Real Food Mathematics: "Natural"+"Organic"≠"Sane" : Batter Blaster meets Skinnygirl

"Makes breakfast a blast!"

Batter Blaster 

Batter Blaster ingredients:

filtered water, organic wheat flour (unbleached), organic cane sugar, organic eggs, sodium lactate to inhibit spoilage, organic soybean powder, leavening (dicalcium phosphate and sodium bicarbonate), sea salt, organic rice bran extract, propellant.

I have no idea how long Batter Blaster has been on the market, but I started noticing the (apparently) low-tech, low-budget, 1950s or early 60s-style television commercials just a few months ago. "Just shake, point, blast and cook!" the announcer exclaims as the model shows you how it's done. Then they do it again, in Instant Replay:  "Just shake, point, blast and cook!" (Click here to see a Batter Blaster ad on the Internet.) The demonstrations are followed by an inane jingle:

♫♪ Make a better breakfast faster: 

Batter Blaster! ♪♫♪

I laughed out loud the first time. But I was laughing even harder when the ads started showing up on cable between gourmet cooking shows. 

[This babble continues.]

It was a brilliant media campaign, really. The captive audience has been sitting there for at least ten minutes (maybe as long as several hours), thinking about food but not cooking. They've been watching someone like Paula Dean or Mario Batali go to entirely too much trouble to put food on the table. The audience is feeling inadequate and lazy, and they've already decided to order a pizza, open a bag of chips, and call it good.

Then the commercial break comes, but before they've had a chance to mute the sound and pick up the phone, Batter Blaster is there, letting everyone know all is not lost. Look, everyone: Cooking is easy! "Just shake, point, blast and cook!" Even a couch potato can do that!

Plus, it's totally organic! Oh, and the steel can and plastic nozzle are totally recyclable! Wow! This amazing aerosol can of pancake goop is Earth friendly and good for you!

Oh. My. God. The hard-sell tactics were hilarious. I had to get a can.

Shaking the can was easy, as was pointing the nozzle at the center of the pan. Blasting a round pancake into the center of the pan turned out to be NOT easy at all. It may not have been the fault of Batter Blaster's design, however, because I was somewhat distracted by the need to balance the digital camera on my chest while reaching over the top with my left hand to push the shutter release while also blasting batter into the pan with my right hand. Being a food blogger is challenging indeed!

Just to make things interesting, I decided to cut up an apple and add some slices to the pancake. This turned out to be a wonderful addition.

When it came time to flip the pancake to cook the second side, I was pleased that most of the batter had set up well enough that it wasn't a soupy mess to turn the thing over.

I chose to top my apple blaster with a pad of real butter and a dollop of Mermelada de Tejocote, which tastes a lot like apple butter. As I forked my way through the taste test, I noticed that the outside of the cooked blaster was very crispy, but not hard. The inside was tender and steamy and a little chewy, the way a good pancake should be.

Still, I couldn't decide if Batter Blaster was really a good product or not. But did it live up to the hype?

It certainly tasted like a pancake. A pretty good one.

As advertised, clean up was pretty easy. Mmmmm...

In the end, I decided I needed to make another apple pancake, this time without the distraction of the camera.

Skinnygirl

Skinnygirl ingredients:

blue agave tequita, "natural" flavors" (Like, what flavors? What synthetics?), "caramel color" (seriously: what you using for color?)
OK. There's no ingredient's list. 
QUESTION: Why doesn't the FDA require alcohol products to list their ingredients? Why are they exempt from declaring their calorie count? Yes, Skinnygirl, I'm calling you on your own B.S. How many calories per serving, girlfriend?

I'm often astounded by the products in the "organic" groceries aisle. You can buy organic cheese puffs now and organic soda pop. Which is just plain weird. If you're eating cheese puffs and drinking carbonated sugar water, what's the point of making sure they're organic? They're not natural foods to begin with. The marketing of organic junk food reminds me of American Spirit cigarettes, which advertise that they have "no additives" in their "natural tobacco products." 

I guess what I'm getting at is that just because something's labeled "organic" or "all natural," it doesn't mean the product is necessarily good for you. Nor is it necessarily worth the extra dollars you'll pay for something labeled "All Natural."

I discovered Skinnygirl in the wine section of the Boardman Giant Eagle when I was shopping for an imported dark beer for the pork rib marinade.

If the "Natural Flavors" and "All Natural" claims on the front of the bottle weren't enough to sell you on the questionable concept of healthy distilled alcohol, the back advertising drove the sale home by referencing America's obsession with calories and the "guilt" of consuming something you really like:

So...the message I'm getting from the bottle is: This stuff's healthy. It's something you already like (margaritas), but with this product, you won't feel "guilty" about consuming something you like. Yes. You can be skinny, too. Trust me.

I must have stood there for a full five minutes reading and re-reading the bottle. WTF? I put it back on the shelf with all the other skinny girls.

Two days later, I was back. I had decided to take this skinny girl to a party and check her out. Maybe I was being too judgmental.

As my friend Val opened the bottle at the party on Sunday, she said she was surprised by the intense aroma of tequila. I had to agree. Usually, these pre-mixed mixed drink products hide the alcohol, mask it with fruity scents, sugary flavors, and a bunch of other stuff. With Skinnygirl, however, the aroma of tequila is foremost. 

I had one glass of Skinnygirl, per the directions on the front of the bottle, "Open and Serve." Over ice. No lime, no salt.

The margarita--if you want to call it that--was not very sweet at all, which I liked. The tequila was definitely flavorful. Not a bad drink. I can't tell you if it was good tequila, because I don't know tequila, but it wasn't  bad. Not bad at all.

Val said something about tequila being the first alcohol that she ever got sick on, then continued to tell me about a three-day hangover and vomiting her guts out when she was much younger. While I listened to Val's story, I wondered if the makers of Skinnygirl were looking for consumers like my firend, women who have lost "trust" in margaritas, women who have been betrayed by tequila. Why else would they insist that Skinnygirl is "the margarita you can trust"?

As for me, someone who has never been betrayed by tequila, I thought Skinnygirl was okay. Definitely okay at about the cost of an okay bottle of wine. Nothing to get excited about, but not a rip-off either.

What I missed was lime juice. When I make margaritas, which is once in a blue-green moon, I make them with fresh lime juice, the most expensive tequila I can afford, and a splash of Triple Sec.

I really missed the lime. I love limes. I can skip the salt, but not the lime.

I also missed the comeraderie that I usually associate with margaritas, whether I make a batch for a party at home or share a pitcher with friends at a Mexican restaurant. I missed the ritual of sharing. At Sunday's party, Val and I stopped drinking Skinnygirl after the first glass. And no one else even touched the bottle.

The more I thought about it, the more I decided that this skinny girl stuff just wasn't my . . . my "type" of stuff. I left her there, that Skinnygirl. I ditched her, went home alone. Didn't even saying good-night.

(And, no, I did not feel guilty.)