r r\
Tuesday • June 9,1998
The Battalion
GGIELIFE
bj
V
h
)he
i Keys to
unlocking
the inner
frugal
gourmet
Gray
Whitten
staff writer
I’d Like to Buy
the World a
(Cheap) Coke
by Chris Martin
Good or evil. Ford or Chevy. PC
or Mac. Coke or Pepsi. In a di
chotomized world with only two
sides of the fence, these are the
choices one must make.
For those engaged in academic
pursuit, a multi-faceted world of
infinite choices unfolds like a pa
per fortune teller. One choice avail
able to the financially embarrassed
student is generic soda pop. As
.shame evaporates from the colle
giate mind, so to dries up the social
suicide involved in being spotted
[drinking a generic cola.
H-E-B Our Own Original Cola
Appearance: Their “original” is
packaged much like the “classic”
Coca-Cola. Seal on the front reads
“Value & Service Since 1905,”
which one hopes is not how long
it’s been sitting on the shelf. Beware
the skunky cola.
Taste: Low aftertaste, which is
good, but also low taste, which is
bad.
Parade Cola
Appearance: Diagonal geome
try in 1970s aesthetics. The most
generic looking of the bunch, like
one of those sitcom cans that sim
ply says “Cola.” A definite reputa
tion buster.
Taste: Like swishy hair tonic.
Albertson’s A+ Cola
Appearance: Clean and simple,
like a friendly neighborhood
checkout boy. Features a large “A+”
logo set in grunge type, bringing
C ollege is
a time
to think
of food differ
ently. At home
you may wake
up, have a
nice break
fast, grab a
sandwich for
lunch then
meet with the
family for
some quality
time around the dinner table.
The life of the world-class uni
versity student is not quite so orga
nized: wake up; drink a 20-ounce
bottle of Mountain Dewin hopes of
not falling asleep during software
engineering lecture; eat something
involving grease and cheese on the
way home from the library; supple
ment with fresh candy.
Then the late night urge to snack
appears, with absolutely no consid
eration to the fact that the pizza
joints have already closed. It’s up to
whatever is hiding in the pantry —
so often a lone box of Pop Tarts — or
one of their more economically
priced cousins.
graphic designer David Carson’s
pathetic aesthetic to the grocery
store aisles of America.
Taste: Slightly rubbery, like a
dog chew toy.
Sam’s American Choice Cola
Appearance: It’s Mom, Charlie
Brown, a Ford Festiva, profession
al wrestling and apple pie all rolled
into one.
Taste: Nicely sweet. It’s the cola
next door.
H-E-B Our Own Original Dr. B
Appearance: Again, I must
question the originality of any red
dish-brown can with a medical de
gree that didn’t come from Waco.
Taste: It’s cough syrup! Hey, that
explains the “Dr.,” right?
Dr. Parade
Appearance: Cool gradient stars
at the bottom of the can. Cool like
having to wear a Johnny Carson
sports jacket
M
N ^
E-mail
data-
a8ai
%
$
Off Your First Month’s Rent!]
$
$
$
%
$
Off Your Security
%
■Ii
, a w , *mWmm* SI
• > . : :v: . ^
*
' : wm
'
COUEGIAtt RESIDENCES
117 Holleman Drive West Tel.: (409) 696-5711
College Station .Texas 77840 Fax: (409) 696-5661
Office Hours
Mon-Sat 10-6
Sunday 12-6
Check Us Out on the World Wide Web:
www.dmcmgmtcom
An
Community
©
Developed fey
Dinerstein Companies
Those thinly frosted shingles be
come a food group of their own for
some people, myself included. Per
haps an analysis of a few of the
many varieties available to the
starving intellectual who doesn’t
like noodles is appropriate.
• Pop-Tarts
The granddaddy of them all.
Made by the good folks at Kellogg’s
and advertised relentlessly, Pop-
Tarts clock in at roughly 25 cents a
tart. When lightly heated these real
ly are tough to beat. One can as
sume all those sales profits have
been put to good use in the ever
growing field of tartology. With
evenly spread frosting and filling
that almost fills the edges, Pop-Tarts
score big in all categories. Try melt
ed butter for an added taste treat.
• Toastettes
Brought to you by the people re
sponsible for the Oreo — Nabisco.
Toastettes, like Pop-Tarts, come
eight to a box and score a 22-cent-
per-tart ratio. Generally softer and
less flavorful, I didn’t receive the
same cinnamony joy that I did with
the first example. And to be honest,
the translucent brown frosting does
nothing for its aesthetic appeal.
Taste: It tastes, I swear, ex
actly like a fresh-out-of-the blister
pack StarWars action figure smells.
Albertson’s A+ Dr. A+
Appearance: Traditional red
dish-brown can, but with shocking
blue square housing A+ logo. A
generic cola unashamed.
Taste: Free and easy. Absolutely
no hint that you are drinking car
bonated prune juice.
Sam’s American Choice Dr Thun
der
Appearance: The only “Dr.”
with no period at the end. Back
ground art is nearly identical to Dr.
B can, including vertical lettering.
However, the only thing that
should be called “Dr Thunder” is a
Lynyrd Skynyrd single or a cool ri
val Mercury Cougar on “The Dukes
ofHazzard.”
Taste: Sweeter than A+, not as
sweet as H-E-B.
Chalk it up to the cheapest per-tart
price of the three brands sampled.
You get what you pay for.
• Toast’ems
The food scientists at Flavor Kist
labs may have had spies over at
Nabisco. Toast’ems are very similar
to the Toastette. The fact that the
names are slightly different
helps promote this theory.
Featuring the most gen
erous frosting distribu
tion of the three brands
and filling that
seems to actu
ally be made
from ingredi
ents found in
the natural
world,
Toast’ems do
stand out a
bit. At 27
cents a tart,
they are the
most expen
sive. Maybe
they need
the cash to
pay off their
shiny new
web site.
Pop Tarts are the sentimental fa
vorite, but for pure chewing satis
faction don’t overlook the
Toast’ems. And if you’re one of the
lucky students who’s financial situ
ation demands you decide between
a super-sized lunch and a load of
laundry, there’s always Toastettes.
Hopefully this will help some lost
souls out there realize the
way to tart-induced happi
ness. Or at least avoid 4 a.m.
hunger pangs. Set the toast
er oven for low, and heat ‘em
up.
Member FDIC
First American Bank, SSB