food/agriculture

In honor of Prune Breakfast Month, we’re re-running this post on the prune.

What’s a prune?

Answer One, the social construction: Prunes are dried fruit you serve to old people who need help with their bowel movements (though, hilariously, it wasn’t always that way).  This is epitomized by the Sunsweet slogan, “The Natural Way to Go” and illustrated in the following eclectic combination of cultural items:

Not exactly an appetizing advertising campaign, eh?  (Though my grandpa, and all three uncles, would totally wear that hat.)

Answer Two, the purely descriptive answer: Prunes are dried plums. Which, of course, they are.  Lovely, gorgeous, beautiful plums:

Mariani, not stupid, recently changed the name of their product from “prunes” to “dried plums,” instantly transforming their product from one for the constipated elderly to one for connoisseurs of exotic dried fruits.

From prunes:

To dried plums:

Words matter, is all.

(Images borrowed from here, here, here, here, here, and here.)

Lisa Wade, PhD is an Associate Professor at Tulane University. She is the author of American Hookup, a book about college sexual culture; a textbook about gender; and a forthcoming introductory text: Terrible Magnificent Sociology. You can follow her on Twitter and Instagram.

Way back in 2008 we posted about the conflation of food with women’s bodies — that is, presenting women’s bodies as food, and presenting food items as sexualized women, an issue covered in depth by Carol Adams. Two readers sent in additional examples. Sarah noticed this ad for canned tuna fillets, which have apparently sprouted heels-wearing legs:

And Whitney R. pointed out that Ludacris’s 2003 album, Chicken-n-Beer, presents a woman’s disembodied leg as the equivalent of fried chicken, ready to be consumed:

For many more examples — including a bikini-clad pin-up turkey — see our original post.

For the last week of December, we’re re-posting some of our favorite posts from 2011.

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In her article “Japanese Mothers and Obentos: The Lunch-Box as Ideological State Apparatus,” Anne Allison discussed the meaning of obentos. The Japanese educational system is highly centralized, with the national Ministry of Education determining the curriculum and approving textbooks. Nursery school, though overseen by the Ministry, is generally private and isn’t compulsory, though attendance is high. According to Allison, it functions much like kindergarten in the U.S., focusing less on content than on how to be a student. Of particular importance are the ability to transition from home life to the public sphere of a bureaucratic state institution and socialization into norms of group life, including cooperation and emphasis on the collective rather than the individual.

The obento was seen as an important element of this process. It was a token of home, and more specifically, of mom. The willingness to make elaborate, creative obentos was used as a measure of a woman’s commitment to the mothering role. The lunches, as you can imagine from the photos, could be very time- and labor-intensive to make. During her time in Japan, Allison says she and the mothers she talked to spent 20-45 minutes each morning on a single obento, in addition to the time spent planning and shopping for ingredients. Tips for making obentos were a frequent topic of conversation among moms, and whole magazines were devoted to the topic. Stores sell a range of obento items, including containers, decorations, molds and stamps to cut foods into various shapes, and, increasingly, pre-made food:

Nursery schools carefully oversaw lunch. The entire obento must be eaten, and everyone had to wait until every child had finished — an important lesson in the importance of the group over the individual. Thus, part of the mother’s job was to make the food appealing and easy to consume, in an effort to encourage her child to eat and avoid the embarrassment of holding up the rest of the class from after-lunch recess. Making food brightly-colored, in various shapes, and in small portions helped with this process. If a child failed to eat the entire lunch, or ate slowly, both the child and mother were held accountable. More than just a lunch, then, Allison argues that obentos served as a form of socialization into ideas of what it meant to be Japanese, particularly the emphasis on the collective and the importance of meeting expectations. Indeed, her son’s teacher viewed him as successfully assimilating to Japan not when he learned the language or made friends, but when he began routinely finishing his obento.

Talking to Japanese mothers — and making obentos for her own young son — Allison found that designing obentos was often viewed as a creative outlet, a way to express themselves and their love for their child. The small group she spoke with generally described it as a fulfilling part of motherhood. But the stakes were also high, since making a sub-par or merely utilitarian obento could stigmatize them as bad mothers. The quality of a mother’s obento became a symbol of the quality of her mothering and her commitment to her child’s educational success.

Of course, this served to institutionalize a form of intensive mothering that is difficult to balance with work life or outside interests. The women she spoke to generally could not hold even part-time jobs and fulfill the expectations placed upon them; those who did often tried to keep it secret to avoid negative judgment from their child’s teacher. In fact, a 2007 Japan Today article said that 70% of Japanese women leave the paid labor force when they have a child.

Allison’s article was published in 1991. I’d love to hear from readers with more recent experiences with expectations surrounding obentos in Japan.

UPDATE: As I had hoped, some of our readers have some great insights about obentos, including questioning whether the really elaborate obentos are most common among wealthier families while most make do with less intricate versions that don’t require as much commitment to intensive mothering. Be sure and check out the comments!

[Full cite: Anne Allison. 1991. “Japanese Mothers and Obentos: The Lunch-Box as Ideological State Apparatus.” Anthropological Quarterly 64(4): 195-208.]

Gwen Sharp is an associate professor of sociology at Nevada State College. You can follow her on Twitter at @gwensharpnv.

For the last week of December, we’re re-posting some of our favorite posts from 2011. Originally cross-posted at Scientopia.

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I came across this fascinating poster advertising tea at The Coffee Bean in Irvine, CA.  The ad features tea leaves balled up into small tea “pearls” and spilled into a person’s palm (text and analysis below):

Text:

Three minutes to fragrant perfection.

It takes a full day to hand-roll 17 ounces of our Jasmine Dragon Pearl Green Tea.  But in just three minutes you can watch these aromatic pearls unfurl gracefully into one of the world’s most soothing and delicious teas.

This ad suggests that others’ toil should enhance one’s experience of pleasure.  The fact that it takes a significant amount of human labor to “hand-roll” tea leaves into balls — an action that is in no way asserted to change the taste of the tea — is supposed to make the tea more appealing and not less.  We are supposed to enjoy not just the visual, but the fact that others worked hard to produce it for us.  A whole day of their labor for just three minutes of curly goodness.

This is a rather stunning value pervading U.S. culture.  Luxury may be defined not only as pleasure, or as the consumption of the scarce, but as the “unfurling” of others’ hard work.  What could be more luxurious than the casual-and-fleeting enjoyment of the hard-and-long labor of others?

Lisa Wade, PhD is an Associate Professor at Tulane University. She is the author of American Hookup, a book about college sexual culture; a textbook about gender; and a forthcoming introductory text: Terrible Magnificent Sociology. You can follow her on Twitter and Instagram.

It’s been way too long since we’ve talked about one of my favorite foods-lost-to-history: vegetable flavored Jell-O.  I added some more examples to the end.  They’re truly awe-some.

Another great example of how tastes are shaped by history: JELL-O in the flavor of celery, seasoned tomato, mixed vegetable, and italian:

A box of various flavors:

What do you do with it? Well, fill it with things like chopped celery, olives with pimento, and squares of… something:

Or, um, tuna…

Don’t forget the hard-boiled eggs:

See also our post on aspic, meat-flavored gelatin foods.  And, for fun, here’s a history of JELL-O that includes a brief description of how you would have to make it if you had to make it from scratch, which will leave you wondering how we ever bothered to invent and make gelatin to begin with.

(Ads found at here, here, here, here, and here.)

Lisa Wade, PhD is an Associate Professor at Tulane University. She is the author of American Hookup, a book about college sexual culture; a textbook about gender; and a forthcoming introductory text: Terrible Magnificent Sociology. You can follow her on Twitter and Instagram.

Christie W. sent in an idea that inspired me to revive our pointlessly gendered products post.  It’s  a fun one.  I’ve added Christie’s submission — a super-pink for-her version of a continuous positive airway pressure machine for people with sleep apnea.

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At this point, the gendering of things like phones doesn’t surprise me, such as this set, sent in by Ben C.:

But really…pink ear plugs?

We seriously need our own earplugs that are “silky soft”? Starchy G., who sent them in, says:

I’ve been told that these things have the extra-feminine side effect of dying one’s earwax pink.

Lovely.

Feminist Philosophers found this delightfully marketed pair of earplugs for, um, I’m gonna guess working class men:

Gendered tape, also from Feminist Philosophers:

Lee D.-T. found these sandwich bags for sale at a Safeway store in Melbourne, Australia. Sandwich bags, people!

Original Will sent in this image of pink computer cables, found at boing boing:

NEW! (Mar. ’10): Marjolaine N. found pink and blue chocolate Easter bunnies:

Michelle at The Red Pill Survival Guide took this photograph of gendered lollipops.  But not just any lollies: “Girls Enchanted” and “Boys Adventure” mixes.  Sigh:

Em wanted to download Style XP to customize Windows XP, but had to decide between men’s and ladies’ versions:

Em says,

The Man theme “gem” and the Lady theme “gucci” look pretty much the same. Still I’m glad it’s called “gucci” so I know it’s for me. Me and my lady friends are going to giggle about it then go online shoe shopping together. I just hope they’ve added extra-easy installation instructions to that version.

Christie W. sent in a pink version of a continuous positive airway pressure machine, and related items, for people, er women, with sleep apnea:

Over a dozen more ridiculous examples, after the jump.

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Time Magazine (2009) reports that McDonald’s has approximately 32,000 restaurants in 118 countries. Of those, only about 45% were in the United States. The key to success of the American restaurant chain in other countries is to adapt its business to the local culture.

For example, today McDonald’s operates approximately 1,000 restaurants in China.  In the book McDonald’s: Behind The Arches, Yunxiang Yun argues that it has been successful in Beijing because it has become a fun place to hang out. While it seems foreign to many Westerners, who think of McDonald’s as a place to buy cheap food quickly, many Chinese people eat there because of the atmosphere and service. More, the food isn’t associated with obesity, as it is in the U.S.

This perception of McDonald’s has made it a sought out location for weddings. Er, McWeddings.

A McDonald’s nuptial package in Hong Kong costs about HK$10,000 (US$1,300).   According to the New York Times, a McWedding…

…includes food and drinks for 50 people… a “cake” made of stacked apple pies, gifts for the guests and invitation cards, each with a wedding photo of the couple.

The ability to reinvent itself is the key to the Golden Arches’ success in China.  It also suggests that the associations Americans have with the chain aren’t inevitable, but specific to cultural context.  Projected to double the number of stores by 2013, it will be interesting to see what other adjustments McDonald’s makes down the road.

 Sangyoub Park is an assistant professor of sociology at Washburn University, where he teaches Social Demography, Generations in the U.S. and Sociology of East Asia. His research interests include social capital, demographic trends, and post-Generation Y.

Back in February I posted about this commercial for Dr. Pepper 10, which was then being introduced to the market:

Dr. Pepper is market-testing a new product, Dr. Pepper 10, which is a 10-calorie (per 12 ounces) soda aimed at men aged 25-34. The problem the company faces is how to market a diet product to men, given the association of dieting with femininity. Dr. Pepper has apparently decided to face this challenge head on and make it very, very clear who this product is and isn’t meant for. This commercial, sent to us by Sully R., uses over-the-top tropes from action movies to prove the soda’s macho cred, and practically yells that it isn’t for women:

Wait, did I say “practically”? I meant literally yells that it’s not for women. Just in case you didn’t get it.

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Now, Dr. Pepper is rolling out the product for real. Dave E., Dave W., David B., Rob W., Christopher D., Kathy W., Andrew D., and Emma H. all let us know that the full-scale ad campaign is out, and they are going all-out with the “no women” theme. Here’s the image from the Dr. Pepper 10 Facebook page:

There’s an app on the Facebook page which takes you to lists of requirements for being sufficiently manly; I didn’t go to it, as it required you to allow Dr. Pepper to access all your Facebook info and send you emails, but according to abc News, it includes tidbits like “Thou Shalt Not Pucker Up. Kissy faces are never manly” and “Thou Shalt Not Make a ‘Man-Gagement’ Album. That is all.”

It’s another example of over-the-top ridiculous masculinity presented with a wink and a nod that is supposed to reassure us all that we’re in on the joke, which somehow makes it less absurd that if you want one group of human adults to drink your product, you feel the need to scream from the rooftops that you’re doing your best to prevent another group of human adults from drinking it, so they won’t get symbolic cooties.

UPDATE: Dr. Pepper’s brand index fell among both men and women (but especially women) in the weeks after this campaign was lost.