For people who think that takeout containers are degradable enough, thank you -- and have the teriyaki and marinara stains on their car upholstery to show for it -- the advent of bio-degradable and compostable restaurant carry-out packaging might seem one waste-not, want-not step away from ladling soup directly into customers' cupped palms and bidding them safe, spill-free travel.
   Scott McGehee operates Boulevard Bread Co., one of the Little Rock-area eateries implementing a new, all-natural breed of next-generation containering. (Hey, if Midwestern farmers can take corn husks and potato starch and engineer clear plastic tubs suitable for transporting pasta salad, we can fashion a next-generation word from "container" and "ing.")
   On a recent morning, McGehee stepped out of his office and into the gourmet grocery floor space of his Heights location -- 1920 N. Grant Street, (501) 663-5951 -- to dispel the notion that Boulevard's new "Green is the Goal!" sloganeering will be something of a mood-killer for people who want to eat, drink and be merry without having to worry whether the plastics on the passenger seat next to them have a clear social conscience.
   Boulevard will implement the biodegradable new containers with the Jan. 8, 2007, opening of its new downtown Little Rock location as the east anchor of the River Market. Mc-Gehee said sharing the calendar date with Elvis' birthday is pure coincidence; Boulevard rarely fries anything, and, anyway, the King's portion sizes likely would command three or four of the new containers, taking up that much more landfill space. On the up side, the containers only take around 30 days, and in any case less than six months, to degrade.
   And the containers -- previewed at the recent Natural State Expo in the Statehouse Convention Center with the fanfare of the latest iteration of the iPod -- are generally indistinguishable from most modern, petroleum-based clear plastic tubs and compartmentalized plates with snap-on lids. Mc-Gehee pointed out that people fearing the lumpy, pulpy inconsistency of the kind of paper produced by people who make their own stationery will be pleasantly surprised.
   "They don't look any different," he said. "They feel like real plastic. The straws look like straws." (In addition to food holders, Boulevard's plastic forks, spoons and drinking straws are compostable as well. Sorry, no sporks.)
   Of course, sometimes a straw is just a straw, sometimes a straw with the same DNA as a corn husk costs about 15 cents more to make. McGehee said that sandwich prices will undergo a nominal increase around the time you can start ordering a Boulevard chopped salad and later chop up its dish and scatter it around your garden. McGehee said that in addition to buying into the vogueish green mindset, for those so inclined to see things that way, the slight price increases will also reward customers with an altogether more progressive restaurant experience : The River Market location will be managed by Rod Bryan, a guitarist in the band Ho-Hum, former operator of a rare and vintage record store, current gubernatorial candidate and all-around music connoisseur. Bryan's Boulevard outpost will feature a DJ booth.
   To say that Wild Oats Natural Marketplace is already in the business of spinning platters made from all-natural ingredients would be to make a pun as stale as Styrofoam: Nobody calls records "platters" anymore, or spins them. But Boulevard joins the green grocer's gourmet-togo operation in offering a complete line of biodegradable paper and plastic containers.
   In the case of Wild Oats -- 10700 N. Rodney Parham Road, (501) 221-2331 -- that means clear plastic canisters made from corn and soy products. (Specifically, the material is NatureWorks-brand cornbased resin, which has inspired Wild Oats to rechristen its to-go packaging "corntainers." Hey, for the whole green thing to shed its hippie, tree-hugging vibe, it's gonna have to go at least a little bit dorky.)
   Even the ink marking the tubs with the Wild Oats logo is made from soy, a deli worker recently explained, tapping the plum-colored lettering on a tub for emphasis.
   Next, he filled a sleek black compostable plate with a digestible trio of brightly flavored, dill-sprinkled salmon, pungent three-bean salad and a delectable, sesame-infused Asian cabbage slaw. If the plate and its raised, snug-fitting lid weren't long for this world, they didn't let on. They lasted long enough for us to get them home, devour the food within and trash them. (Tossing the plate like a Frisbee into the back yard, while technically something less than littering, also would have felt less than proper.) Beyond that, we honestly prefer not to think about it and, given recent advancements, we don't have to. Spork Report is a monthly take on takeout. E-mail your favorite Styrofoam stop-offs to:
   

kbrazzel@arkansasonline.com

This story was published Friday, November 03, 2006