"People tell us, 'I love my trash can,'" says Simplehuman founder Frank Yang in a USA Today piece by Matt Krantz (8/9/10). Frank's cans get that kind of response because Simplehuman trash cans "are crafted from stainless steel and have pedal mechanisms that gradually open and close the lids." For this kind of love, some folks are willing to spend between $100 and $200 for a trash can. Simplehuman also makes "sleek and functional automatic soap dispensers, dish-drying racks and shower caddies."

To keep his high-end edge, Frank created "a separate team of engineers who specialize in broad functions, such as hinges and pumps" that pushes Simplehuman "to come up with new designs a product engineer might say are impossible." Such was the case when Frank said he "wanted a trash can that could sit flush against a wall and have no external hinge attached to the lid." The product engineers said it couldn't be done, but the design engineers "found a way to put the hinge inside the can." (link)

Durability is even more important, says Frank, who insists that function always trumps form. Each Simplehuman trash can is tested by "robots that pound on the foot pedal of trash cans over and over." The cans come with a ten-year warranty. Frank established his fancy brand identity during the housing boom, when people were thinking in terms of $200 trash cans. Now that times are tough, he's introduced cheaper plastic versions that also claim durability (link). "My products will always be a step above," says Frank.

The latest "it" handbag from designer Stuart Vevers is "a leather version of an ordinary brown paper grocery bag for about $1,045," report Ray A. Smith and Christina Passariello in the Wall Street Journal (8/7/10). Not only that, but Stuart is "making a point of using the same bag shapes season after season -- the opposite of 'it' bags' short fashion cycle." This is a big departure for Stuart, who had been "known for creating showy studded and tasseled 'it' handbags," in the years just prior to the economic collapse.

"It's kind of taking the bag back to its purest functionality," says Stuart, who designed the bag, known as Papelle (image), for Loewe, a 164-year-old "Spanish leather-goods brand owned by LVMH Moet Hennessy Louis Vuitton. Handbag sales are down in the US, falling 3.3 percent, to $6.97 billion last year, and luxury labels are scrambling to tone down their images. However, Stuart says the transition to his grocery-bag design wasn't without its challenges.

"Luxury was becoming a word that was so overused," he says. "I think there was some confusion as I was explaining that it was time to move on." However, Loewe CEO Lisa Montague says she "strongly believes in Stuart's ability and his sensitivity to understand the evolution of the market." Retailer Linda Fargo of Bergdorf Goodman thinks Stuart is on the right track, too. "The time is right for this new kind of classicism," she says. And Stuart is not looking back, saying, "I don't think I could ever design the way I did then now."

Good Humor's Toasted Almond Bar is "a significantly sophisticated taste experience," writes Ralph Gardner Jr. in the Wall Street Journal (8/4/10). "It doesn't just taste great, it makes you feel privileged," he explains. "Your taste buds congratulate you on your education, whisper into your ear that you possess powers of culinary discernment far beyond those of ordinary pedestrians."

Ralph compares the Toasted Almond experience to that of a classic Bordeaux and says that if it were served for dessert at a fine restaurant, "you'd think it was the most fabulous thing you ever tasted." He denies that his affinity is rooted in childhood nostalgia, in that there were no Good Humor Trucks in his Manhattan neighborhood when he was a boy. And, besides, according to Ralph's informal survey of pushcart vendors, Toasted Almond's taste profile appeals mostly to an over-40 demographic.

In fact, Toasted Almond is not nearly one of Good Humor's best sellers, which Ralph says confirms that "you need taste and class to appreciate its singularity." He admits that almonds are not for everyone (and neither is cilantro) but for those who love almonds, "biting into a Toasted Almond Bar is a mind/body experience," even if the coating is a little soggy. And he denies being a shill for Good Humor, suggesting that Unilever, which owns the brand, has so many other products that it probably "doesn't even realize that Good Humor is under its umbrella."

Luxottica is banking on a new kind of eyeglass shopping experience to pull itself out of tough times, reports Stephanie Clifford in the New York Times (7/21/10). "If the internet was perfect for everybody, obviously no one would shop at retail stores," says Chris Beers of Luxottica, which is "a $6.6 billion eyewear company with retail outlets like Sunglass Hut and LensCrafters." He adds: "The reality is, you need to create a connection, create a personal experience, and that's what we've done."

What Luxottica has done is create a store format it calls The Eye Hub, a 16,000 square-foot space that's "laid out in the shape of an eyeball," with the most expensive brands in the "iris." Frames are displayed somewhat like they might be on a web page. "Some parts of the store are men's and ladies', some are just fashion, some are by look, some are by face shape," says Chris. The store is also laced with various gadgets, including a wind machine and treadmill, to help shoppers make sure the glasses match their lifestyles.

A total of 41 touch-screens meanwhile "function as both mirrors and cameras. Customers can look at themselves in the screens ... snap images," and post the pictures "on Facebook or other sites to solicit friends' opinions before making a purchase." Luxottica also "hopes to use the stores as a sort of live research and development lab -- copying successful elements to use in its existing retail outlets in the coming months." The first Eye Hub is now open in Australia, with "plans to build 10 to 15 more, including in the United States, China and Britain over the next three years."

Having built an empire on renting beat-up cars at bargain prices, Rent-A-Wreck is now trying to polish its image, reports Charlie Szold in USA Today (7/21/10). Rent-A-Wreck actually has done well through the economic downturn, but the trick is going to be keeping its customers as conditions improve. Part of its strategy involves urging its franchisees to buy better, and flashier, used cars. A Rent-A-Wreck in Baltimore now offers late-model Hummers, Lincolns and Mercedes, for instance.

This both attracts customer and saves on repair costs -- not to mention reducing the risk that the car will break down and disappoint the customer. In another big change, Rent-A-Wreck now enables its customers to book rentals online, which forces "franchisees to reserve cars for people sight unseen for the first time." Some franchisees weren't thrilled with this idea. "Our business has always been about the phone book," says Larry Kirmsee, a franchisee since 1979. "If you were at the front page of the phone book, you were getting most of the calls."

Larry and other franchisees came around "once they saw reservations and cash start flowing." Rent-A-Wreck, which was purchased by the Fitzgerald Auto Mall in 2006, is also now working with travel search sites like Kayak. Of course, for customers, it's still all about the experience: "My biggest thing is how I'm being treated," says Rob Jones, who recently rented a Mercedes-Benz SLK 280 two-seater, paying $414 for two days. One thing that won't change is the Rent-A-Wreck brand name, partly because it has pretty good name recognition, but mostly just because owner Jack Fitzgerald loves it.

Originally it was to have 66 suites and 2,000 club seats, but when the Red Bull Arena opens on Saturday it will have just 30 suites and 750 posh seats, reports Ken Belson in the New York Times (3/17/10). "We've reversed the trend," says Erik Stover, managing director of the Red Bulls. "We've taken a lot of premium out of the stadium. We have a different philosophy." The new arena also has just 25,000 seats, "one-third as many as Giants Stadium," where the Red Bulls previously played, but the lack of luxury means about 40 percent more $25 seats (on average) for regular fans.

The arena's design kept fans in mind in other ways, too. Its roof "wraps around the entire stadium and covers all the seats, while leaving the field exposed to the elements ... The 60 feet of roof that covers the lower bowl is translucent to allow in sunlight. The rest of the roof is metal, so the seats in the upper bowl feel darker and cooler. Of course, fans may welcome the shade on hot days ... While the lower bowl is made of pre-cast concrete, the team chose metal for the upper bowl so fans could create more noise when they stamped their feet."

The scoreboards at the "end zones are relatively small. The four-foot-high screen that wraps around the middle of the stadium is more visible, though undoubtedly it will include a lot of advertising." There's not "a lot of garish signage," although Red Bull, the team's owner, is "not shy about pumping its brand: vending machines that sell Red Bull will be placed throughout the stadium." Still, the overall effect is "cozy," with fewer seats meaning that "fans will be closer to the action ... the first rows are just seven yards from the sidelines." It just might be "a place that soccer fans can finally call their own."

"Napa's winemakers are in the throes of a classic market disruption," reports Katrina Heron in the New York Times (2/17/10). Last year, according to Nielsen, "sales of wines priced $25 and above dropped 30 percent nationwide." Ivo Jeramaz, a vice president at Grgich Hills Estate, confirms that sales at his winery are down by about a third. The situation is so dire that at least one vineyard has taken to selling surplus grapes at a roadside stand, and others talk about just "skipping a vintage, which would amount to wiping a year off the calendar."

Ivo's boss, 87-year-old Mike Grgich, is so nervous that he's abandoned his lifelong distrust of technology. "Get me Facebook and Twitter!" he recently commanded his staff, perhaps hoping to bottle his old wine in new media. Vintners increasingly are embracing a strategy known as "retail room," a combination of "the winery tasting room, the now-ubiquitous wine club, and, most of all, nascent e-commerce."

Stuart and Charles Smith, of Smith-Madrone Vineyards, have been on this track for some time, tending "to their customer list with the same care they lavish on their wines." Stuart says his winery "would be in very tough shape if it wasn't for our on-site and internet sales." Dario Sattui of V. Sattui meanwhile has built its wine club into "40,000 active members" and "35 percent of his business is done via mail order or on the internet, with the balance handled on-site." But even Dario admits, "Making wine -- that's the easy part. It's selling it that's hard."

Pierre Gilissen grew up in Belgium, makes chocolates in Connecticut, and won't ship his goodies anywhere, reports Jan Ellen Spiegel in the New York Times (2/14/10). Pierre's chocolates, available only at Belgique Patisserie & Chocolatier in Kent, Connecticut, sell for $65 a pound. Belgique produces just 18,000 pounds of chocolates a year. For this, customers can expect perfection: "I'm not going to do it if I can't do it right," says Pierre. "People think you just buy a block of chocolate; you melt it; you dip the strawberry in it. Not quite, it's a little bit tricky."

He demonstrates this while making chocolate shells, rejecting and remelting a batch that he deems too thick. He won't ship because "his molded, three-step chocolates are traditional Belgian pralines filled with classic gianduja, a hazelnut ganache, and other mainly chocolate mixtures that must be refrigerated because of the large amount of cream they contain." His artisanal enterprise is just one of at least nine chocolatiers that have popped up in Connecticut over the past dozen years.

Others include Knipschildt Chocolatier of Norwalk, which offers both single-estate and single-country chocolates. Knipschildt also mixes "chocolates with spices, herbs and other savory flavorings, especially chiles and sea salts." Interest in locally produced chocolates has grown with chocolate's "emergence as something just short of health food." Despite its calories and fat, high-cocoa percentage chocolate "contains flavonoids that appear to have several health benefits." Sales of white chocolate, meanwhile, have plummeted.

You can get any kind of nuts you want in New York City, but if you want them warm and freshly roasted, there's about only one shop left that still does that, reports Diane Cardwell in the New York Times (2/4/10). That would be SP's Nuts and Candy, where a "classic stainless-steel roaster spins in the window, churning out seven-pound batches of hot almonds, cashews and pistachios, up to 10 times a day." Michael Yeo, the store's owner, bought the store in 1996, and enjoys a devoted following. "My customers know that I roast here so I cannot stop," he says, "If I do -- big trouble."

A Korean immigrant who never developed a taste for nuts himself, Michael just stumbled into the business, finding it for sale in a newspaper ad. "Literally I didn't have any idea there were this many different kinds of nuts, this many kinds of candy," he says. But the previous owner taught him what he needed to know, and he's now "keeping alive a New York tradition that has all but vanished over the past several decades ... Of the 38 Manhattan retail food operations licensed with the word 'nut' in the company name, only seven bear any resemblance to the nut sellers of yore, and none of them roast."

Jerry Cohen, who runs Economy Candy on the Lower East Side, still sells nuts, but gave up roasting. "It just became too much, with the oils and the smells and the Fire Department coming to inspect each week," says Jerry. "You need this permit, that permit -- they don't let you live." Rocco Damato of Bazzini, a nut importer and wholesaler, meanwhile says a combination of fancy imported nuts, high rents, and customer migration to the suburbs created "the catastrophe you have now." It's a catastrophe that William Black saw coming "in the early 1930s, when he converted 18 Chock full o' Nuts stores into coffee shops." This was, of course, during the Great Depression, when it seemed like fresh roasted nuts were "too much of a frivolous luxury."

If efforts to cross-breed oysters are successful, it could "turn a delicacy for the wealthy into the food of the masses," reports the Economist (1/30/10). Dennis Hedgecock of the University of Southern California has been working on this for several years now. He and his colleagues discovered that crossing "a tiny inbred strain called 'oyster 6' ... with a the similarly puny 'oyster 7,' the result is a large and fast-growing oyster -- 'oyster 6x7' -- which is easy to open and produces tens of millions of eggs."

The only problem is that you can't then breed the 6x7 oyster with itself because "the resulting offspring are puny again." That wouldn't be a problem if it were possible to produce large quantities of the 6x7 oyster, but it isn't. So Dr. Hedgecock and his team have taken "some other puny inbreds and created a second hybrid line, oyster 8x9. This variant doesn't breed well with itself either, but the magic happens when the 6x7 makes whoopie with the 8x9.

When that happens, the result is the "super-duper 6x7x8x9 crossbreed," which is large, flavorful and can be produced in "large quantities." Next year, these hybrid oyster SUVs will be "grown on a commercial scale." If that works, "oyster farming could follow the same path as salmon farming." Unlike salmon farming, however, oysters "are filter feeders that clean up the water column, making oyster farms healthy parts of the ocean," perhaps pleasing "consumers and environmentalists alike."