Wholesome goodness overload

I had a brain fritz during cocktail hour one day last week, and not because of the cocktails. It was courtesy of … um … a wretched excess of wholesomeness, and/or cracker branding insanity.

Here’s the deal: I was sitting in the kitchen at my friend Tameron’s house, sipping and chatting while she cooked dinner. Tameron, a good cook and a gracious hostess, had laid out cocktail snacks including some goat cheese and delish pesto to spread on crackers. I noticed that the crackers were unusual and really good. When I asked about them, she handed me a box of Mary’s Gone brand crackers.

So, as I peruse the attractive, Whole-Foods-ish, probably-overpriced, box of crackers with the weird brand name, I slide into health-benefit-claim sensory overload and cognitive disconnect. Fast!

On the front of the box, in the middle, right under the brand name, is the information that these crackers are – and I quote, in order – organic, wheat-free and gluten-free. Okay. So far, so good. I can cope. Then, I notice the bright yellow starburst over to the side, announcing that these crackers are also vegan, a concept – go ahead, call me a troglodyte – that I’m simply not able to get all excited about. Okay Mary, I get the picture. Your crackers are good for me. Now let’s move on.

But noooo! There’s more …

On the side panel we get this list: Organic, Kosher, Non-GMO (GMO? WTF?), Whole grain (Ummm, I think I’d already guessed that one), Made with Love (Are you kidding me, here?), Vegan, Dairy-free, Wheat-free, Gluten-free, No Hydrogenated Oils, No Trans-fats, Contains 450 mg. of omega-3 fatty acids per serving, Manufactured in our own dedicated gluten-free, dairy-free, nut-free (Nut-free? Not in my view!) facility.

Gadzooks! Anything else? How about world peace? Or restoring eyesight to the blind? Or maybe helping Donald Trump grow his hair back?

As I marvel at all this, I begin to feel – I don’t know how to describe it – sort of full. Like I can’t eat another cracker because they’re already taking up too much space in my brain,  never mind my tummy. It all becomes sort of … non-food-ish … medicinal.

Please don’t think I’m making light of food allergies. I’m not. Nor am I making fun of healthy eating, which is something I try to do myself. Within reason. And I happen to know a woman right here in Nashvegas, who’s a strict vegan and a delightful person – very bright, very good-looking, with a great figure and good color in her cheeks, and seemingly healthy as a horse. So, I’m all for eating everything-free if that’s what floats your boat. Go ahead. Knock yourself out.

But this box – not the cracker, by the way, the box – is a problem. It takes TMI to a whole new level. It sort of makes me forget I was eating a tasty cracker smeared with cheese and pesto, and washing it down with alcohol. Which was why I was sitting there in the first place. The whole focus of cocktail hour – both conversational and gustatory – shifted to the cracker and its ingredients, or lack of same.

Cracker as narcissist. Not a good thing!

So what’s the marketing angle?

Easy: Don’t give people more information than they need or want. In fact avoid it like the plague. Or, for you gluten-free, vegan-ish, omega-3 fatty acid fans, avoid it like a biscuit made with lard, buttered and slathered with pan gravy.

In the case of these crackers, Mary – or whoever she left behind when she went away (the dubious wisdom of using Mary’s Gone as a brand name is a subject for another Marketini) – could have snagged 90% of the healthy eating crowd with half the claims they make on this box. And it’s not a big box either, which makes the cascade of claims loom even larger. As for me, less picky than some, Mary and/or her successors could have hooked me with taste and crunch alone. But, as it is … I’m feeling a little put off.

And there’s this: A little question about honesty begins to sneak into my mind from the corner. Anybody who makes this many claims has to be hiding something – or that’s what my jaded-consumer mind wants to tell me. Made with love? Oh, please!  So what else about these crackers isn’t on the up and up.

Boiling it down: Tell your customer the truth – we’ve hit on this in Marketini before and likely will again – but not too much of it. Know when to stop. Make a claim, or two, then shut up and let the customer trust his/her own judgment. If they like you, they’ll buy more. If they don’t, all your claims – true or not – won’t help.

And, if you talk ’em to death on the front end, they may run away before they even buy.

Oh man! Time for a drink!

Talking about snacks makes me thirsty. Wonder why that is …

It’s getting hot and sticky out there. Time for another summer cooler – the tasty, refreshing, intoxicating Mojito. Think sultry nights. Think Latin rhythms. Think whatever you wish. This is one good drink!

Mojitos are made with white rum (Bacardi, etc.), lime juice (yep, you gotta squeeze it), mint leaves, simple syrup (more about which below), a touch of club soda and a dash of Angostura biters. If that sounds complex, don’t worry. The liquid proportions are easy to remember and once you get the hang of it, this is pretty easy – even after you’ve had a few. Furthermore, this is a great party drink. I like to mix up a gallon or so at a time and serve them up as needed.

Two quick items to cover before we get to the recipe: simple syrup and muddle.

Simple Syrup: In my view, this is the best way to sweeten a drink. You’ll see recipes that call for confectioners sugar among other things, but simple syrup is the way to go. It’s easy to measure, mixes completely with the other ingredients and doesn’t get all over everything like sugar does. It’s also easy to make. Equal parts sugar and water. Boil the water and pour in the sugar while stirring. When it cools it’s ready to go and it keeps more-or-less forever in the fridge. I keep mine in an old olive oil bottle.

Muddle: Within the context of cocktails, muddle means to mash something to release the flavor. Muddled mint leaves are used in several drinks, Mojitos and Mint Juleps among them. Ideally this is done at the bottom of a mixing glass with a muddler which is something like a long-handled pestle (as in mortar and pestle) or an exceptionally small baseball bat. No muddler? No problem! You can do this with practically anything. I’ve used the back side of a table spoon and the handle end of a screwdriver. When a good drink is in the offing, never hesitate to use your wits and improvise.

Mojito

• One part simple syrup
• One part fresh lime juice
• Two parts white rum
• Mint leaves
• Angostura bitters
• Club soda

Pour the simple syrup along with several mint leaves per drink into a glass or shaker  – or clean peanut butter jar if that’s all you’ve got. Muddle until the leaves are mashed and broken, not pulverized. Add the lime and rum and shake with ice. Fill a highball glass – tall and thinish, like your granny might drink iced tea out of – ¾ full of ice. Pour in enough Mojito to float the ice, add a good shake of bitters and top off with club soda. Stir once with a long-handled spoon and you are ready to go. Good hosts and hostesses usually garnish with a sprig of mint, but it doesn’t make the drink taste one bit better, so I say this step is optional. I often do it on the first round and then say to hell with it.

Serve these babies up and you’ll be salsa dancing by the second round!