I don’t know about you, but the idea of ‘aliments irradies’ (irradiated food*) doesn’t sit that well with me… I don’t like knowing that my food has been tampered with, zapped, touched too many times during the food prep period, or otherwise harassed. I like my food flavorful, and as close to nature as it can be: I like to taste every nuance and be able to identify what I am eating. When things get too complicated, and the menu description is too long, I’m out.
Turns out that zapping the hell out of one’s food isn’t a new thing – although it does still exist: in the 1920’s (when this fab poster advertising Lavocat products was printed) companies began experimenting with the idea of irradiation, which, occurring to Wikipedia is: “ the process of exposing food to ionizing radiation to destroy microorganisms, bacteria, viruses, or insects that might be present in the food. Further applications include sprout inhibition, delay of ripening, increase of juice yield, and improvement of re-hydration. Irradiated food does not become radioactive, but in some cases there may be subtle chemical changes.” I don’t know about you, but that leads me to wonder….
I like food (and posters for that matter) that you don’t need an advanced degree to decipher. There is a restaurant here in Montreal that I love: their food is outstanding and beautifully prepared, in every dish, every ingredient is used to perfection, and the wine list is complete and approachable. The only quibble I have is with the need on the part of some of the staff “to explain the dynamic of the restaurant”… If you need to explain something to me, tell me how the chef gets the chilled corn soup to taste as exquisitely fresh and sweet as he does, or tell me how a salad of endive, fennel and grapefruit can taste so much better in your place than it does in mine. I don’t need to understand the dynamics of your restaurant – I just need to know the food is good, the kitchen is clean and the chef washed his hands after he used the loo…
The same is true of posters: you don’t need to know anything other than that you like them (or you don’t). Whether it is a little schoolboy advertising LU biscuits, or an older gentleman extolling the merits of MIK (an early version of Sanka), we like it pure and simple… just like our food.