Making Food Fun
by Patrick Quirk
I recently spent a weekend with my 2 ½-year-old
nephew. At that age, most of a child's meals
contain at least one fun item. It could be fish
sticks in the shape of fish, snowmen in their
mac 'n' cheese or candy sprinkles in their Jell-O.
And it dawned on me, sitting there, watching him tear into his spaceship-shaped
cereal, that
as we age, food with flair is slowly taken from us. I
remember when I learned that pistachios are not
actually red; what a disappointment. We go from a
party on our plates to having only fruit roll-ups and
Lucky Charms. But even these items eventually
disappear from most adult pantries.
In this day of genetically manipulated food, mass
marketing and cargo shorts, why isn't there more
whimsy on adult plates? Yes, there are some
mavericks out there fighting the whimsical fight. The
Japanese, for example, are growing square
watermelons. You can buy blue, green or purple ketchup at most
grocery stores, and with a little effort we can enjoy
Octopus-shaped hot dogs.
These efforts are laudable, but we can do more. Much, much more. Americans have
the science, the egos and the cash to make this
happen.
There is a lot of debate in this country and elsewhere about
genetically engineered food. The issues are very
complicated and require scientific understanding which
I do not have. But regardless of the details, we live in a world in which
we purposefully breed
Chinese crested dogs and sphynx
cats, two of the
ugliest animals on the planet. In a world of hairless
cats and White Zinfandel, can we really spend time
worrying about molecular biology, enzymes and
proteins?
Take the potato: There is no vegetable more boring. Occasionally, I'd like
to eat a potato-shaped
like Idaho and I don't think I'm asking too much.
Potatoes also tend to look dirty, even when washed. They would look so much better
polished up a bit, given a nice semi-gloss skin.
Similarly, corn on the cob is great. But if the kernels
looked like Skittles, I'd enjoy it more.
And cross-breeding animals opens the door to so many
exciting possibilities. Cross a crab with a pig, and
we'd all be eating crab loin: delicious and user
friendly.
Marketing opportunities abound. Lima beans may not the most popular bean around, for example.
But what if they were mutated to look like the
Republican elephant and Democratic donkey? During the
presidential election, Green Giant could have a lima
bean poll: Which sells more, Republican or Democratic
limas? There could be a lima bean for every holiday:
hearts for Valentine's Day, shamrocks for St.
Patrick's Day and turkeys for Thanksgiving.
During football season, NFL fans should be able to get
a pizza shaped for their home town team. Imagine the
possibilities: lighting-bolt pizza in San Diego,
arrowhead pizza in Kansas City and racist pizza in
Washington. Waffles should be served with a paper
thin sheet of butter the same shape and size of the
waffle itself so every indentation gets filled.
Making food fun again doesn't have to be done
through genetics alone. All it requires is a little
creativity. The McNugget comes in three boring
shapes. The best McDonald's who has given us
Grimace for God's sake can do is three nameless,
uninspired nugget shapes. Unforgivable. And easily
correctable.
Critics of these ideas will argue that fun food will
lead to overeating. They will argue that
Pitt-Aniston Happy Couple Cheetos will result in
people eating more Cheetos instead of healthier foods.
But if we can manipulate food to be more fun, we can
also manipulate it to be less fun. If someone is
dieting, they wouldn't have to buy the tie-dyed
butter, they could buy the vomit butter. Forget South
Beach, get on the Ugly Food Diet! There'd be a lot
less fatty salad dressing eaten in this world if it
looked like phlegm.
As we reach adulthood, everything gets so serious.
Serious issues, serious clothes, serious food. We're
told that we're only as young as we feel. I'd
feel a lot younger if my dinner made me laugh.
E-mail Patrick Quirk at quirkmail@yahoo.com.
Graphic by Ryan North (dinosaurcomics@insaneabode.com).