Food Groups

Last week, I spent 36 hours in a dark room, behind a one-way mirror, spying on fast food consumers.

I was in 'Groups' as my team so fondly refers to the age-old form of consumer marketing research. And for the better part of three days, I watched average and above average eaters salivate over and sample new spins on classic cravings; I listened attentively (in English and in Spanish) as they talked about breakfast, lunch, dinner and every meal in between; I took notes on food choices, food pairings, and food afterthoughts; and I drove like a maniac at hour 36 of 36 to get out of Groups and into bed on Thursday night.

Despite all the different directions that conversations strayed, there was one thing that remained consistent. The better the food; the quieter the room. Lip licking and smacking spoke volumes of its own. And a follow up mmmmm hmmmmm gave full confirmation that one serving was the hands down winner.

It was a week of concentrated, organized food anthropology, and despite the hours associated with it, I found it fascinating. So interesting that I wanted to bring it home with me, to the consumers I care most about.

I realize that I'm raising a family in a fast food world. A place where our attention span for eating only lasts as long as the red light where we paused to take a bite. I've tried to fight it, but the pace of the world tends to win and generally only allots ten to fifteen minutes to eat as a family. The novelty of dinnertime ends when the next best thing comes to mind.

Say, a new book. Or bath time. Or the chance to keep playing with your cousins.

The other night, at a little birthday celebration for Uncle Trent, Mary's tolerance for her high chair was particularly low. She shoved four pieces of strip steak in her mouth, said 'duh,' and wiggled her way out and back onto solid ground. Her cousins weren't having their hot dogs either. The kids wanted to play. That is, until dessert was served.

I had made a cake. Which quickly became a conversation and anticipation piece. And just like in Groups, the silence and calm it produced was almost magical. It wasn't that it was the best thing on the menu; the blue ribbon definitely went to Jan's steaks. But it was the fact that cake, frosting, and creamy vanilla ice cream are such a treat that it demands one's full attention.


The new found food anthropologist thought on. What about a celebration cake silences the chattiest crowd? What about it makes kids sit still and grin ear to ear? Oreos and Chips Ahoy don't have the same the effect; nor do their homemade counterparts. Cakes stand in a class of their own. Sure, it's the tasty layers and the pairing of a soothing dollop of ice cream. But it's more. It's the fact that it's outside of the everyday - a sweet privilege reserved for birthdays, graduations, wedding days, and anniversaries.

It's the fact that there is a piece with your name on it. Your fair share. And if you don't get it quickly, someone else might snag it.

It's the fact that you're allowed. And you were good. And you deserve it.

And it's the sweet chocolate laced smiles that linger into the evening.

As you can tell I'm a big fan of cake. And taking a time out. If indulgence is the answer, I'm okay letting my little cakelette have it every so often.

Lo.