Cooking with Coke, married to a doll

Cooking with Coke, married to a doll


Daniel Carey

A FEW weeks ago, I was in a Castlebar pub just before the start of the Tri-Nations rugby match between New Zealand and South Africa. With the volume on the TV turned down until kick-off, we got to watch the All Blacks perform the haka while ‘Jump’ by Girls Aloud blasted out on the radio. If you have access to a tape of the haka and a CD from Nadine, Cheryl and the gang, I recommend trying it sometime. I’ll never watch those giants of men perform that Maori dance in quite the same way ever again.
But then, TV can change your perspective on lots of things. While on a recent visit to the United States, I had my first dose for some time of ‘The Jerry Springer Show’. The episode – entitled ‘I’ll Marry You Anyway’ – featured run-of-the-mill love triangles and bribery, but one guest stood out. This man revealed that he wanted to marry the love of his life, whom he had met on the internet. He proceeded to sing her praises from the rafters, so the audience were shocked when his ‘fiancée’ turned out to be … a blow-up doll.
With people like him around, I guess advertisers feel they can’t be too careful. That’s the only excuse I can come up with for a TV commercial I saw in the States for Levitra, which is used in the treatment of impotence. Users were advised to seek medical help ‘if you experience an erection lasting more than four hours’. That might be a good idea all right.
Other places and products can rely on word of mouth. Last Sunday fortnight, I was in the Cracker Barrel Old Country Store in Fishkill, New York, an extraordinary shop which included a gift store full of quirky items and a restaurant with a huge selection of food.
The souvenirs on display included a dog whose ears move up and down to the tune of ‘I Got You (I Feel Good)’ by James Brown. If it hadn’t been so big, I’d have bought it on the spot.
On the culinary side of things, the Cracker Barrel shop sold a book with a seemingly oxymoronic title, ‘Super-Fast Slow Cooking’, which included all kinds of recipes, including one for something called ‘Not Your Mother’s Green Beans’. The gastronomic equivalent of ‘Well I wouldn’t start from here’, I guess.
For those who take their brand loyalty to extremes, there was ‘Classic Cooking With Coca-Cola’, which does exactly what it says on the tin. Yes, every single dish covered in this book includes a Coca-Cola product, be it Coke, Fanta, Sprite or Minute Maid, as an ingredient. Even better, you might say, than the real thing.
Twenty minutes after leaving the Cracker Barrel, one of our party of 12 realised that she had left her camera there. She returned to find it still hanging on the back of the chair.
“It just proves the honesty of people,” one impressed Irishwoman said. “Or the lack of observation,” a cynical American chipped in. Either way, at least there’s still proof that we were there.