Eat my words: Food adds some sizzle

An alphabet soup is more eloquent than some restaurant press releases.

If in doubt, throw in a chef. Or a food image. This is the stuff of Marketing 101 nowadays.

Need to brighten up the sales message for an aged-care facility?

What about a pic of some bloke with a pair of tongs ruining a steak with an inferno leaping from his grill? Easy-peasy, even if dentures and ruined beef are incompatible.

Flogging a cruise around the islands for a few thousand budget holidaymakers? Mangoes, for sure, and maybe the odd rambutan.

Suggestion of foodie stuff makes everything more palatable, if you’ll pardon the pun, and it would seem 2016 was the year the Canberra-based Australian National Dictionary Centre got on board with the idea. Its decision to make “democracy sausage” the word of the year (yes, it’s two, I know) clearly demonstrates the folks at the ANDC recognised their award needed a bit of extra ... sizzle.

They backed up with another food term, our own Bernard Salt’s “smashed avo”, as runner-up and, if we’re getting lateral about it, “shoey” gets there too. (A “shoey” is the act of drinking Champagne on the winners’ podium from a racing driver’s shoe, as popularised by Perth’s favourite son Daniel Ricciardo in 2016.) According to the Australian National University, where the centre is located, its word of the year is “based on extensive research as well as public suggestions”. I guess it’s too late, but I have a few more words to suggest to the committee. Most come from that never-ending source of mirth, the restaurant press release. I could defame the people responsible awfully here and it simply wouldn’t matter because they don’t read anything longer than an Instagram caption.

Signature (as in dish): something the restaurant makes great profit on and therefore never leaves the menu.

Brainchild (as in an idea, had by someone): a wholly unoriginal business concept that has gone past the lending officer and into reality. “The place selling coffee and muesli is the brainchild of X.”

Iconic (as in, we need an adjective to describe how important we think our business is): sounds like “ironic” but irony is scarce in this scene.

Institution (as in, place with a decent reputation): the threshold for institutional status is fluid these days. Beppi’s and Flower Drum, take note. A brand that started in 2012 selling comfort food, which now has four outlets in Melbourne, was recently conferred the status of “iconic institution” in one press release. That easy, apparently.

Curated (as in, selected wines to sell): nobody chooses things and puts them together anymore. Those jeans, that shirt, those shoes ... Yes, you have curated an outfit.

Celebrity (as in, chef): once a chef has mastered using a radio mike and done a demo or two, appeared on one of those daytime food shows, he or she (but let’s face it, he) becomes available for any non-core gig going. Once you’re known as a “celebrity chef” the world, and all sorts of glamorous folks who might look good next to you in the tabloid gossip pages, is your oyster. It’s about perception.

Reach out: ask you to consider.

How about “ask you to consider”?

All that cynicism has made me hungry: time for a sausage. Make mine democratic, thanks. With a good squirt of Keep It Simple, Stupid sauce. Not a problem.