What came first, the chicken or the Eggo Brunch in a Jar drinkable alcoholic flavored batter?
Eric Felten
“More Americans than at any time in the past two decades now say drinking alcohol [even in moderation] is bad for one’s health,” report the opinion johnnies at Gallup, who have been asking since 2001 whether alcohol is detrimental. More than a third think drink, even in moderation, is unhealthy. That’s a significant increase over 20 years ago. The growing disdain for drink, we are told, is being designated-driven by young adults. A more salubrious alternative, the young prohibitionists tell Gallup, is marijuana.
In some ways, I have to agree that even one drink can be damaging — dramatically so. My wife and I recently went to the swanky new roof-terrace bar at the Kennedy Center. My significant other ordered an Aperol spritz, a drink normally treated as so inexpensive to make — Aperol, prosecco, club soda, and ice in a goblet — that restaurants in Italy seem to serve the stuff as promiscuously as Mexican restaurants make with the chips and salsa. But when the barman got to the fizzy wine part of the drink, he did not pour prosecco. He asked my wife whether she would like the drink made with “cava” or “brut.” Not particularly liking cava, and not quite thinking through the consequence of the choice, she said, “Brut.” When it was time to pay, we found that the cocktail had been made with Moet-Chandon brut champagne, and it cost $35. Clearly, a single drink can do some damage.
FROM TEDDY ROOSEVELT WHISKEY TO MINNESOTA BOURBON
One can’t blame young adults for their scornful opinion of Mr. Booze. The drinking cultures of high schoolers and college students put an emphasis on blind-drunk overconsumption. Asked by Gallup about moderate drinking, former frat bros are likely to think they are being asked about how healthy it is to guzzle one 12-pack of crap beer as compared with two.
And then what happens when they grow up? They are encouraged to drink childish quaffs. At liquor stores across the country, one can now buy “Eggo Brunch in a Jar.” Here’s how Kellogg’s touts this enormity: The “creamy liqueur seamlessly blends the flavors of toasted Eggo waffles, sweet maple syrup and rich butter, with a hint of smoky bacon.” One can’t help but be reminded of the Willy Wonka invention of roast beef dinner gum, with its delicious blueberry pie finish and its unfortunate instability that turns the obnoxious Violet Beauregarde herself into a blueberry.
Eggos have always been sold as a quickie child’s food. And Kellogg’s seems aware (if insufficiently so) that there’s something a bit off in selling a juiced-up version of a product marketed primarily to 10-year-olds. And so Kellogg’s is at pains to maintain that it only means for adults to drink their breakfast. As the man who holds the title of senior director of marketing for frozen foods at Kellogg’s put it, “Between the juggle of constantly changing schedules, household errands, family outings or busy workdays, it can often feel impossible for parents to find moments they can savor for themselves.” So caring. Thus, “Eggo Brunch in a Jar makes it easy for parents to kick back when they’re not caring for their little ones.” Ah, yes, get the tykes all snug in their cribs on a Sunday morning and reward yourself with some sugary batter and bacon-flavored alcoholic glop. Is it any wonder that young adults are wary of what’s being sold to them in bottles?
Let us be clear, however, that the street slang for the powerful, dissociative drug ketamine — Special K — is not sanctioned by Kellogg’s, which holds the trademark. Still, a case could be made that Ketamine Flakes would help young parents relax after a long day of chasing after toddlers, and the marketers’ arguments for it would not sound any different than the PR patter for Eggo Brunch in a Jar. Luckily, even in this late period of alcohol-cultural degradation, I think we can all agree that would just be wrong — even if not nearly as wrong as a $35 Aperol spritz.
CLICK HERE TO READ MORE FROM THE WASHINGTON EXAMINER
Eric Felten is the James Beard Award-winning author of How’s Your Drink?