A curious little friend came to me with a food related query the other day.  It seemed that he had recently launched himself into the world of marijuana and found himself constantly hungry.  He described the hunger that followed a series of bong rips as insatiable, unlike anything he had experienced before.  This set his mind a-flutter.  Why, he asked, did most marijuana users seem so skinny if hunger was a voracious side effect?  Was it the act of smoking, and if so, why did cigarettes always seem to curb his appetite?  If (and this is a hypothetical) he were to smoke marijuana again, were there any tricks that he could use to cut his intake and avoid feeling like his stomach was going to rupture as he awoke the next morning?

While I struggled mightily to answer his questions from personal experience, I made it my mission to answer this confused gentleman’s questions and fully illuminate the indelible connections between munchies and marijuana.

The molecule of importance is a cannabinoid.  This is contained within the crystals of THC (delta-9-tetrahydracannabinol, also known as the crystally stuff that gets you high) and, when it binds with cannabinoid receptors in the brain, triggers hunger.  The vast majority of these receptors are located in the parts of the brain that control pleasure (along with time perception, concentration, and any other things that a stoned person seems to have trouble with).  This creates a double whammy.  Not only is a person’s hunger triggered (regardless of whether their body needs caloric fuel), but the stimulation of their pleasure center makes eating, a wholly sensual experience, seem fantastic.  This means that your mom’s apple cobbler will taste even more divine than usual.  But it also means that a Chalupa from Taco Bell can taste like it was flown in straight from Mexico City.  This discovery also shows that it is not the act of smoking that triggers hunger.  In fact, nicotine generally suppresses appetite and the act of smoking cigarettes can damage tastebuds and succeed in making food less wonderful.  I still wouldn’t recommend smoking as a cure for obesity.  Nicotine’s role as a stimulant is to increase the heart rate, which can be bad news in someone whose heart is already being pushed to the limit.

Interestingly enough, research in marijuana has actually given scientists insight into weight loss techniques.  By identifying the receptors that marijuana stimulates—and thus the ones that control hunger—teams hypothesized that blocking these receptors could have the opposite effect.  Experiments with lab mice confirmed this. 

The question with the least (read none) amount of scientific evidence concerning it was why pot smokers are skinny.  Luckily, I was able to find a message board following a marijuana.com survey where heavy users discussed this very issue.  Many attributed it to the fact that marijuana is primarily used by the young, who themselves weigh proportionately less than the rest of society.  Some said that many marijuana smokers don’t have very much money, and, if they do they spend it on weed.  This seems counterintuitive to me, however, because buying the cheapest food (McDonald’s) can often be the worst.  A couple mentioned that weed helped them learn self-discipline, because, after three instances of eating 2 dozen donuts a piece, they recognized that pattern couldn’t continue.  By withstanding the munchies, they were much better able to control sober cravings.  One final user said he thought marijuana increased metabolism (false), but then mentioned that he sees the world through bloodshot eyes.

In the aggregate, things do not look good for someone trying to eat healthy while maintaining a daily pot habit.  My friend, although discouraged by this information, merely vowed to change his buying habits, only keeping healthy items in the house and thus ruining his ability to snack.  I wish him good luck and hope the reader(s) of this column stay skinny and beautiful.  Good luck!

References:
http://www.articlesbase.com/health-articles/can-smoking-help-you-lose-weight-384952.html
http://drugabuse.gov/infofacts/marijuana.html
http://www.marijuana.com/surveys-polls-questions/130382-why-everybody-so-skinny-2.html

The vices one can fall into in college are plentiful.  The lure of easy drug access can be unflinchingly strong, as can the big-money possibilities of incessant gambling.  Some fall prey to the burrito, pizza slice, or burger; late night food options that are splendid when used with restraint, but can turn dangerous in excess.  Luckily, I have avoided allowing any of these options to dominate my life.  There is, however, one snack that I cannot turn down.  Again and again it ruins any dietary restrictions I, my doctor, or people vaguely concerned about my health have presented. What is this addiction?

The Milkshake.

Now I could just go on denying that I have a milkshake problem, and discreetly sip them in my room after a long night (or day) out at a party (or at class).  But that would be wasting my acumen, destroying the years of knowledge I have accumulated and could pass on.  Instead, I’ve decided to use my powers for good, and the four milkshake havens that have alternately provided bliss and self-loathing.  These rankings are my own, and I decided not to include more mainstream milkshake-selling organizations because they don’t fit the qualifications of my arbitrary category.  The milkshakes must be served at a fast food place (diners included) whose primary product is not the milkshake—because milkshakes are rarely a primary objective on a late night walk home.  The pizza slices and neon signs are what draw you in, and the milkshake is just a heavenly addendum.*

Pizza Bob’s:  The standard towards which all other milkshakes aspire.  I would compare the chocolate-peanut butter shake to ambrosia, but it so obviously is ambrosia that I’d just be calling a delicious kettle black.  By far the thickest of those sampled, there were still chunks of solid peanut butter floating around in the rest of the liquid.  The straw given (a big deal for me) was remarkably sturdy, which was necessary considering how hard one would have to pull to get a hit of Pizza Bob’s trademark otherwise.  Officer Reese’s would certainly approve of this chocolate-peanut butter connection.

Ranking: 10/10

Bell’s: The first impression leaves one with the thought that they just visited a subpar Dairy Queen, while the second is of a synthetic aftertaste (possibly from the unidentified liquid chocolate they use).  The peanut butter was very insubstantial and only made its presence known in the initial flavor rush, right after the transfer from straw to tongue.  The remaining chocolate flavoring is of too low quality to salvage this concoction.  A flimsy straw was provided, only reinforcing this shake’s inadequacy.

Ranking: 4/10

Quickie Burger: The amount of peanut butter shoved into Quickie’s chocolate-peanut butter milkshake is astounding.  While the shake itself is relatively thin (only slightly thicker than Bell’s and a far cry from Pizza Bob’s), the peanut butter makes swishing the shake around and savoring it difficult.  I now understand the predicament dogs face when they have peanut butter in their mouth.  Despite this, I respect Quickie’s generous portions (both in size and of their ingredients) and their thick straw.  Middling to mediocre.

Ranking: 6/10

Mr. Spot’s: DISCLAIMER: Mr. Spot’s (unlike the rest of the places surveyed) only carries chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry.  However, due to their amazing proclivity to tastily produce everything else on their menu, I decided to allow their presence on my list (choosing chocolate), but with a one-point penalty for a lack of options.  Sipping on just chocolate, I immediately noticed how their thickness was Goldilock’s-level right.  A tid bit thinner than Pizza Bob’s, the interplay between ice cream and milk was perfect. Though their choice of a thin straw was unfortunate, their use of quality chocolate ice cream was difficult to overlook.

8/10 MINUS 1 for a lacking menu= 7/10

There you have it:

1. Pizza Bob’s
   
2. Mr. Spot’s
   
3. Quickie Burger
   
4. Bell’s
   

Have fun gaining weight! 

* These rankings are based upon the texture, ingredient quality, portioning of the ingredients (is there too much chocolate?), and my own personal preferences, which may not reflect the reader’s in any way.  All milkshakes ordered were chocolate-peanut butter, unless otherwise mentioned.

As my college life winds down, my list of regrets is long.  I’ve never developed a meaningful relationship with a professor, never participated in Dance Marathon, never went streaking anywhere on campus, and never, um, had fun in the Grad’s stacks.  However, I am pleased to say that I discovered the tastiest and friendliest bakery in Ann Arbor (and most likely Southeast Michigan).  It’s called Great Harvest Bread and it’s located in the plaza on Main St that has Busch’s market, Blockbuster, and Qdoba, among other establishments.

A stroke of luck and curiosity brought me here a few months ago.  When I stumbled in, I was astounded at the array of fresh baked breads (they make them right in the store daily) that are offered, along with a bevy of pastries, spreads, and sugary delights.  The owners cultivate a community atmosphere and each employee knows and loves all the products.  You can sample any bread that has been baked that day (and their sample consists of a shockingly large slice, you are not getting a Meijer sized bread crumb) with no pressure to buy.  My first day I nibbled on some Asiago Pesto Bread and followed that up with trying their Extreme Cinnamon.  When I reached for my back pocket and found it empty, there were no narrow glares or bread knives thrown my way.  Only a “Pleasure to meet you, Nick!”.

Since that day, I’ve purchased twenty-one loaves (my punchcard says so), ranging from Jalapeno & Cheese Cornbread to Apricot, Cherry, & Walnut.  Every day brings a new selection of tantalizing concoctions.  In fact, here’s the menu:  http://www.greatharvestaa.com/menus/breads/.  While each bread has its own merits, the one that has set Scarlett Johanssen-level standard of leavened beauty is their Guinness and Cheese.  When they make the bread, they simply use Guinness instead of water, which provides a remarkably smooth and rich taste with delicious overtones of barley.  As an added bonus, none of their products contain any preservatives, as they believe that we shouldn’t eat anything we can’t pronounce (I’m not sure about their feelings on escargot).

Often overshadowed are Great Harvest’s collection of Michigan made jams, chutneys, honeys, and peanut butters.  While a bit pricy (you can spend $8 on a small jam, which is more than a loaf of bread), they last much longer, thanks to the intense flavor of their natural and fresh ingredients.
The pastries and cookies are fresh made daily as well, with a rotation similar to that of the breads.  Personally, I’ve found the blueberry and sour cream muffins to be unbeatable, although anyone with a pumpkin fetish could make an argument for the chocolate chip pumpkin creations.  The vanilla pecan scones are delicieux too.  And the eggnog teacake.  It’s all good.
I’d consider it a personal favor for anyone (and one might be right) who reads this article to hit up this bakery and bask in its splendor.  You’d regret not doing it.  

State Street has long been an untapped mine for late night food establishments, meaning that those faced with long walks to Catherine Street or North Quad have been forced to go to bed hungry and slightly healthier than the rest of the student body.  Five Guys burgers recognized this opportunity and pounced with a new location that opened Monday.

I, like many native Michiganders, had not had the fortune to sample Five Guys fare.  A fortuitous connection in Washington DC’s airport forced my hand.  I was dangerously hungover, and a bit nauseous from my previous flight’s heart-stopping descent.  This put me in a perfect position to replicate the average Five Guys customer; I headed straight for the counter.  

I first noticed Five Guys departure from the standard fast food ideal of cheap food quickly.  Their establishment had signs all around trumpeting their meat’s never frozen existence and French fries’ incomparable freshness.  This aroused my skepticism, as I doubted that a six dollar burger (or any fast food French fries) could ever be described as “quality”.  

To my surprise, the menu was relatively sparse, featuring only burgers, fries, hot dogs, and a few breakfast sandwiches.  Even McDonald’s, with their litany of health-zapping options, dwarfed their selection.  Five Guys ascribed to the Blimpy Burger school of burger thought, offering any combination of ketchup, mustard, lettuce, pickles, tomatoes, relish, BBQ sauce, grilled onions, grilled mushrooms, hallucinogenic mushrooms, jalapenos, hot sauce, and green peppers  for no extra cost (OK, I made one of those up.  Someday, it’ll happen.).

I chose a regular sized burger with onions, mushrooms, jalapenos, hot sauce, ketchup, and green peppers along with an order of the Cajun spiced fries and a Mr. Pibb (I was astounded and impressed by this option).  A sign said today’s French fries were delivered fresh from Blue Mountain, Washington, a bastion of potato related products.  While waiting for the food, I mentally approved of the malt vinegar offered at the condiment station.

The regular sized burger was above average (but remember, I’m hungover and my senses are all magnified) and an American self parody as it probably contained over a half pound of meat (in two patties).  After finishing I launched into the Cajun fries, and I found them to be delectable.  They were thick cut and obviously fresh, which is something I never thought I would say about a fast food restaurant.  The seasoning was wonderful and portion (in keeping with their pattern) huge.  

Five Guys cannot be viewed in a burger vacuum, however.  Its success will be based on its competition with the perfectly positioned Quickie Burger and Food Network featured Blimpy Burger.  On this continuum, Five Guys is far more of a Quickie than a Blimpy.  It may taste good for the five minutes that it lasts, but there’s no real satisfaction.  Providing options is a dangerous endeavor in a town where Blimpy offers feta cheese, unlimited patties, and your choice of bun.  Five Guys burgers’ can’t beat that array.  While the fries are worth coming back for, so are Quickie’s sweet potato ones.  Five Guys, like Quickie, seemed to only have one go to move.   Blimpy is an entity that keeps you coming back for more.  So State Street residents, know that Five Guys can bring you a bit of desperately needed pleasure, but the whole package is lacking.  

As a waiter, there are two words above all others that pique my ire: “Well done.”

Anytime I encounter a customer wishing to turn their steak or burger into a hockey puck, I use all my available restraint to stop from sitting down at their booth and giving them a John Madden-like breakdown detailing how wrong he or she is.  Instead, I spill all my pent up emotion into an blog post that I’ll print out and present with their bill.

I get it.  People don’t want to get sick from eating undercooked meat, so they error on the side of extreme, irrational caution and stay in the well done comfort zone.  Unfortunately for them, their logic is flawed.  All burgers or steaks at a restaurant must be cooked to a minimum temperature of 160 degrees Fahrenheit.  At this point, all the little harmful bacteria have perished, leaving only a tasty, safe hamburger.  The difference between rare and well lies in how long the burger is left on the grill.

Choosing a well done burger means succumbing to a dry, less savory eating experience.  Even the USDA says, “ Overcooking draws out more fat and juices from ground beef, resulting in a dry, less tasty product.”   THAT’S THE USDA.  They (most of the time) have consumers’ best interests at heart.  A hamburger patty gains much of its flavor from the juices and fat contained within it.  The extra five minutes on the grill evaporate much of that moisture and cause the fat to sizzle out.  There’s a reason that high end steakhouses refuse to cook an entrée past the point of medium.  They can’t guarantee its high quality.  By choosing well done, the customer is engaging in a heart-wrenching game of reductionism, in which all pieces of meat regress to the same quality.  It’s akin to paying $12 for a glass of Franzia.  

In my efforts to retain some semblance of journalistic integrity, I researched recipes for well done burgers.  Ignoring the fact that they all said If you are absolutely committed to cooking your burger well done, I found that the most promising did everything possible to masque the dry, salty flavor of the patty with glorious accoutrements.  One suggested adding carmelized fennel and onions.  Another altered the idea of a burger entirely by covering it with fajita fixings (which sounds fantastic).  The final recipe involved making a panade (a paste made from bread and milk) and incorporating it into the patty, so that it would retain moisture.  That sounds great, until you realize that you could save 15 minutes by simply cooking your burger less.

Well done is simply a vestige of lost times.  Times when there was no guarantee that meat was safe or the person cooking it hadn’t just handled raw chicken, pork, hamburger, and his hair in succession.  So please, please prevent irrationality from determining your cooking duration, and join the denizens who have embraced quality and happiness over fear.

Google’s cafeteria has been a subject of lore for foodies and engineers alike since its inception way, way back in the early 2000s.  Employees view the post employment Google weight gain as inevitable — one even more difficult to escape than those extra freshman year pounds.  And after spending one day in California gorging on their fare, I whole-heartedly agree.
Their main Mountain View office is set up like a college campus with different eateries corresponding to different dorms.  It ate at (not Good Time) Charley’s, which evolved from a free food operation run by an ambitious Google chef back in the day of Windows Millennium.  Another option was the No Name Café, which displayed vegetarian fare (this can still be unhealthy, as evidenced by the Markley style soft serve machine countless employees gathered around).  Also present was a cafeteria that only serves food from less than 150 miles away, making it the noblest of destinations.  

Charley’s, however, was the place to be, as evidenced by its 600 person capacity, as well as a constant cavalcade of jugglers, tightropers, dog-walkers, and casual bikers. Plus, there’ life-size plaster T-Rex skeleton, and you can’t beat that.  With a plate in hand, I discarded all concerns about professionalism and aimed to eat as much food as Mr. Timmy Tummy (that’s what I call my stomach) would allow.  I began with some fresh lobster, crab, and sundried tomato pizza, which the chef said was, “pretty standard.”  Pretty standard for that chef far outdistanced any slice I’ve had on Michigan’s campus.  I then moved on to the crowded sushi corridor, and gathered as much raw octopus and squid as my body could possibly handle.  After that, I ambled to the Indian food section, where they had a divine chicken tikka masala served over jasmine rice.  I would have felt foolish stopping there, however, and moved to the Mexican corridor, where el gordo size burritos were being made to order with fresh grilled veggies and homemade guacamole.  Google makes enough money where they don’t believe in cutting costs.  After carefully positioning my three plates on my tray, I cycled over to the hot sandwich station, where chicken pesto sandwich (with free range chicken!) awaited me.  I went back to my table.  I ate with all the other recruits.  Even exchanged nods with some who felt a similar need to engorge in a day and a half’s worth of calories.

Google stresses the ability to make tough decisions quickly, and I did so when I decided against grabbing a Kobe beef burger and instead focusing on the desserts.  The straight out of the oven cranberry crumble cake was good, as were the peanut butter cookies that seemed to contain an entire container of Jif.  What really blew my mind and left ventricle was their homemade ice cream sandwiches.  Picture a block of vanilla ice cream.  Then place an oatmeal raisin cookie on both sides.  Coat the entire product in chocolate.  Coat it again in chocolate.  Eat.
Most of the Google employees say that they feel compelled to use the free gym facilities on campus after lunch.  I, however, would prefer to utilize the free massage or napping parlors also located around campus.  Whatever the choice, a moment of reflection about a lunch made fit for John Goodman is a necessity.     

With some of us starting to take baby steps towards the scary job world, the prospect of business lunches becomes steeped in reality.  After having been through a couple myself, I thought it would be appropriate to share my meager words of wisdom.

Depending on the time of day your interview is scheduled, the lunch could either take place prior to your questioning or after.  The tips for pre-interview business lunches are pretty simple.  Don’t eat very much, unless you want the phrase “word vomit” to take on a more literal sense during your meeting with the vice president of human resources.  Also, you can’t risk a food coma outbreak that might distract you from efforts to glorify all your past experiences.  So that’s easy.
If you were to search for business lunch etiquette on Google, the articles would all state about the same things.  Be polite, don’t be messy, act like you’ve eaten lunch with another human before, don’t grip your fork and a knife in a way that suggests you’re thinking of using them as weapons, etc.  Important tips, but ideas that most people would find basic.  After talking with a couple of people who take the candidates out, I was able to glean a more comprehensive picture of what activities are appropriate.  

First, it’s important to remember that the recruiters are still judging you during this meal.  In fact, think of it as an interview that focuses on your ability to be personable.  It’s important to stay animated and ask pertinent, insightful questions about the job, while also bringing up some interests and activities that people would, you know, talk about over lunch.  Sports are great, tv shows are wonderful, but be certain to avoid seeming overly judgmental.  This is not the time to debate the merits of “The Wire.”

For actual food orders, I’ve always followed the recruiter’s lead and ordered food of approximately the same quantity.  Focus on ordering something that’s light and easy to eat without dripping all over chin.  I happen to think salads are a great option.  Doing this shows that you understand there is more work to come and you have the self-discipline not to overeat.  But if you only order a cup of soup while your recruiter gets a full pasta dish, it can make the interaction awkward and unseemly.  Also, view this as an opportunity to demonstrate your prowess as a foodie.  Plain chicken strips will not impress anyone, but a goat cheese and walnut salad shows that you have some knowledge of yummy foods and could provide a conversation starter.  Also effective is asking the server what dish he or she prefers out of a couple you’re deciding between.  The idea of appealing to expert help when necessary will not be overlooked by someone looking to hire you.  If the recruiter wants to order dessert, once again follow the lead.  Nobody wants to be the only person eating dessert.  As an added bonus, it’s likely to be delectable.  These restaurants tend to be relatively high end, so make sure to savor.

On a final note, don’t drink.  While those with you may order a beer or glass of wine, I think it’s best to stay away from that situation entirely.  You already have a level of post-interview relaxation, so adding (even a little) alcohol into the equation could lead you into inappropriate comment or joke zone.  So while Mad Men’s Roger Sterling may be disappointed at your reticence, remember that the days of downing martinis with your prospective managers have disappeared along with typewriters and musicians who play their flaming guitar with their teeth.

Most importantly, be happy.  The recruiter will be.  They get to expense report an awesome meal.  Good luck and have fun!

Tailgate food is a subject about which thousands have written and, to be honest, it’s not very difficult (save for JF’s amazing caper pepper barbeque, which is featured right here).  Get some meat.  Cook the meat until you’re not afraid of catching a disease.  Eat the meat, maybe with bread.  Although I usually skip that and just shove a couple of mustard covered hot dogs in my mouth—side note, never ever make eye contact with someone you’re not talking to when eating a bunless hot dog, or a banana for that matter.  It’s awkward.  With many thanks to my wonderful mother, however, I’ve learned to create the perfect finger food: spice and cream and meat, all joined in harmony between your forefinger and thumb.  The treat? Stuffed jalapenos. 

Ingredients:


1 tube Bob Evans Sausage (Original Recipe)

1 Cup shredded parmesan cheese

 One 8 oz block of cream cheese (room temperature)

20 Jalapeno peppers (or more, depending on whom you’re trying to feed.) I usually go with about 100, because 40 jalapeno halves only feed my house up to 10 am).


Directions:

1. Cook Sausage and drain excess grease.

2. Cut jalapeno's lengthwise down the middle, creating halves.  If you’re a supertaster, scoop seeds out of jalapeno's.  Otherwise, grow a backbone.

3. Combine the sausage, cream cheese and parmesan cheese and mix well with your hands.

4. Eat a lot of the sausage, cream cheese and parmesan mix with your hands.  (Not recommended during flu season.)  It’s not necessary, but certainly delicious.

4. Scoop a small amount of the sausage mixture into each Jalapeno. (You should have enough jalapenos to fill one cookie sheet.)

5. Bake at 400 degrees for approximately 20 minutes.

Once they’re done, they come out of the oven looking like this:

Enjoy.