Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Food&Art

We are no doubt a visually hungry culture. We often hunger for aesthetically pleasing meals just as much as the meals themselves. The look of a meal not only denotes certain qualities about the individual eating it, but also about the chef's philosophy, the social climate and ideologies of the place it is served.

Take these two pictures for instance:

Your typical Montreal poutine
http://www.flickr.com/photos/dennis/3418100935/

VS

An appetizer off the menu at Noma (rated the World's Best Restaurant in 2010)


Without even seeing the rest of the scene, we begin to construct meaning from these two images. Although the first image might look more appetizing based on our culture (associating carbohydrates, cheese and grease with satisfying taste, comfort and indulgence) we can agree that it is not a very prestigious or dignified meal. When imagining who would be sitting down to enjoy these two dishes, we might think of an intoxicated Paris Hilton for the first, compared to a royal Queen Elizabeth for the second. Thus, as with any commodity, meal choices signify of one's social status in society; another accessory and visual cue which denotes one's personality and lifestyle. 

Taking an Adorno and Horkheimer approach, we could say that the image of the poutine represents mass-produced culture, whereas the salad represents high art in the culinary world; the first produced by a part-time fryer boy and the second produced inside a Michelin star kitchen by a world class chef. Objections, like those to Adorno and Horkheimer's theories, would be that poutine is so popular and induces immediate salivation because it tastes good. Thus, why does it matter who makes it or how much time and quality has gone into making it? This ongoing debate is frustrating to say the least; however, as a commodity, it is not a debate that food cannot escape. 

There is a lot of pretension and snobbery in the culinary world and there will continue be individuals who wave their Puriforca sterling silver forks in disgust to anything that has come within an inch of a deep fryer. Conversely, there will be those who choose to start each morning with a wrapped up gift of processed ham, cheese and eggs squished between the slices of an English muffin. 

It is on the topic of food and art that made me think of Dan Beckemeyer. Although his illustrations may not appeal to the collectors of "high art," to me, he is an Andy Warhol visionary. His images reflect common culture; linking together associated food and beverages, to spur smiles upon the faces of those who have enjoyed these gluttonous combinations. 



A delicious mashup of food, art and text: commodities consumed daily in a consumer culture. 


- Danielle




Citation:
Beckemeyer, Dan. "Ampersand Food Groups" 26 Sept 2010. Behance LLC. 17 Nov 2010. <http://www.behance.net/gallery/Ampersand-Food-Groups--Typography-Illustrations/597770>.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Chocolate regains its roots with Askinosie

In light of Halloween and the five miniature chocolate wrappers peaking out from my purse, I thought I'd talk about something many North Americans will relate to: our addiction to chocolate.

Since its origin, chocolate has been used as a form of reward. In Mesoamercia, before the Spanish colonization in the 15th and 16th centuries, chocolate was consumed at wedding ceremonies, presented to visiting dignitaries, and used to honour soldiers for heroic service (Norton 15). Today, fathers reward their sons with Mars bars for games well-played, a box of Lindors arrives with a bottle of wine to household gatherings, and each holiday has its own chocolate mascot in the form of eggs, caramel-filled hearts or crackable oranges. Whereas chocolate still represents pleasure and reward, it has since lost value and the elitest-allure that made it a supreme delicacy in ancient civilizations and colonies. But, this is where companies like Askinosie Chocolates can profit.



When we think of "elitist" food purchases made by North Americans, we often think of places like Whole Foods where the food is fresh, organic, specialized and over-priced. Individuals who shop at places like Whole Foods are exactly the kind of clientele that Askinosie Chocolates advertise to. Askinosie Chocolates targets customers who can justify paying $10 as opposed to $1 for a common product like chocolate. However, in order to justify the extra cost, consumers must be convinced that the product suits their lifestyle and contributes to a satisfying experience. The company does this by creating allure in their packaging and by making sure consumers know they support Fair Trade and buy ingredients from the source (a Starbucks of the chocolate world, if you will).



Askinosie does a beautiful job at recreating the past and linking the history of the cacao bean to their product through clever packaging. By using plain brown mailing paper, Askinosie gives a nod to the past and shows the customer that the chocolate is authentic and flown in from the source. The old typewriter script and faux stamps further allude to history and add rarity. When looking at these bars, it's as if Columbus himself has sent the package of rare treasures from one of his many voyages. The simple browns and blacks contribute to an earthy, elegance separating the company from its mass-produced counterparts like Cadbury and Hershey's. Askinosie is not after the candy-coated crowd; those persuaded by brightly coloured goodies and childhood treats, they are after the big spenders.



In general, Askinosie is an admirable chocolate company, paying more than Fair Trade wage to their employees. The chocolate is made with simple ingredients and follows through on its promise for high quality, according to magazines like CondeNast Traveler. However, it's not surprising to find out that Shawn Askinosie, founder of the brand, was a criminal defence lawyer for nearly 20 years. If the chocolate is as good as the rhetoric at play, I might have to give it a try.

- Danielle

Citation:
Norton, Marcy. "Conquests of Chocolate" OAH Magazine of History. Vol. 18, No. 3, pp. 14-17. The Atlantic World. April 2004 Organization of American Historians. 3 November 2010. http://www.jstor.org/stable/25163677