The New Republic

Last week we looked at Cracker Jack, which is engaged in a transparently desperate brand overhaul that seems predestined for failure. This time around, let's look at another snack brand that's undergoing a redesign, only this one is much more nuanced: Little Debbie. READ MORE >>

I ate at the best restaurant in the world. I don’t really remember it that well. READ MORE >>

The modern market for energy drinks is less than 20 years old, but the products are already firmly rooted in the dubious tradition of American patent medicine. We’ve always had a weakness for elixirs and potions that promise health and vitality, but nowadays, we get our nostrums from the convenience store rather than the travelling medicine show. If you wanted to sum up energy drinks, you could put it this way: A middling amount of caffeine combined with mega-doses of marketing and pseudoscience. READ MORE >>

“The future is better than you think” is the message of Peter Diamandis’s and Steven Kotler’s book. Despite a flat economy and intractable environmental problems, Diamandis and his journalist co-author are deeply optimistic about humanity’s prospects. “Technology,” they say, “has the potential to significantly raise the basic standards of living for every man, woman, and child on the planet.... Abundance for all is actually within our grasp.” READ MORE >>

I’m just going to come out and say it: I love horsemeat. It’s lean, yet tender, it is flavorful but not gamy; it’s delicious. Those IKEA meatball-eaters have no idea how lucky they are. READ MORE >>

For a good long while, I let myself think that the slender platinum blonde behind the counter at Pret A Manger was in love with me. How else to explain her visible glow whenever I strolled into the shop for a sandwich or a latte? Then I realized she lit up for the next person in line, and the next. Radiance was her job. READ MORE >>

Have you been following the evolution of smoked salmon snobbery? It's a fascinating story. First about ethnic deracination and then, following that, foodie fetishism that transcends ethnicity for some imagined posh/poshlost realm of anglophile purity. Some realm that rivals wine snobbery. It's become the Downton Abbey of smoked fish. READ MORE >>

MR LEOPOLD BLOOM ate with relish the inner organs of beasts and fowls. He liked thick giblet soup, nutty gizzards, a stuffed roast heart, liverslices fried with crustcrumbs, fried hencods’ roes. Most of all he liked grilled mutton kidneys which gave to his palate a fine tang of faintly scented urine.” READ MORE >>

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TO DECRY THE decline of America is to know nothing about beer. No nation in its twilight can shine with such Yakima Glory (Victory Brewing Co., Downington, Pa). The doomsayers who say that all empires must fall forget that we are secure in the grip of the Backwoods Bastard (Founders, Grand Rapids, Mich.). You, reader, may find solace in Cato’s lament of Rome’s fall, but I’ll cast my own lot with Pliny the Elder (Russian River Brewing, Calif.). READ MORE >>