For 38 weeks, the only thing that would satisfy my immense appetite was red meat. I had a violent craving for steak, severely well-done and dripping not in blood, but a tangy surrogate: ketchup. I chewed the dry, tough meat for what seemed like hours, rendering the twine-like fibers into a thick cud and pausing only…
On Sunday, we learned Donald Trump eats his steak well-done with ketchup. If you’ve ever eaten steak—in Trump’s case, an expensive, tender piece of New York strip—you probably know that well-done with ketchup is simply not the way to go. The president should give medium-rare a try, not only for the sake of his palate,…
This burger from Plan Check in Los Angeles already looks delicious but what makes it a must eat is the “ketchup leather” inside the burger. It’s basically ketchup in the shape and form of a Fruit Roll-Up. Or like a cheese slice of ketchup. Or like awesomeness in a square. Food Steez visited the restaurant to see how…
When Daniel Korell scanned a QR code on a bottle of Heinz Ketchup, he got more than he bargained for. Rather than bring up the competition page he was expecting to see, it instead linked to a German porn site called Fundorado. Oops.
Forget making cars more green—Ford and Heinz have a plan that adds a little red to the mix. In fact, they're entering into a collaboration to use remnants from ketchup to make parts for new cars.
Ketchup, that delicious nectar of a condiment, is more annoying than it should be to pour out and enjoy. Why? Partly because of the dumb bottle it's in but mostly because it's a non-newtonian fluid in more than one way. Watch TED-Ed explain why it's so damn hard to pour out and what you should do instead in this…
Alright, confess! WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS? America spent $2 billion in mayonnaise last year ($0 of which came from my pocket), beating out hot sauce, mustard, and, yes, even ketchup, to become the number one condiment in the U.S.
The Heinz ketchup bottle has become a mainstay of family dinners and greasy diners alike, and it's for this precise reason that its iconic shape so often goes overlooked. The ketchup bottle's familiar glass frame comes with a rich, fascinating history that, fortunately for us, Co.Design has been kind enough to dig up.
You thought those small condiment cups you get at fast food restaurants only held a thimble's worth of ketchup, right? You were wrong. Horribly, brutally wrong. Turns out you can fan them out, meaning you can dunk your fries by the fistful into a sea of crimson tomato deliciousness. Consider your life forever changed.
Getting ketchup out of a bottle is a massive unsolved engineering problem. Plastic squeezy bottles, upside down bottles, tapping the 57, just shove a butter knife in there—none really does the job. But the wonderful nerds at MIT might have done it with their new non-stick LiquiGlide bottle.
Here's something that might just blow your mind: ketchup—the national condiment of 1896, according to the New York Tribune—wasn't always tomato based. In fact, if it had remained in its early form, we might be spreading fish paste on our burgers (gulp) instead of the tangy tomato-y goodness we presently rely on.
What is technology, really? An amusement? A shield from nature's labors? Industry? None of these—technology is meant to transcend the human. And when we behold this font of tomato, dipping fries into a ketchup continuum, we become gods.
"In contrast with simple liquids such as water, milk, honey, which easily flow as a continuous jet when poured from a vessel, pasty materials such as mayonnaise, mustard, ketchup, puree, etc., fall by fits and starts in a wide range of flow rates."
While I was punching in my credit card details on Facebook for a bottle of Heinz ketchup with balsamic vinegar (I'm a sucker for anything limited edition...and ketchup), it occurred to me just how strange it was to be buying anything—let alone a condiment!—on Facebook. But that's the world we live in now.
Good news! No, great news! The Heinz Dip & Squeeze, a new single-serving ketchup package that promises to save us from the long national nightmare that has been the existing foil squeeze packet, is now rolling out to Chick-Fil-As nationwide. Ketchup! Liberated!
Whirling muscle arms? Check. High-powered squirting mechanism? Check. Pinpoint accuracy? Irrelevant. If you're going to invite the Automato into your home, you need to let it do what it does best: dispense ketchup in the most badass way possible.
In today's Remainders: ideas! Ideas of all sorts, ranging from the very good—a ketchup package that allows for dipping—to the very bad—cutting a power cord with scissors—and including no less than two ideas somewhere in between!
There's something terribly wrong and at the same time impossibly charming about these Ketchup Charlie and Mustard Marvin spread heads. They are even better on video: