June in December

Ok, so this is the last post I do on food for a while, but this is mainly so that I remember the name of a little delicacy that I ate yesterday afternoon. Dolma, or dolmades, are a small snack food that are wrapped in a grape leaf. They can contain meat, or pretty much anything, but the ones that I have always had mostly consisted of rice inside. Usually I'm at Uni on a Tuesday, but yesterday I was able to drop into town because we only had tutorials instead of lectures. The main reason was to see my girlfriend for lunch, but I ended up with the extra bonus of seeing these lovely grape leaf parcels for sale on a stall at the farmer's market.

I've had dolmades twice before, the last time was when I was helping a friend do some building, and his wife came back from the recently opened Deli with many small tubs of fine food - one of which contained a couple of dolmades. My first time was at Glastonbury 2005, and my god they tasted like the best thing I had ever eaten. It had been so hot on the Thursday, this was before the torrential downpour on Friday, and I remember we were all trying not too move too much in order to reduce sweating. Along came a lovely old fella who had a basket full of goodies. On closer inspection we saw these little green things, and the dude recommended them, he said we would find them very refreshing. I think he gave us one for free so we could taste it, and upon doing so I think we all bought two or three each. He wasn't wrong! They are coated in olive oil, and contained rice, pine nuts and other herbs (nothing illegal I don't think), and were an instant refreshment in the stagnant summer heat. We never saw him again, but if so I would have definitely bought some more.

So I was very happy to find out, after 18 months, what they were actually called. Actually, after I bought a tub I had only walked 400 yards before forgetting what they were called again - thank the Gods for Google! It was a lovely moment finding these at the farmer's market, on a stall full of what looked like incredibly tasty types of Mediterranean food. They all looked good, but it was the dolmades that I wanted. It made me realise just how excellent farmer's markets can be. They give an opportunity for local food producers to showcase and sell their food, on a scale and marketability that they can't always afford. What I liked about this stand though, was that it was taking locally sourced food, but creating food that is culturally different to our own. I love trying as many varied types of food as I can, and I was pleased to able to revisit that hot afternoon in Pilton in a single bit of a dolmade.

If you fancy trying them yourself and can't find anywhere that sells them, here's a tasty recipe. Making dolmades

Hap e's

I'm sure in the past I've drank many bottles, can and pints of Heineken, but I've never paid much attention to the label itself. I suppose living in a consumer world we are all subject to the power of marketing, to even the smallest degree. The attention to detail that goes into creating a brand, or a logo is phenomenal, and not surprising considering the profits that can be at stake. Much of modern day brand power is about convincing the consumer that they will be better off with their particular product.

This does not just extend to physical appearance, but also the well being of the consumer. Yogurts that have 'good' bacteria to help digestion, or cereals that will make you feel more awake in the morning. It even extends back to the days of Guinness adverts in the 30s and 40s proclaiming "Guinness For Strength" and other iconic images of that advertising era.

I had never seen anything that had struck me like the Guinness adverts since, but the other day whilst making a cup of tea (fair trade of course, to calm my ethical conscience) I read the back of an empty Heineken bottler in our kitchen.

"Why do the e's in our logo appear to smiling? It's because only pure water, hops and malted barley go into our beer. We simply believe natural tastes better."

Sure enough, the e's are smiling at me! I had to laugh, because the instant connection I made in my head was to the drug ecstasy, surely not something Heineken would not want to be affiliated with.

After some research I found that this marketing ploy was first implemented by Alfred Heineken in 1951, after he had spent two years working in the sales department for Heineken in America. He learnt the importance of advertising, and on his return to Amsterdam he set out making some the most influential changes to the brand of Heineken that had ever been seen. He turned the brand colour to green, and created the combination of the red star, banner and a hop vine. But most importantly to me, he tilted the e's in the name Heineken backwards slightly to give them the appearance of smiling. He lived by the motto "I don't sell beer, I sell warmth."

Before finding this out I would have assumed that this marketing ploy had occurred recently, not over fifty years ago and its a testament to the vision of the man that he was able to understand the need for creative advertising. Living in a world now saturated by consumable products, the need for ever productive advertising is driving companies to make greater and greater claims in their attempts to convince the consumer of the superiority of their brand. Alfred Heineken was one step ahead during his time, but he spelt out an accurate prophesy for the modern age when he said:

"In the end life is all about advertising."