The Grapple: A misguided yet valiant effort

Today, Boyfriend reminded me of a spooky discovery we made at the neighborhood Publix last month. There in the produce section, nestled snugly in shiny plastic containers at the end of the apple bin, was a startling Frankenstein of nature. Complete with a pronunciation guide on their cartoonish label, I stood paralyzed by the four Grapples (grape-les), waxy and ready to go for the bargain price of almost $5.

After the initial shock and awe subsided, we compared notes and discovered that, indeed, these were grape flavored apples. Where do I begin? First of all, why do we even need apples that taste like grapes? Will more people eat the apples because they taste like grapes? And is real grape really that popular of a flavor? Last I checked, kids preferred the fluorescent purple of bank lollipops and cough syrup.

One would think grapes are utterly flying off the shelves. Get Fit Foods, the company that markets the Grapple brand, would have us believe these Fuji Frankensteins will promote healthier lifestyles and encourage participation in its 3-Apple-a-Day plan. It’s a nice thought. The Grapple website links to an article with the heading “USDA grants help provide schools with Grapple brand apples!” Go to the actual article and the message is less clear. For starters, it doesn’t mention “Grapple brand apples.” In fact, a school official is quoted as saying the district likes to purchase local produce with the grants and put money back into neighborhood agriculture. Interesting because Lejeune, NC, is nowhere near Grapple’s hometown of Wenatchee, WA.

Another interesting tidbit is the quote Grapple chooses to highlight in its News page entry for the article. “We are so lucky,” said Jan Holt, Director of Child Nutrition Programs at Camp Lejeune. “Yes, more labor is involved, yes, it’s more costly, but it’s so beneficial for the students. It’s worth every second.” Why is it worth it? True, kids are novelty addicts, but there are cheaper ways to make an apple “fun.” Are my tax dollars really buying Grapples?

The Grapple website does go on to mention that its product is “just one of the popular choices being served at some of our nation’s schools.” Not exactly living up to your heading, Grapple.

So you may be wondering what goes into a Grapple. It’s all shrouded in mystery, but I can offer a basic–and I mean bare bones–explanation. Somehow, perfect little Fuji apples are soaked in a grape “flavor” concentrate. Apparently, this concentrate consists of real grapes and “pure” water. (*Note: I don’t use quotes lightly. These are actual terms used on the Grapple website.) Nevermind the details, just know that it’s possible.

Now, in case you’re someone who can actually afford to pay upwards of $1 per Grapple, I must warn you that many are claiming to be disappointed by the taste. Don’t get me wrong, the Grapples are delicious; it’s just that they taste too darn much like…well, apples.

Once upon a Merlot…

When will I learn my lesson? Wine, no matter how much I enjoy it, WILL make me sick. Is it the acidity? Is it the cunning potency? Perhaps if I knew the reason, I could prevent the inevitable dive to the hard rock bottom of surprise inebriation. Perhaps I could resist the seduction of that warm, ever-so-gentle bite that loves you all the way down and conspires to keep you that way.

“No! Reject!” says my body. Head spinning, gut wrenching, I rave against the stupidity of my lapse in judgement, genuinely ignorant of the turn that brought me to this miserable state. Torn between the need to purge and the desire to be unconscious, I hover shakily in a dreadful limbo.

And there stands my friend. One of a handful who would do the same, he watches my grotesque dive into self-absorbed nausea, faithfully reminding himself of the need for timely oversight in matters of love. With a little luck, he won’t remind me of my fool’s descent into absolute squalor. Skin, teeth and hair can be cleaned, and most stains are easily lifted from blue jeans. Well, except for red wine.  That doesn’t come out.

Dialect and Diet

Popular media has become extremely fond of catchy combo nouns:  Bennifer, Brangelina, TomKat, and so on.  After my initial annoyance, I’ve come to realize that I can’t really blame them.  There are some extremely useful Frankenstein words out there, although you won’t catch me uttering any of the aforementioned.  The American Dialect Society recently voted “plutoed” as its new word of the year.  Other contenders included “boomeritis,” “firecrotch,” and “lactard” (my personal favorite).  In case you were wondering, plutoed  means “to demote or devalue someone or something, as happened to the former planet Pluto when the General Assembly of the International Astronomical Union decided Pluto no longer met its definition of a planet.”  I dare say it’s quite useful.

However, my all time favorite new word is the 2003 Champion, “flexitarian.”  It precisely describes my diet and personal convictions surrounding nutrition.  Although I am incredibly disgusted by the treatment of animals in the meat industry as a whole, I have not decided to become vegan.  I have several reasons.

1. I feel that the exclusion of all meat and animal by-products from my diet would result in numerous uncomfortable situations, not the least of which would be offending my host or going hungry.  This is largely due to my close family and state of residence.
2. In matters of diet, I believe in moderation and variety.  Meat is high in saturated fat and contributes greatly to our nation’s high rates of obesity, heart disease, and cancer.  When I cook for myself during the week, I never prepare a meat or poultry dish.  My meals usually include a fruit or vegetable, a whole grain, some dairy, and a lean protein such as tofu or fish.
3. I refuse to give up animal by-products, especially dairy.  I have a cook’s soul and am in love with traditional methods and ingredients.

A flexitarian understands the benefits of a mostly meatless diet while acknowledging that an occasional deviation is healthy and normal.  Whether it be due to social constraints or the love of a particular dish, flexitarians are…flexible.  Not only that, flexitarians are aware and, intentionally or not, forward thinking.

A Post from NYC

My full schedule has made it extremely hard to cultivate the idea sparks I get on a daily basis. I live for the moments when a crisp thought crackles like an electric spark against the monotonous background of generic brain activity. I’m going to be revisiting my lost ideas, especially now that election fever is experiencing a momentary lull.

I’ve been in NYC for the past few days on Teach For America business. This is my second time to stay in Manhattan, and I am so very far from being acclimatized. It literally drains me. Everything is a hassle, and almost nothing (except sub-par Chinese cuisine) is convenient. Sure, you can buy a designer bag and take your pick of coffee shops and drug stores, but what if you need something completely practical—like a curtain rod. I would rather go broke on cab fair than walk down the Manhattan obstacle courses known as sidewalks with a curtain rod.

Anyway, here I am in the city of cities surrounded by 100 idealistic Type A’s whose self-defining catchphrase happens to be “relentless pursuit of results.” Needless to say, my introverted spirit is starting to get woozy. I’ve been putting up an admirable effort to stay engaged, but my batteries are getting low and I need to recharge. Just when we launched into the 6 hour structured problem solving segment, I heard something familiar and somewhat bizarre. Music. Church music, in fact. It was an a cappella group from the choir practicing upstairs. It’s hard to fully articulate my reaction, but when I heard that music, something inside of me unwound. I was soothed and comfortable, and I don’t feel that way during large group gatherings. When the music ended, so did my confidence.

I admire those people who feed off of others constantly. The longer they’re surrounded, the more energy they get. Conversely, I need to be alone to build energy. I go through spurts when I’m in a crowd. I will be talkative and alive for a time, and then suddenly crash and slink away to the outdoors or some quiet bathroom to collect myself. In Manhattan, the outdoors is out of the question. No matter where one goes, there are MORE PEOPLE, more noise, and less sky. Someone please teach me how to think in this city.

Long Live NPR

The work day can be divided into chunks of time, mangeable portions defined primarily as pre-lunch or post-lunch.  There’s the morning hour, glinting ever so slightly with the promise of a young day.  Then, the pre-lunch hour, when I’m giddy at the prospect of hot potato cheese soup from the cafeteria next door.  Afternoon chunks are harder to define and much harder to enjoy.  It’s impossible to be excited until at least 4:30, the beginning of the “home stretch” chunk.  That excruciating time in between, after lunch but before the home stretch, is a wasteland.  Productivity?  Don’t think so.  Not when the minutes creep by like a trip to the DMV.

OK, maybe I don’t have the right to complain anymore.  I’ve found a remedy, a sweet concoction that makes the pill go down very smoothly.  It’s aural and cerebral snack food, and it’s called iTunes radio.  You mean, I can ride the Apple bus without actually owning an iPod?   Exactly.  The most exciting part of the whole thing is that I don’t have to surf around for the streaming station that sucks least.  No, I can browse choices in conveniently labeled folders that are nestled happily in my iTunes window.

I have always been an NPR fanatic, but iTunes radio has elevated me to psycho-obsession status.  Don’t think about interrupting Talk of the Nation, and God forbid I have to do something like use the restroom during KQED’s Forum.   I have never been so interested in topics like Iranian folk music or the complex theories of our new Nobel chemist.  The programming feeds my intellect and stimulates critical thought; newly inspired creativity wafts like a sea breeze over the wasteland hours.  Face it, when TV news stations  rely on “Now in HD!” to promote their broadcasts, NPR is a welcome breath of Fresh Air.  (Nice use of pun, if I may say so.)