Italian Food: Grandmothers against Grandmothers

Italian version below

As said in the previous post, Ferrero's attempt to involve grandmothers in the promotion of their products is really interesting. Grandparents have a long tradition in food advertising, as they clearly represent tradition, authenticity and the food of the good old days.

The two novelties of the campaign Bontà a Prova di Nonna (grandmother-proof goodness) are that here the grandmothers play the role of the guardians, and that the campaign adopts the language of the social media. As regards the role played by the grandmothers, this may be considered as an extension of the role of the tastemaker. Tastemakers are those who have the credibility to establish what is good and what is not. This is the role that the elderly have always played in those food cultures where tradition overwhelms novelty. While, for example in the Anglo-Saxon countries, it is the chefs who establish what is good and what is not, in the south-European countries this is up to the elderly. Certainly things have been changing, however these are still the dominant trends in the two food cultures. In fact, in these south European cultures, usually old people are represented in contrast with novelty, a bulwark against industrialization and loss of identity. Ferrero, instead, represent them as a bridge between novelty and tradition, which is a meaningful change. The final message of the campaign seems to be: industrialized food may be traditional.

May this be true? What do Italian grandmothers really think about it? It seems that they disagree from Ferrero. The female pensioners of the Italian association of farmers haven't appreciated the campaign. In a public statement, they say that Ferrero's products are certainly good, but that the snacks prepared by grandmothers in rural countries are totally different. They add that they would like to meet the four grandmothers of the campaign in order to exchange recipes of snacks, jams, bread, biscuits, and of all those foods that they prepare to persuade young people not to go to bars and fast food restaurants. In the end, they say, the industrialised production process cannot be equal to grandmothers' hands.

I hope that Ferrero's grandmothers and ex female farmers will meet, and I would certainly like to be there. Unfortunately, I'm afraid that this meeting will never happen. In fact, it is the second novelty, the language of the social media, that seems to hinder the meeting. On the one hand, we should ask whether the language adopted by the campaign is the real language of the social media. The four grandmothers are actually testimonials, and Ferrero's campaign is a form of advertising. On the other hand, the female ex-farmers are actual female ex-farmers, that is, reality, and consider the four grandmothers of the campaign as other real grandmothers. It is evident that the two groups of grandmothers play on two different fields, are the expressions of two different roles and pursue two different aims. Even if they will meet, they would speak two different languages. In order to organize a real social media debate on the theme “May industrial food be traditional?”, Ferrero should adopt the real language of the social media. It should publicly invite real Italian grandmothers to visit the industrial plant and open its social media to real comments. This would really mean adopting the actual language of the social media and taking into account the roles of the grandmothers as the guardians of tradition.

Italian version

Come scritto nel post precedente, il tentativo della Ferrero di coinvolgere le nonne nella promozione dei loro prodotti è molto interessante. Le nonne (e i nonni) hanno una lunga tradizione nella pubblicità del cibo, perché come anziani rappresentano la tradizione, l'autenticità e il cibo del glorioso passato.

Le due novità della campagna Bontà a Prova di Nonna sono il ruolo di guardiane interpretato dalle nonne e il fatto che la campagna adotta il linguaggio dei social media. Per quanto riguarda il ruolo interpretato dalle nonne, può essere considerato come un'estensione del ruolo di tastemaker. I tastemaker sono coloro che hanno la credibilità di stabilire cosa è buono e cosa no. Si tratta di un ruolo che gli anziani hanno sempre avuto in quelle culture del cibo in cui la tradizione ha la meglio sull'innovazione. Mentre, per esempio nei paesi anglosassoni, sono gli chef che stabiliscono cosa è buono e cosa no a proposito di cibo, nei paesi del sud Europa questo tocca agli anziani, specialmente alle donne. Certo, molte cose stanno cambiando, ma i trend dominanti sono ancora questi. Infatti, in queste culture sud europee, di solito gli anziani sono visti in contrasto con l'innovazione, come un bastione contro l'industrializzazione e la perdita di identità. La Ferrero, invece, rappresenta gli anziani come un ponte tra tradizione e innovazione, davvero una significativa rivoluzione Il messaggio finale della campagna sembra essere: il cibo industriale può essere tradizionale.

Può essere vero? Cosa ne pensano veramente le nonne italiane? Sembra che non siano d'accordo con Ferrero. Le donne pensionate della Confederazione Italiana Agricoltori, infatti, sembra non abbiano apprezzato la campagna. In una dichiarazione ufficiale, hanno infatti dichiarato che i prodotti della Ferrero sono sicuramente buoni, ma che i cibi preparati dalle nonne nei paesi rurali sono tutta un'altra cosa. Inoltre, aggiungono anche che a loro piacerebbe incontrare le nonne della campagna per scambiare con loro ricette di merende, confetture, pane, biscotti e tutti quei cibi che loro preparano per dissuadere i giovani a stare lontani dai bar e soprattutto dai fast food. In fondo, dicono, il cibo industriale non può eguagliare le mani di una nonna.

Spero vivamente che le nonne della Ferrero e le pensionate ex contadine si incontrino, e vorrei veramente essere presente. Purtroppo, ho paura che questo incontro non avverrà mai. Infatti, è la seconda novità, il linguaggio dei social media, che sembra di ostacolo all'incontro. Da una parte dobbiamo chiederci se il linguaggio adottato dalla campagna è veramente il linguaggio dei social media. In realtà, le quattro nonne sono delle testimonial, e la campagna Ferrero è nient'altro che pubblicità. Dall'altro lato, le pensionate contadine sono persone vere, realtà, ma sembrano considerare le quattro nonne della campagna promozionale come due vere nonne. In realtà, i due gruppi giocano su due campi diversi, sono l'espressione di due ruoli diversi e perseguono scopi diversi. Anche se dovessero incontrarsi, parlerebbero due linguaggi differenti. Per organizzare un vero dibattito social sul tema “Il cibo industriale può essere tradizionale?”, la Ferrero dovrebbe adottare il vero linguaggio dei social media. In realtà, dovrebbe invitare pubblicamente le vere nonne italiane a visitare lo stabilimento e dovrebbe aprire i suoi social media al pubblico dibattito. Questo significherebbe adottare veramente il linguaggio dei social media e prendere in considerazione il ruolo delle nonne come guardiane della tradizione

New Questions for Local Food Companies

In another post of this blog, I wrote about the critiques surrounding the zero-miles food theory. To sum up, the problem is that today people travel around the world and live big parts of their lives far from their birthplaces much more than in the past. All of this has caused displacement, and food from birthplaces is the easiest and best way of curing distress. That's why Italian people living in London don't buy zero-miles English food, but lots-of-miles pasta and Parmigiano. And the same happens to the Indians living in Europe, the Egyptians in the US, and so on. 

In addition, much research has demonstrated that sometimes importing food from other countries is less polluting than growing food at home. Finally, many local companies are selling their products on the internet globally, sending local foods to other countries and thus contradicting the basic rule of the theory. Interestingly, those who buy this local food are both people suffering with food nostalgia and people who have nothing to do with the geographic origins of that food. As a result, the idea of eating food coming from the same area where one lives is still fascinating in theory, but is becoming less feasible in practice.

If we assume that the zero food miles theory is in difficulty, we must also assume that the companies producing and selling local food have a problem. In fact, these companies have often based their communication on the fact that they are a zero food miles company. Now that the theory is less fascinating, new questions arise. Why do people buy local food? How should local food companies promote their products?

The problem is already here, and some of these companies are looking for new strategies. Interestingly, Italian national channels are broadcasting the commercial of mozzarella Francia, a local brand which is very popular in the area surrounding Rome. This brand has often promoted its products by underlining its local production process. The new commercial, instead, ignores the local character of the brand, which is now available in many Italian regions and is in fact promoted on national channels. The commercial focuses on the fact that this mozzarella doesn't contain citric acid and other ingredients extraneous to mozzarella's traditional recipe, only containing milk, salt and rennet. Thus, the commercial seems to say: “Wherever you live and were born, buy it because it's local, and thus it's good”

I strongly believe that local food will be increasingly successful in the near future. However, what I also believe is that the people who will buy it will live far from the region where that food has been produced. They will buy it either for nostalgia or because they simply like it., because it's better than the global counterpart By contrast, local foods will decreasingly be bought as it is produced close to home. In short, the famous lardo di Colonnata will be more successful out of than in Colonnata.

Zero Food Miles: Theory and Practice

Zero miles (or zero kilometres) is a really fascinating food theory. It asserts that we should consume food grown and marketed close to the place where we live. By doing so, we avoid food that travels for many miles by flight, ship, truck and other polluting means of transport. Apart from pollution, zero miles also allows us to eat fresher food which does not contain preservatives and other ingredients that threatens health, taste and nutritional values.

As often happens, good theories fail when they are turned into practice. First of all, it has been demonstrated that the environmental relevance of zero miles does not apply to everywhere. In the northern part of Britain, for example, growing fruit and vegetables needs energy-consuming, heated-up greenhouses, as the weather does not permit the natural growing of some vegetables. A recent research has demonstrated that importing products from Spain pollutes less than growing them in the central and northern part of Britain. Thus, the first point is that zero miles does not guarantee environmental advantage on some parts of the planet.

However, the real problem with zero miles is cultural. In fact, in this era more than in any other, people travel and live for long periods far from their original places, often for their entire lives. In these new places, they build new lives, establish new relationships and do things that they would have never done at their original homes. Yet, they often feel the need not to lose their roots, and consuming foods from their birthplaces is the easiest and best way to retrieve those roots.

My Italian friends living in London theoretically support zero kilometres, but their refrigerators and kitchen shelves are full of Parmigiano Reggiano, authentic Italian pasta and mozzarella, extra-virgin olive oil authentically produced in Italy and an array of Italian foods much more various than those I have in Italy. They find them in the most popular supermarkets in London, which import all that food from Italy ignoring the zero miles theory. Questioned by me, my friends have said that they would never replace Parmigiano Reggiano with British cheese, Italian pasta with British pasta, and so on. Clearly, those products make them feel at home. Apart from their wonderful taste, those foods have the function of retrieving my friends' roots. The same happens to the other Italians who have emigrated everywhere, and to the Indians, Egyptians, Bulgarians and so on that have built new lives far from their birthplaces.

Food is a magician. It conveys memories, emotions, scents and people that have been important in our past. This is not theory, but everyday life. A useful and effective theory such as zero miles cannot keep up with the strength of the flood of emotions and nostalgia that sometimes gets into our lives without asking permission. It is probably disputable, but when at the crossroads where we will have to choose between correctness and emotions, we will more often give up our environmental awareness and take the road of the taste of our past.

Cosa ci insegnano Slow Food e il Salone del Gusto 2016

Spesso criticato per il suo conservatorismo e per la sua attenzione al passato più che al presente o al futuro, Slow Food quest'anno ha dato a tutti una bella lezione, dimostrando di capire i trend sociali e culturali emergenti meglio di chiunque altro.

Sociologi ed esperti di fenomeni culturali, si veda ad esempio questo bel libro di Bonomi,Masiero e Della Puppa, ci spiegano come oggi ogni cosa stia cambiando e come la società digitale comporti nuovi modi di produzione, commercializzazione, consumo e comunicazione. Questi studiosi ci dicono che il vecchio sistema lineare di produzione, ma anche di scambio sociale, sta lasciando il posto a un sistema 'circolare'. Tutto questo si traduce nella scomparsa di un unico 'emittente', di una fonte di sapere affidabile a cui tutti si rivolgono. Le fonti, oggi, ognuno se le sceglie a suo piacimento, non solo costruendo reti di sapere con le mille fonti che la tecnologia e internet mettono a disposizione, ma anche partecipando attivamente ad esse, diventando produttore di sapere in prima persona.

Purtroppo, il mondo del cibo, soprattutto in Italia, sembra impermeabile a questo cambio di paradigma e continua a cullarsi su allori che, se non adeguati al presente e non proiettati verso il futuro, si dissolveranno nel giro di qualche anno.

Un po' a sorpresa, è stato Slow Food a muoversi con coraggio. L'edizione 2016 di Terramadre Salone del Gusto è stata infatti totalmente diversa dalle diciannove precedenti. La rassegna non si è più tenuta al Lingotto, 'luogo unico del sapere' dove negli anni scorsi tutti andavano a 'imparare' qualcosa in fatto di cibo. L'evento è invece diventato un happening diffuso in tutta la città di Torino. Il Parco del Valentino, via Roma, piazza San Carlo, il Borgo Medievale, la Reggia di Venaria, il Teatro Carignano, Palazzo Reale, il quartiere multietnico di San Salvario e molte altre zone della città sono diventate piccole fonti di sapere che ogni visitatore poteva inserire nel proprio personale percorso. Insomma, ogni visitatore ha potuto costruire un proprio network di saperi attraverso la città, nella maniera teorizzata dal libro di Masiero & C. In più, molti visitatori hanno anche preso parte all'evento in maniera attiva, grazie a workshop e laboratori in cui hanno potuto misurare lo stato del proprio rapporto con il cibo.

Insomma, mentre i visitatori del lingotto erano ancora 'consumatori' o ancora peggio 'spettatori' all'interno dei padiglioni fieristici, i visitatori del Salone diffuso si sono sentiti qualcos'altro. Non hanno pagato il biglietto d'ingresso (a parte qualche iniziativa speciale) e hanno partecipato in maniera più attiva (ma sul ruolo attivo dei visitatori si può fare molto di più).

Slow Food ha, ancora una volta, aperto una strada. Adesso tocca agli altri capire che anche il cibo nei prossimi anni cambierà, e cambierà il modo in cui gli esseri umani lo producono, lo lavorano, lo consumano, lo comunicano e, cosa sempre più importante, lo smaltiscono. Dimentichiamo le vecchie modalità lineari, e prepariamoci tutti ad avere a che fare con logiche di rete, ruolo attivo del consumatore, circolarità e benessere sociale. Il nuovo è già qui, prendiamo tutti esempio dal Salone del Gusto 2016 e, perchè no, facciamo ancora di più.

How Much is a Kilo of Identity?

Recently, at a local-organic-fair food market my attention was drawn by a little jar of sauce containing sardines. The man selling it was also the producer, and told me that those jars came from Campania, the Italian region where this product is “almost a religion”. When I asked how much, without any shame he answered '15 Euros' (about £12 and $16). When I instinctively asked why 15 euros, he answered: 'Because this is identity'. “This is pasta sauce!”, I objected, but it was too late. Starring blankly, the producer was explaining the entire production process, talking about Campanian families producing it with almost religious rituals, etc., and the conclusion was the undoubted link between high price and identity.

No one can exclude that food shapes who we are, but this has nothing to do with the price of a jar of pasta sauce. Instead, I believe that the high price of many organic foods has to do with frauds. Frauds regarding organic and local foods are growing every day. Not only do these foods cost insensately more than the other products, but also many foods sold as organic are actually industrially processed. Why are frauds growing around organic food?

Food cheaters rule where the direct link between people and food origins is broken, and a gap has to be bridged. Industrial food has broken this link, and in fact we know nothing about what we eat. As magicians, organic food producers promise us that by eating their foods we will find what we have lost. So, a jar of pasta sauce may miraculously give us the illusion that we are bridging this gap. Actually, this is not true. What is true, instead, is that a supposed identity is sold as a product, also at an expensive price, and people are eager to buy it to heal the wounds of consumerist society. But it's a paradox, because you can't recover from consumerism by remaining in the same logic. Instead, this system is only a further attempt of consumerism to make money. People who are not targeted by the mainstream market, are involved with an apparently different mechanism, actually working the same way.

What to do, then? Is our destiny already established and there is no chance of liberation? Whatever we do, are we condemned into the hell of capitalism, as many pessimistic sociologists say? I don't think so. Only, we should look at phenomena occurring out of the logic of consumerism. They are often hidden and ignored by mainstream media, but they do exist. One of them is the Italian GAS (Gruppi di Acquisto Solidale). They will be the topic of one of my next posts, as they deserve more space than the end of a post. They have been surviving in Italy for twenty years, even though they have never be come popular. But they are there, and this reassures me.

What is this blog?

Behind Food is a blog discussing social, cultural, historical and political elements hidden behind what we eat. I will write the posts of more general interest in English, and only those regarding Italian affairswill be written in Italian.

I'm an ex journalist and scriptwriter, and received my PhD on food and the media at Queen Margaret University, Edinburgh. I have published many studies on these topics and have taught media studies at the universities of Stirling and Bournemouth. At present, I'm a postdoc researcher at IUAV - University of Venice and a contract professor at the Catholic University of Milan.

My academic profile is available at http://204.academia.edu/FrancescoBuscemiPhD and at https://www.researchgate.net/profile/Francesco_Buscemi_Phd

By merging my academic activity and my past job as a journalist, I would like to blog about more practical and current issues and to divulge what I analyse academically.