaging to placate the FDA, however, have yet to change my eating or reading habits. Despite clear nutritional labels, there must be a point of consumer commonsense and awareness. Otherwise, consume at your own risk.