Factory-farmed fresh

Ever grab that Ontario-grown Gala apple from your fruit bowl, place it under running water and discover that residual water beads form and slip right off the skin? The apple still tastes like an apple should, the crunch still satisfying, but there is some kind of invisible dressing wrapped around the perfect, store-bought ruby. Apparently Clay Butler, well-known political cartoonist, has thought about it too:

The answer: wax. 

What I love about the rhetoric at play in this cartoon is Butler's use of clarity and irony to address issues with food cultivation and politics. In first frame the audience is introduced to the startling image of the "Cropmaster 2000."Butler contrasts the stereotypical image of an apple orchard, rich with budding trees, by way of a desolate landscape being zapped with crops.  The use of exhaust fumes, exaggerated equipment, and a gun as the planter, shows how dehumanizing the current process of growing fresh fruit has become. This theme continues in the next frame when Butler illustrates a faceless character in a sterile, white suit; the dark shadow behind him representing death and danger, as he or she sprays the poisonous chemicals on the crops. In the third frame, the metaphorical assembly line from field to store becomes a physical assembly line where Butler shows the crops being enhanced with artificial colours, sprayed with a stream of more toxicity and polished off with a waxy gloss. Finally, Butler brings the audience back into the comforting reality of the typical grocery store, where the food is "FARM FRESH!"

As consumers, we rarely see behind the scenes when it comes where our food comes from and how it's produced. Although Butler's illustration is an exaggeration, he brings up relevant issues about fair representation, labelling practices and the lack of visibility in today's food production. Through simplistic irony, Butler encourages his audience to question clever grocery store gimmicks, which act to appeal to traditional and misguided stereotypes about today's farming industry.

Is ignorance bliss?

- Danielle

Citation:
Butler, Clay. "Good Ole Farm Fresh Goodness." 1996. Pub. 3 March 2010. Sidewalk Bubblegum: ComicPress. 27 October 2010. http://www.sidewalkbubblegum.com/category/comics-about-industrial-farming-and-food-politics/

Paris Hilton Sells Body and Burgers

When this TV commercial first appeared in 2005, it set a new standard for the age-old argument that, "sex sells," or celebrities, sex and stupidity, anyway. Cover your eyes kids, this is not your typical Happy Meal commercial:



I can picture the marketing team now (most likely a team of men), sitting around a big oval table as the project manager begins, "Okay, fellas, cheeseburgers have gotten a bad rep over the past few years. Unfortunately, Super Size Me, trans fats and calorie labels have produced a more afflicted public, so let's brainstorm. How can we make cheeseburgers a sexy and popular meal choice?"

The problem with this television commercial is that the argument is so absurd that it makes it difficult to respond with a logical or thoughtful response, leaving one literally dumbfounded, which I assume is partly the point. This is a parody that plays off the credibility, or lack there of, in celebrity endorsements and on the idea that sex isn't only limited to selling expensive fragrances, but can also help sell Carl's Jr. Spicy BBQ Burgers.

As an appeal to character or celebrity, Paris Hilton's status as a scandalous socialite, popular with the fast-food-loving youth generation in America and known for her catch phrase, "that's hot," oddly makes sense when it comes to selling Carl's Jr. hamburgers. However, whereas endorsements for Nike running shoes by famous athletes implies one can be a better athlete by wearing Nikes or an advertisement for a  knife set being used by a famous Chef implies that the blades contribute to Michelin Star meals; this ad implies that by eating Carl's Jr. burgers one can be powerful, famous and rich without much talent or hard work. Alternatively, for the target audience (young men who would rather eat hamburgers every day than step foot in a kitchen), this advertisement doesn't just sell Carl's Jr. hamburgers, but the ideal lifestyle. Who wouldn't want a blond bombshell in a bikini, washing their Bentley, offering a stereotypical man's meal?

Despite what people have to say about the thought process that went into making this commercial, the pornographic appeal garnered huge success in terms of audience reach, even making it into the Carl's Jr. Wikipedia entry (click here). Thus, this proves that when an outrageous marketing campaign is launched, the public takes notice.

However, did the commercial actually help sell more hamburgers or just sell us on something we're already addicted to: mindless consumption. Celebrities, monetary excess, gas-guzzling vehicles and fast food, just what we need more of.

- Danielle

Citation:
"paris hilton - burger king commercial" 20 November 2008. YouTube. 19 October 2010. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o0PLjKOOuK8

Toss the Broccoli, Feed them Chef Boyardee

Can't wean your children off the starchy, sweetness of white bread? Have you tried steaming, puréeing, pouring ponds of ranch dressings and rivers of melted Cheez Whizzes, and your kids continue to toss their carrot sticks and broccoli bundles into the planter pots when you aren't looking? Well, it's time to give up on the vegetable garden and fresh produce, apparently a pantry shelf is all you need.  

"Chef Boyardee: Wheat Girl"

Oh look, a mother's daydream.
It'll never be a reality. So serve them Chef Boyardee Whole Grain
Beefaroni, now with whole grain pasta. Just don't tell them.
Obviously Delicious. Secretly Nutritious.

"Chef Boyardee: Carrot Kid"

Behold the mythical veggie-loving kid.
He doesn't exist. That's why there's Chef Boyardee, with a full
serving of vegetables in every bowl. Just don't tell them.
Obviously Delicious. Secretly Nutritious.

"Chef Boyardee: Broccoli Boy"

Until this happens, keep the secret.
Kids may never love veggies this much. But with Chef Boyardee there is a
full serving of vegetables in every bowl. Just don't tell them.
Obviously Delicious. Secretly Nutritious.

So, let's examine the argument:

A) Kids hate the taste of vegetables and whole grains; an obvious problem for health conscious parents.
B) Kids love the taste Chef Boyardee.
C) Chef Boyardee now has "a full serving of vegetables in every bowl."

Conclusion: Why not throw a bowl in the microwave, heat on high for 1 and 1/2 minutes, and serve up an enjoyable meal that will keep your kids both happy and healthy.


Okay, obviously I'm a little bit offended by this argument seeing as I have always loved vegetables (my lunchbox favourite used to be a toasted tomato sandwich, with ripe rubies and a hefty sprig of purple-veined butter lettuce), but I have to admit that these advertisements are extremely clever. The prints themselves are reminiscent of the 1950s and 60s: the posterized element and simplicity of the images acting as appeals to tradition and the reign of the all-mighty housewives and homemakers of the past. I think it's rather suiting and interesting for Chef Boyardee (or DDB Advertising) to make references to the "golden age" of capitalism, showing that their product still represents convenience, mass production and simplicity. However, by showing children with vibrant vegetables, it also shows their awareness and understanding about the concerns people have with eating processed foods. Consumers still love convenience and cutting costs, but they also care about what's in the foods they're eating.

The next trick DDB Advertising introduces is humour and an appeal to emotion. Presumably, most parents have trouble "tricking" their children into eating their veggies (especially with McDonald's down the street and Christie cookies and Lays potato chips crowding the aisles of every grocery store), so it's a ludicrous idea that kids would be hugging and cradling vegetables and whole wheat as if the ingredients were as loveable as their favourite teddy bears or blankies. The quotes add to the argument by making statements about, "the mythical veggie-loving kid," and how, "he doesn't exist." So, if you ever thought that you'd succeed in forcing your kids to like vegetables, think again.

So, we come to the big question: is Chef Boyardee really that good for your kids? I was curious too, so I went to my local grocery store to do a little field research:

The Beefaroni (pictured above) causes me a little less grief than the classic Beef Ravioli, however a few things still concern me: glucose-fructose and/or sugar (aren't there restrictions to using 'and/or' on ingredient labels) and "cheese flavour."

The traditional Beef Ravioli is even more baffling:

Ingredients: Tomatoes (Water, Tomato Puree), Water, Enriched Wheat Flour (Wheat Flour, Malted Barley Flour, Niacin, Iron, Thiamine Mononitrate (Vitamin B1), Riboflavin (Vitamin B2), And Folic Acid), Beef, Crackermeal (Wheat Flour, Niacin, Iron, Thiamine Mononitrate [Vitamin B1], Riboflavin [Vitamin B2], And Folic Acid), Contains Less Than 2% Of Salt, Carrots, High Fructose Corn Syrup, Textured Vegetable Protein (Soy Flour, Soy Protein Concentrate And Caramel Coloring), Modified Corn Starch, Monosodium Glutamate, Onion, Caramel Coloring, Flavorings, Enzyme Modified Cheese (Cheddar Cheese [Pasteurized Milk, Cultures, Salt, Enzymes], And Annatto [Color]), And Soybean Oil. Contains: Milk, Soy, Wheat.

Thank goodness for those "carrots," I was beginning to think Chef Boyardee had confused tomatoes (technically fruits) for vegetables. However when you examine the Nutrition Facts, something doesn't seem to add up. If you feed your kids 1/2 a cup of carrots (considered a full serving of vegetables) they'll be receiving 204% of their daily vitamin A, however Chef Boyardee Ravioli has only 6%. Furthermore, the typical tomato contains 6% of your daily vitamin C, but Chef Boyardee has 0%, even though "tomatoes" is at the top of their ingredient list. It seems as though the most nutrition your kids are going to receive is 38% of their daily sodium.

So, although the "carrot," enriched version of Chef Boyardee has yet to come to a grocery store near me in Ontario, I don't think I'll be holding my breathe. And, perhaps before the cans get shipped north, parents could give their children the benefit of the doubt and not automatically put them on the band wagon with the other vegetable hating kids? Just some food, or perhaps a meal, for thought.




- Danielle

Need some inspiration? 

•  Allrecipes.com - Best Vegetable Recipes for Kids
• Goodmeals.com - Healthy Vegetable Recipes for Kids
• Brighthub.com - 5 Creative Ways to Get Your Kids to Eat Their Vegetables

Citation
Scott, Zachary. Chef Boyardee: Broccoli Boy, Chef Boyardee: Carrot Kid and Chef Boyardee: Wheat Girl. 2010. Advertising Agency: DDB, San Francisco. Ads of the World. Web. 8 Oct 2010. http://adsoftheworld.com/media/print/chef_boyardee_broccoli_boy