By Douglas Hanks III
Special to The Washington Post
Wednesday, June 14, 2000; Page F01 As Rockville sweated through last August, the old gas grill at the Steinbach home collected cobwebs in the back yard. Who wants to deal with all the mosquitoes? Meanwhile, their new George Foreman indoor grill--a gift from their daughter and son-in-law--sat in the box unopened. Who wants to fool with one more kitchen gadget?

Then summer yielded to fall, and boredom gave way to curiosity. Out came the nonstick Foreman grill, in it went a pair of hamburgers. Out they came again in four minutes, and the Steinbachs were hooked, swept up in one of the biggest cookware fads today.

It's an odd little phenomenon, this grill. What is basically a titled sandwich griddle made by Salton has brought in some $230 million in sales, rewritten the book on celebrity endorsements and enchanted millions of otherwise normal people like 58-year-old Sheldon Steinbach who, when asked about his grill, reels off sales pitches like this: "In an age of increasing availability of carryout foods, this presents a quick alternative to the traditional home-cooked meal."

Granted, Steinbach is general counsel for the American Council on Education, so he's used to giving speeches from the hip. But people obviously like the product. More than 10 million grills have been sold since it debuted in 1995, and the company claims a large chunk of the buyers are repeat customers looking for a gift, upgrade or replacement.

What's behind all this? The Foreman grill (real name: George Foreman's Lean Mean Fat Reducing Grilling Machine) has ridden several cultural waves to success. The leanness and fat-reducingness of its label snagged the grill a chunk of the fat-free movement. The lamb chops, hot dogs and steaks of the Foreman infomercials also hit first-tier cable just as all-protein diets were making a comeback as the latest way to lose weight on a full stomach. But analysts and company officials agree the biggest boon to the Foreman phenomenon is the societal force that has shaken nearly every nook and cranny of the food industry: the busy American. As more people describe their schedules as too hectic for cooking, food producers are scrambling to make eating easier, consumers are spending less on groceries than on prepared foods.

"I think the Foreman fits the lifestyle needs of where the demographics are going," said James Goll, an analyst with Paine Webber in New York. "It provides a healthy meal, but more importantly, it offers a quick meal with little cleanup."

The grill itself is unremarkable. Like a waffle iron or sandwich griddle, it cooks from both the lid and the bottom, squeezing the food between two heating surfaces. This speeds cooking time: shrimp takes 90 seconds; a steak is four minutes. The metal is nonstick, so there's no need for oil or spray, and it is designed to wipe off clean with a towel (with mixed results; see sidebar below right). The plates are grooved, giving the food grill marks. Gravity and the weight of the top plate provide the fat-reducing mechanics: The grill is slanted, forcing the drippings to trickle down into a dish; the manufacturer claims it is a healthier method than frying because no pool of fat crackles at the bottom of the pan during cooking.

But meat fixed on the Foreman grill is no leaner than what you can get when you fire up the backyard barbecue, said Tufts University dietitian Jean Baker, who tested the Foreman grill for the school's nutrition newsletter.

"It's a grill," she said. "All grills drain fat."

Consumer Reports put the grill through its paces and ended up knocking the grill and its infomercial. In December the magazine reported cooking identical burgers from 80 percent lean ground beef on the Foreman grill and a regular pan and "found no significant difference in fat." Consumer Reports noted that a Salton infomercial claims Foreman burgers have 4 percent less fat than pan burgers.

Taste, too, can divide the Foreman grill from the real thing. With no flames and no charcoal, meat cooked the Foreman way lacks the crust and smoky flavor of a flame-heated grill.

Rob Dantzler, kitchen manager of The Capital Grille, on Pennsylvania Avenue, tried the Foreman grill once and liked the product enough to recommend it for home cooking. For his restaurant, though, only the Grille will do.

"With the Foreman grills, you don't get that flame-broiled taste," Dantzler explained. "You get enough char off the actual [Foreman] grill plate, but it's just an intermittent charring."

One more caveat, this one from Baker, the Tufts dietitian.

"Foreman grill fans should keep in mind that low-fat grilling doesn't mean you can eat like a heavyweight boxer," Baker wrote in the nutrition newsletter. "A sensible serving of meat is three ounces, regardless of what machine it's cooked on."

Foreman, 51, the two-time heavyweight boxing champ, eats red meat only once a week. Sometimes, though, he'll skip a week to gorge on a two-steak treat.

"I wasn't that optimistic about it," Foreman said in a telephone interview from his home in Kingwood, Tex. When Salton first sent him the grill, he thought it was too small, closed too tightly and was just plain odd.

"They brought this little thing to my house. I said, 'No way. I'm not going to put my name on that. I want a steak, not a pancake.' "

With some modifications, Foreman said, he agreed to match his marketability with the grill. (The name actually came before Foreman. Salton marketing gurus were movie buffs and had named the grill after Burt Reynolds's 1974 prison football movie "The Longest Yard." The convicts' team played as "The Mean Machine.")

The deal with Salton gave Foreman 45 percent of the profits, but no endorsement fee. He would make money only if the grills sold. On his best days, Foreman said, he had hoped to make a million dollars. Last December, Salton agreed to pay Foreman about $138 million for the exclusive and eternal rights to market cookware bearing his name. The landmark deal bars Foreman from endorsing any other kitchen products and ends his profit-sharing deal with Salton, which already had made him between $50 million and $60 million. Salton should turn a profit on the endorsement deal in two years, said Goll, the Paine Webber analyst. The company is planning a line of second-generation Foreman products, including an outdoor grill and a rotisserie cooker. Sales of the original grill are expected to approach $350 million this year, more than a 50 percent increase from 1999's tally.

"It's probably the single largest branded appliance in the history of appliances. The closest thing to it, if you go back, was the introduction of Mr. Coffee," said Peter Schaeffer, an analyst at Donaldson, Lufkin & Jenrette.

"Ironically, it's exceptionally popular among single people and elderly people," he added. "It's a very skewed demographic."

Meghan Emery and Jason Bender are among the skewers. Both are 23 and single. Both work in the same Baltimore accounting office. Both have roommates. Neither is an accomplished chef. As Emery explained, "Last week I tried to make chicken on the stove and I burned it so bad I had to let the pan soak for two days."

Both have the Foreman grill (both gifts from their parents) and use it to cook most meals. "It's pretty hard to [mess] it up," Bender said. "You plug it in, close the lid. There's been times when we left it on overnight and it hasn't burned the place down."

The automatic shut-off feature is probably a good idea, regardless of demographics. But there's no denying the grill appeals to twentyish single guys, a market generally viewed as indifferent or allergic to the kitchen. But turn on cable TV, watch the studio audience hoot every time chef Emeril Lagasse tosses pepper on something and yells "BAM!" and it's no surprise the Foreman demographics are a bit skewed.

"Ten years ago, a 28-year-old attorney would never cook for himself at home," said New York chef Bobby Flay, made famous by his "Hot off the Grill" show on the Food Network. "Now it's okay for him. Because he watches Emeril--it's cool. It's like watching a football game."

Perhaps that's the irony. Thousands of harried professionals watching cooking shows as they wait (a bit impatiently) for their five-minute Foreman chicken breasts to cook so they can hit the gym before the 8 o'clock rush.

"The George Foreman grill just exemplifies where the food industry is going," said Bob Messenger, editor of the Food Trends Newsletter in Chicago. "So that you and I, and our wives and girlfriends--and even our moms--don't have to put in the time to cook.

"I suspect George Foreman is going great guns," he continued, "but it will be history in two years. Something else will evolve."

After all, convenience and quickness are relative concepts. Matt Nehmer, 25, a graduate student at George Washington University, has a Foreman grill. His mom gave it to him. He uses it every once in awhile. He's no big fan.

"I'm more of an instant-gratification kind of guy," Nehmer said. "By the time you get the grill out, cook up your meat, make your side dish, I could be done my bowl of cereal."

Douglas Hanks III is a reporter for The News Journal in New Castle, Del.

© Copyright 2000 The Washington Post Company

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