What's in a Name?

The question I'm interested in exploring for this post is whether name brand food items are "better" for you, as many people (including myself, most of the time) assume. "Better" in this case would be defined as of higher quality, meaning healthier ingredients and taste.

My method was to compare the ingredients list, nutrition label, and price of the brand name products with their generic counterparts.

Welch's vs Safeway Grape Juice

The best identical side-by-side comparison of ingredient/nutrition lists I found was between the Safeway 100% Grape Juice and Welch's 100% Grape Juice. Juice is a pretty straight-forward item on the grocery shelves (let's hope the 100% juice doesn't have a huge list of ingredients, anyway), so it's fairly obvious that the two products should be the same. However, I bet many people reach for the Welch's juice anyway based on the company's labeling and TV advertisements-- simply because it looks better on the shelf-- even though it's the same product as the $1.00 cheaper Safeway juice.

Lucerne (left) vs Yoplait (right) light raspberry yogurt

I browsed the aisles a bit more and came to a product where, I believe, the generic brand was actually better in quality than the name brand. I compared Safeway's brand of Lucerne light raspberry yogurt with Yoplait's light red raspberry yogurt. The ingredients were roughly the same, except the Yoplait yogurt also listed Sugar, Citric Acid, Acetate, and used Aspartame as a sweetener whereas Lucerne used Sucralose. The Lucerne product was 0.40 cents cheaper per pound and had a much more familiar ingredients list. On this particular product I decided to do a taste test, and bought the two items. My conclusion was that the Yoplait item was more flavorful and sweet, but the items were definitely similar in taste quality.

Kellogg's ($3.50) vs Great Value ($2.68)

To further explore generic quality items, I ventured to Moscow's Walmart. There I found the sugary wonder of Walmart's generic substitute for Kellogg's Frosted Flakes, named Great Value Sugar Frosted Flakes. Again, there was about a dollar difference in the two items (Great Value for $2.68, Kellogg's for $3.50) but it became quickly apparent that they were different products, ingredient-wise. The Great Value listed degermed yellow corn meal (rather than Kellogg's milled corn) and high fructose corn syrup. In the nutrition label, the Great Value box displayed 13 grams of sugar per 3/4 cup (compared to Kellogg's 8 grams for 3/4 cup), 200 mg of sodium (vs Kellogg's 160mg), and only 2% fiber (compared to Kellogg's 10%.) I didn't buy these two for a taste test, but it seems that the slightly-more-spendy Kellogg's would be the healthier choice.

As Michael Pollan put it in a recent article on his website, "there are generics, and then there are generics." His point here is that some generic brands are nearly identical in terms of ingredients to the brand name foods (meaning you're just paying for the fancy label and advertising if you buy the brand name), but other generic brands actually compromise quality by being reformulated or made with cheap ingredients. The link to the article is here:

http://michaelpollan.com/articles-archive/michael-pollan-answers-readers-questions/

I was able to discover both of the two "types" of generics on the grocery aisle shelves-- the one essentially the same as the brand name (i.e. Welch's vs Safeway Grape Juice) and the one made with varying (and often questionable) ingredients (i.e. Kellogg's vs Great Value's Frosted Flakes.)

So, the brand name doesn't always mean the product is "better" than the generic item. If you're smart about your grocery shopping, taking time to compare and contrast labels can keep you from spending unnecessary money on brand name items, or expose some unsettling generic substitutes you should avoid. There's always merit in investigating.

A Novice Critique

This week's prompt was to perform a local restaurant review. I've often heard about and passed by the Alehouse in Moscow, but the first time I ventured in was a few weeks ago, wandering in with a couple of friends around 7 p.m. on a Saturday night. The place was packed, but we found the wait was worth it and it became one of my favorite restaurants. I wanted to review it for this blog not only because my first experience lured me to go back, but because I was curious to experience the Alehouse on a night when it didn't require a 20-minute wait or an hour and a half to complete a meal. So, I chose a Sunday evening. Here's the critique:

ALEHOUSE

Quality: 8.6 stars
Atmosphere: 8.2 stars
Cost: 7.2 stars
Service: 8.8 stars
(*based on a 10-star scale, with 10 being the most favorable)

Credit Cards: Visa, American Express
Attire: Casual
Features: Outdoor Seating, Rotating Bottle Selections, Local Drafts





The Sunday-night experience begins with a casual greeting from a "Please Seat Yourself" sign posted near the entrance. The typical college-going student and group of friends have a choice of booth, wooden tables, or bar for seating amidst strategically placed flatscreen TVs displaying the Sunday night football game.You choose a booth and sit down to find paper menus already in place, and a laminated flip chart offering a variety of beverages. The drink options are expansive, ranging from many types of beer to martinis to whiskey. You also flip through an appetizer menu, and are surprised to find "Fresh Local Hummus" as an option, but your guy friends aren't really into hummus.

A waiter introduces himself, and gives you a few moments to browse the impressive number of local drafts. The drafts have entertaining nicknames, such as "Pike's Kilt Lifter," or "Rogue Dead Guy Pale Ale," and as you are generally confused about the differences between a Porter or a Stout, you decide to split whichever pitcher your guy friends order. They choose the Bitteroot Huck N Honey draft from Hamilton, Montana. They also order an appetizer of the Alehouse's seasoned chili fries. Once more, you go with it.

A few other college students trickle in while you wait for your order. You notice the dark wood on the bar they sit at; the chalkboard menus posted behind them and the hunter-green accents of the place. There are murmured conversations, the faint drone of the sportscaster, and it is growing dark outside. You decide there is a laid-back rustic quality, something cabin-esque about the place, and you relax. From this vantage you can see the top-halves of the chefs working in the kitchen, and hear the soft clink of dishes. You notice rows of coffee mugs hang from the ceiling above the bar, and as you survey them you decide to add "personality" to your positive list of descriptors.

Soon the beer arrives. Your friend pours four glasses and you, not being much of a beer drinker and not having high expectations, are pleasantly surprised. From your inexperienced pallet, you assign the adjectives "light" and "sweet." Your friend remarks on the "honey vibe" and another describes a fruity aftertaste. Shortly after, the fries arrive, warm and heaped to perfection. Sprinkled with Rosemary, loaded with small black beans, and "Real cheese!" as one of your friends puts it. The taste doesn't disappoint-- the fries are crisp, not soggy (or aren't given the chance to become so), and are heartily devoured.

Time for the main meal. The menu is pleasantly varied, including interesting picks under each of the subheadings of Soups and Salads, Wraps, Sandwiches, Burgers, and Grain Room (pasta options). You choose the Hula burger, and substitute the beef patty for grilled chicken. Upon arrival, the aesthetic appeal doesn't disappoint (at least for the hungry college kid.) The chicken has been draped with a large slice of ham and melting swiss; a beautifully grilled pineapple ring sits juicy on top. You pick up the lightly-grilled top bun on the left of your plate to find pickles, onions, and lettuce waiting underneath. You eat the pickles separately first, avoid the onions like usual, and then simply place the bun on top and take your first bite. It's glorious. Moist chicken with a burst of sweet pineapple and hint of salt from the ham blend harmoniously in your mouth. Your next bite is a crisp french fry, also pleasantly sprinkled with Rosemary and still warm. You rinse it down with a sweet swig of Huck N Honey. Life is probably complete. Or at least dinner is.

The check comes to around $20, after splitting the appetizer and pitcher, but you're satisfied with the quality of your meal, timely service, and good company. You're impressed they include a survey with the check, encouraging reviews on menu variety, service, and restaurant cleanliness, and well as prompting for beer or brewery suggestions on tap. You give it a high review, "Like" the Alehouse's page on Facebook, and rank the overall appeal at 8 stars in your blog for class.

You make plans for Tuesday evening there.