"Chris Voigt, Executive Director of the Washington State Potato Commission and the guy who willingly put himself on a nothing-but-potatoes diet in order to prove


Greatest Hits and What You Missed: Sandra Lee, Milwaukee's Best, Barry Maniloaf and a Sloth


"Chris Voigt, Executive Director of the Washington State Potato Commission and the guy who willingly put himself on a nothing-but-potatoes diet in order to prove how awesome the humble spud really is--has done it. He has made it through 60 days of eating (essentially) nothing but potatoes and lived to tell the tale. At midnight tonight, his trial will be over. He will be able, once again, to eat any damn thing he wants. Chris Voigt will be a free man."

From "Chris Voigt: Potato Pimp Turned Potato Master".


"Drinkers who have been led to believe that Milwaukee's Best beer could be improved upon in a 'premium' form have been misled. After a four-month Voracious investigation, a spokesperson for Milwaukee's Best Premium's parent company, Miller Brewing Co., has confirmed that Milwaukee's Best Premium is the exact same recipe as Milwaukee's Best, but in a new packaging and with a new name."

The results of a Voracious investigation which proved that "Milwaukee's Best Premium Is Actually Just Milwaukee's Best, but With a New Name, and In a New Can."


"For more than a century, delis in New York have been serving up enormous sandwiches filled with Italian meats. But it wasn't until the 1930s that a food critic at the New York Tribune named Clementine Paddleford noticed the trend and quipped that it would take a hero to finish such a thing. Since then the term "hero" sandwich has evolved to include anything on an oblong bun, generally with an Italian flavor. But mostly its just a big-ass sandwich.

As a menu item its rare to find a 'hero' here on the left coast, but we have plenty of delis and cafes serving up ginormous, meat-packed sandwiches that take a lion's heart to completely consume. Here are this city's top five versions..."

From "Seattle's Top Five Hero Sandwiches," a delicious investigation.


"In the history of American gastronomy, the notion of eating the whole animal--of going at it nose-to-tail--is a new thing. Or rather, it's the oldest thing in the world (the way everyone ate before their were restaurants on every corner and grocery stores on every block), but the appreciation of it is modern. The love of offal, of organ meats, the questing after unpopular cuts of beef like they were jewels and of breaking down pigs and deer and rabbits and cows into smaller and smaller constituent (and tasty) parts--these are all something that has only recently been made popular on a wide scale by a lot of very smart chefs and cooks, and they have all made our dining scene that much more vital, bloody and delicious."

From "Stuff We Like: Eating the Whole Beast"


"I admit that her technique lacks refinement. Her "French porkchops" look like they belong floating in a glass jar of formaldehyde on the dusty shelf of a museum of oddities. Her recipe for "Chicken Marsala" seemed woefully incorrect until I realized that it was, in fact, a recipe for Chicken Masala. And to anyone foolish enough to actually drink one of her syrupy cocktails, the muffled "nooo..." you just heard came from your pancreas. I must give her credit, though, because she's somehow overcome the greatest technological hurdle since space travel: She's figured out a way to make ice cream resemble a baked potato! Ferran Adria, take notes."

The Surly Gourmand decides who would win in the fight "Sandra Lee v. a Pale-Throated Sloth"


"Only the finest meatloaf, prepared with love and then infused with the delicate strains of 'Copacabana,' 'I Write The Songs' and 'Somewhere Down the Road.' Barry Maniloaf is guaranteed to be the softest, tenderest, most inoffensive meatloaf you have ever tasted. Plus, your grandma might throw her panties at it."

Entry number 4 in our list of "7 New Media-Infused Food Products, In Honor Of Japan's Mozart Bananas"

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