HOW TO 'BREAK BREAD' IN THESE ATKINS TIMES?

Byline: Joseph Honig Local View

CERTAINLY the Earl of Sandwich would be appalled: Bread, known in some quarters as the staff of life, may be going the way of liverwurst, pigs' knuckles and New England boiled dinners - uncool and trending down. Further, the New World Pasta Co., house of Ronzoni and other noodle brands, just announced it would seek bankruptcy protection while reorganizing.

This after the Krispy Kreme doughnut empire sliced profit forecasts, and the country's largest wholesale bakery said it might not be able to keep lenders fully satisfied.

So there may be little cheer for French loaves, for Parker House rolls. Bad news for peanut-butter-and-jelly magnates, too.

Is a carb crash near? Is bread laying an egg?

Just recently, that mainstay of American cuisine, the hamburger, figured in the anti-carbohydrate crusade. The Burger King chain announced it's started offering beefy Whoppers sans buns. This after a rival chain, Carl's Jr., began serving lettuce-wrapped ground beef.

Our waistlines may benefit, but what about culture, tradition and the pure Americana of a firm grip on one's lunch?

Further, what is a burger without a bun? A small order of Salisbury steak? Chopped beef with garnish? A naked, quarter-pound serving of protein? Surely, etymologists and marketers will come up with something. But where to put all those sesame seeds? In relish? On onion slices? Who knows? The only clear winners are cutlery kingpins.

Chalk it up to the Atkins diet, health-consciousness or style. Though in the absence of something crusty and nourishing, how do you ``break bread'' with friends? The snap of carrots? The slicing of celery? Crude substitutes at best. And while we're on the subject, let's talk aromas. As in hot baguettes versus steaming cabbage. Clearly, no contest. Not even close.

That Earl of Sandwich was on to something. And, if you believe the folklore, this was way back in 1762 when a pastrami on rye was faraway and unimaginable. Never mind a tuna on toast or grilled cheese on wheat. Roast beef on a kaiser? The stuff that dreams were made of.

It was the earl, real name John Montagu, who placed meals in the grasp of humanity. An inveterate gambler - here's that folklore again - Montagu reportedly hated getting up from the card table. Even for meals. So, playing hungry, he asked a servant to arrange a piece of ham between two slices of bread. He gave us both history and lunch. Presumably he continued eating this invention until death - at age 64 - in 1792.

Bread may have been Montagu's dining salvation, though it's unlikely he suffered any harmful effects from carbohydrates. His life span - for the era - was a long one.

What's more, my own father, months past his 95th birthday, consumes a bagel, two slices of corn rye and an onion roll or two each day. Try selling him an uncovered hamburger. You will be left holding your spatula, watching his back.

Surely, millions of Americans have reduced personal tonnage by eschewing bread. The Atkins business - the books, the product tie-ins - is booming. Nevertheless, we are advised that high-cholesterol regimens are problematic. We're also told you can reduce simply - and safely - by burning more calories than you ingest. Simple math.

However, somewhere along the way, bread became the bad guy. The dining room's Black Bart. One can only hope that those of us attached to its lovely taste, its reassuring consistency, will not become outcasts at table. We are, after all, not smokers. Don't strip us of all dignity.