In order for you to fully “participate,” you must first watch “The Man Who Walked Around the World.” Your choices: www.youtube.com/watch?v=MnSIp76CvUI (especially if you need subtitles in order to understand someone speaking in a Scottish brogue) or you can go directly to the Johnnie Walker website, www.johnniewalker.com/en-us/home/. I’ll wait.
Done?
An entertaining dram of corporate history, something that at first glance you might shrug off as a longish commercial. Closer study, however, reveals a blueprint on how to achieve global brand domination.
The story of John Walker and the creation of the Johnnie Walker brand of blended Scotch Whisky is a study in entrepreneurship, global brand management, founding a successful family business that evolves into a legacy business, and packaging.
Category Killer: Young John Walker opens a grocery store with the proceeds from the sale of his late father’s farm. Among his wares, locally distilled single malt whiskies. Fretting about inconsistent quality and selling an inferior product to his customers, he mixes a number of single malts and creates a blended whisky. And in doing so, an entire industry is born. As with any new category, competitors abound.
Controlling critical links in the supply chain: John Walker brings his sons into the business, and already at the pinnacle of the industry, the family buys the distillery at Cardhu, securing their own supply while denying this particular “silky single malt” to their competitors.
Create customer evangelists: After dominating local markets the company casts its sights on the world by enlisting the seafaring captains of Glasgow to act as its sales force.
Unique shelf-friendly packaging: In order to reduce breakage and save space, the whisky was packaged in a square bottle, and the tilted label offered a larger type for the name. This unique packaging earned shelf space, always a concern for those who sell products to retailers. Although the word has been used to the point of being trite, the Johnnie Walker bottle is truly iconic.
Updating the brand and expanding the offering: The grandsons updated the label by asking a young illustrator to sketch the famous walking man seen on every bottle of Johnnie Walker. They also expanded the product line: Red Label and Black Label.
Omnipresence: The market expanded to 120 countries and even more labels (Green Label, Gold Label, and Blue Label) were introduced, widening the appeal while creating cachet value. More importantly the brand weaves its way into the fabric of society.
Messaging: Look at the presentations that Steve Jobs makes at Apple. Not a PowerPoint slide to be seen. No bullet points. Images. A message told in images. Visually this short film is stunning, and technically it’s quite breathtaking. Actor Robert Carlyle delivers his monologue walking in the Scottish hillsides in a single-take. Every prop appears when needed, giving visual punch to his story. There’s even a bow to the master of the long, extended film shot, Alfred Hitchcock.
Carlyle walks through the centuries, the tale spanning nearly two-hundred years. Walking purposefully. The traits of the entrepreneur also span those two-hundred years, and longer. A single-minded focus, courage, being able to see beyond today into tomorrow, creating a vision, achieving what others think is impossible, ambition…all are as necessary today in business as they were in 1819 Kilmarnock.
All this from the decision to create a consistent product to meet customer expectations.
A family business that becomes the most recognized brand in its category. Now that’s a story to “stir a Scottish heart,” and the American one as well.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
And what the fuck, exactly, is a Perez Hilton?
In another example of free speech for me but not for thee, Miss California, Carrie Prejean, apparently lost the crown at the Miss USA 2009 Pageant because of an answer she gave on the subject of same-sex marriage. She chose to answer the rather strange question honestly, giving an answer based on her own beliefs. For this she was booed (there was also some applause) and has been roundly vilified in the ever vigilant-to-"wrong thinking" press.
Here is her answer:
"Well I think it's great that Americans are able to choose one or the other. Um, we live in a land that you can choose same sex marriage or opposite marriage and, you know what, in my country and in, in my family, I think that I believe that a marriage should be between a man and a woman. No offense to anybody out there. But that's how I was raised and that's how I think that it should be between a man and a woman."
Notice, too, how every "um" or syntax error is accurately reported. A bit mendacious, don't you know.
Jumping on the bandwagon is someone named Perez Hilton, though I am fairly certain you won't find that moniker on his birth certificate. And what the fuck, exactly, is a Perez Hilton?
He's a celebrity blogger. Wow, in the words of the Dude from The Big Lebowski, "That must exhausting."
And, being a celebrity blogger qualified him to be one of the judges at the pageant. It must also give you license to dress like a rodeo clown. Through Mr. Hilton we are actually (I'm breathless!) getting inside information.
A twerp co-opts a variation on the name of another equally worthless human being who is famous for being famous and suddenly he is the arbiter of how we must all think?
First, in fairness, let me say that I don't watch the pageant, nor did I watch Perez Hilton's video blog. I read about both.
What troubles me is the tilt towards a flagrant disregard for the First Amendment. I don't agree with Perez Hilton and his ilk, but I can respect that he has formed an opinion based on...well, I'm sure something, critical thinking perhaps, or deep study, reading, maybe. That someone in their early-20s should be held up to such excoriation for expressing her opinion is just plain wrong.
Tolerance, and her answer demonstrated tolerance, is what is called for, not the abandonment of one's own morals, values, and beliefs.
(Not that it is any one's business but I believe that any two people who truly care for and love each other should be able to get married. Doesn't matter the gender or permutations. That is, of course, not the point. The point is, and remains, free speech.)
Here is her answer:
"Well I think it's great that Americans are able to choose one or the other. Um, we live in a land that you can choose same sex marriage or opposite marriage and, you know what, in my country and in, in my family, I think that I believe that a marriage should be between a man and a woman. No offense to anybody out there. But that's how I was raised and that's how I think that it should be between a man and a woman."
Notice, too, how every "um" or syntax error is accurately reported. A bit mendacious, don't you know.
Jumping on the bandwagon is someone named Perez Hilton, though I am fairly certain you won't find that moniker on his birth certificate. And what the fuck, exactly, is a Perez Hilton?
He's a celebrity blogger. Wow, in the words of the Dude from The Big Lebowski, "That must exhausting."
And, being a celebrity blogger qualified him to be one of the judges at the pageant. It must also give you license to dress like a rodeo clown. Through Mr. Hilton we are actually (I'm breathless!) getting inside information.
A twerp co-opts a variation on the name of another equally worthless human being who is famous for being famous and suddenly he is the arbiter of how we must all think?
First, in fairness, let me say that I don't watch the pageant, nor did I watch Perez Hilton's video blog. I read about both.
What troubles me is the tilt towards a flagrant disregard for the First Amendment. I don't agree with Perez Hilton and his ilk, but I can respect that he has formed an opinion based on...well, I'm sure something, critical thinking perhaps, or deep study, reading, maybe. That someone in their early-20s should be held up to such excoriation for expressing her opinion is just plain wrong.
Tolerance, and her answer demonstrated tolerance, is what is called for, not the abandonment of one's own morals, values, and beliefs.
(Not that it is any one's business but I believe that any two people who truly care for and love each other should be able to get married. Doesn't matter the gender or permutations. That is, of course, not the point. The point is, and remains, free speech.)
Friday, September 12, 2008
Our new favorite restaurant
Last Saturday, in a belated celebration of our 30th wedding anniversary, Lynn and I made our first visit to Wine Vault & Bistro. In the course of an evening, five courses and a flight of five wines, this "break the mold" restaurant has become our new favorite.
Chris & Mary Gluck, the owners of Wine Vault & Bistro, have created a new category. The business model is as brilliant as the execution.
Our experience...we ordered the five course Chef's Tasting Menu. There was only one other choice, a cheese plate. This was the first indication that this restaurant was different. Only one choice? Keeps the food costs down, which with a $25 charge for the tasting menu, were passed along to the customer. And who would have thought that fried watermelon, served with a tomato, burrata cheese and micro-basil with a splash of balsamic vinegar, would make an appetizing appetizer? Obviously, the chef, and it worked! As did everything else on the menu. In a time when most restaurants cater to the bland, Wine Vault & Bistro ain't afraid to challenge those taste buds. The rest of the menu consisted of black truffle gnocchi, roasted poussin, brisket with spaetzle, and a flourless chocolate cake.
All accompanied by paired wines. You wander to the wine bar, located in the center of the restaurant, and dutifully hand your check-sheet to the keeper of the grape. He pours your wine in a small carafe and you march back to your table. On the check-sheet are complete, detailed descriptions of each of the wines. Keeps the chatter at the bar to a minimum.
OK, great food paired with perfectly complimenting wines. What's to not like? Well, located at 3731-A India Street, parking is a challenge, but not insurmountable.
Chris and Mary were gracious hosts and have created a wonderful experience.
We learned about the restaurant from Eddie Osterland, America's First Master Sommelier. You won't find the restaurant advertised anywhere. Strictly word-of-mouth, strictly by invitation only through their e-mail list.
If you want to experience this amazing restaurant I would recommend checking out the website, www.winevaultbistro.com and plead to be added to the mailing list.
Chris & Mary Gluck, the owners of Wine Vault & Bistro, have created a new category. The business model is as brilliant as the execution.
Our experience...we ordered the five course Chef's Tasting Menu. There was only one other choice, a cheese plate. This was the first indication that this restaurant was different. Only one choice? Keeps the food costs down, which with a $25 charge for the tasting menu, were passed along to the customer. And who would have thought that fried watermelon, served with a tomato, burrata cheese and micro-basil with a splash of balsamic vinegar, would make an appetizing appetizer? Obviously, the chef, and it worked! As did everything else on the menu. In a time when most restaurants cater to the bland, Wine Vault & Bistro ain't afraid to challenge those taste buds. The rest of the menu consisted of black truffle gnocchi, roasted poussin, brisket with spaetzle, and a flourless chocolate cake.
All accompanied by paired wines. You wander to the wine bar, located in the center of the restaurant, and dutifully hand your check-sheet to the keeper of the grape. He pours your wine in a small carafe and you march back to your table. On the check-sheet are complete, detailed descriptions of each of the wines. Keeps the chatter at the bar to a minimum.
OK, great food paired with perfectly complimenting wines. What's to not like? Well, located at 3731-A India Street, parking is a challenge, but not insurmountable.
Chris and Mary were gracious hosts and have created a wonderful experience.
We learned about the restaurant from Eddie Osterland, America's First Master Sommelier. You won't find the restaurant advertised anywhere. Strictly word-of-mouth, strictly by invitation only through their e-mail list.
If you want to experience this amazing restaurant I would recommend checking out the website, www.winevaultbistro.com and plead to be added to the mailing list.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
The Death of The San Diego Union-Tribune
Each week brings another wound, the equivalent of death by a thousand paper cuts, to the local fish wrapper.
Between the onslaught of the Internet, Craigslist, and the host of specialized websites and blogs, newspapers have become the incredible shrinking clarions. Ignore the fact that what you see on the front page you saw last night (or two days ago) on the web. It's the rest of the newspaper that is withering, making it less immediate.
Between the onslaught of the Internet, Craigslist, and the host of specialized websites and blogs, newspapers have become the incredible shrinking clarions. Ignore the fact that what you see on the front page you saw last night (or two days ago) on the web. It's the rest of the newspaper that is withering, making it less immediate.
- Whither the Book Section? The San Diego Union-Tribune was once one of seven newspapers that published a weekly book section. Now the "section" has been relegated to a page in the Arts and the occasional mid-week review. Hello! Readers of newspapers probably read books.
- Advertisements on the front page of the newspaper!
- Expanded charts from Del Mar disappeared about a week ago, driving all degenerate track hounds to...the web.
- A new section, written by the public, is almost unreadable. The articles read like the worst PR puff-pieces, generously larded with deadly prose and grammatical leaps of faith.
- Ditto the North County, or East County sections. In an attempt to make all news local, the Union-Tribune has dumbed-down to the lowest possible denominator.
- No more TV Guide in the paper. OK, I haven't used it years and I suspect that I am not alone, but senior citizens are up in arms. Easy for us to snicker at them and suggest they hit the Guide button on their cable controller, but c'mon, technology may not be their "thang."
Instead we have a list of celebrity birthdays, a column on page 2 that regales us with the comings and goings of such paragons of sobriety as Amy Winehouse, Brittany Spears, and Lindsay Lohan. The newspaper is becoming a collection in inane, superficial factoids.
Maybe it is time to think the unthinkable. The lazy Sunday mornings with the newspaper spread over the breakfast table, decorated with scone crumbs and coffee mug rings, may be only a few in number. Doing the New York Times crossword puzzle may not be enough to justify keeping the subscription.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Best ot Italy...the meals
During our stay in Manarola, one the Cinque Terre, we ate dinner at Il Picciolino, under the watchful eye of the matriarch of the family that runs the restaurant. We had an appetizer, a caprese salad, tomatoes and mozzarella. Lynn opted for the the ravioli while I chose the spaghetti with clam sauce. That was the primi piatti, or first dish. If there's a first there must be a secundi piatti and here we both at sole. Sole that had been swimming in the ocean that morning, caught by one of the Manarola fishermen. Then we finished with cappuchino.
This was about nineteen days into our trip. We groaned during our walk back to the hotel, groaned because we had eaten so much we were in distress. We had our epiphany...essentially we had spent most of the past three weeks consuming two entrees at every dinner.
Here then, are our choices for the best meals we ate while in Italy.
4th Place...the aforementioned Il Picciolino. Family owned, fresh seafood, the never ending bowl of pasta.
3rd Place...Tre Scalini, Piazza Navona, Rome...A front row seat at one of Rome's liveliest piazzas, and home of Bernini's Four Rivers fountain. We ate a leisurely dinner and watched the circus that unfolded before our eyes. Lynn had ravioli and a veal piccata, while I ate rigatoni all' Amatriciana (a Roman sauce) and oso buco, veal shank. Dessert, coffee, wine and a maitre d' who did lines from the movie Barry Lyndon rounded out the evening.
2nd Place...Enoteca da Valigia, Venice...after stumbling out of this wine bar following a wine tasting, we asked if we could return for dinner. A hearty yes. Did we need reservations? An equally hearty no. When we arrived that same evening we were ushered to a tiny table for two. We were surrounded by native Venetians, a singing owner, and our irrepressible waiter, who insisted on plying us with free drinks (prosecco when we sat down, a palate-cleansing lemon sorbet--spiced up with vodka and prosecco, and a Bailey's Irish Cream to put an end to things.) Lynn had pennette with a pesto sauce, I demolished most of the mixed antipasto plate of Italian meats. Then we moved to John Dory for Lynn, and lamb chops for me.
1st Place...Cantina del Vecchio, Rome, Via del Coronari, 30...Run by an amiable British expat with an encyclopedic knowledge of Italian wines, we had our last supper in Rome at Cantina del Vecchio, the scene of an earlier wine tasting. We made reservations for the Friday night and entered a restaurant where every table was taken. Alan, who was delighted to see us, escorted us to our table and personally took our orders. We told him that we ha decided to try the house specialities he had mentioned during our earlier visit and that he had carte blanche to bring any wine that he felt would be paired well with our choices. We shared a risotto with guinea fowl and shaved Pienza cheese. Lynn had the turbot, stuffed with prosciutto, zucchini and potatoes, while I had lamb stuffed with bacon and plums. We weren't quite singing following the dinner, but one more sip of wine might have done it. Alan was a superb host and a restaurateur who takes a very different approach than most of his Roman competitors. Here's his website: http://www.cantinadelvecchio.it/default.asp. Obviously, our first choice for a meal when in Rome.
More later...
This was about nineteen days into our trip. We groaned during our walk back to the hotel, groaned because we had eaten so much we were in distress. We had our epiphany...essentially we had spent most of the past three weeks consuming two entrees at every dinner.
Here then, are our choices for the best meals we ate while in Italy.
4th Place...the aforementioned Il Picciolino. Family owned, fresh seafood, the never ending bowl of pasta.
3rd Place...Tre Scalini, Piazza Navona, Rome...A front row seat at one of Rome's liveliest piazzas, and home of Bernini's Four Rivers fountain. We ate a leisurely dinner and watched the circus that unfolded before our eyes. Lynn had ravioli and a veal piccata, while I ate rigatoni all' Amatriciana (a Roman sauce) and oso buco, veal shank. Dessert, coffee, wine and a maitre d' who did lines from the movie Barry Lyndon rounded out the evening.
2nd Place...Enoteca da Valigia, Venice...after stumbling out of this wine bar following a wine tasting, we asked if we could return for dinner. A hearty yes. Did we need reservations? An equally hearty no. When we arrived that same evening we were ushered to a tiny table for two. We were surrounded by native Venetians, a singing owner, and our irrepressible waiter, who insisted on plying us with free drinks (prosecco when we sat down, a palate-cleansing lemon sorbet--spiced up with vodka and prosecco, and a Bailey's Irish Cream to put an end to things.) Lynn had pennette with a pesto sauce, I demolished most of the mixed antipasto plate of Italian meats. Then we moved to John Dory for Lynn, and lamb chops for me.
1st Place...Cantina del Vecchio, Rome, Via del Coronari, 30...Run by an amiable British expat with an encyclopedic knowledge of Italian wines, we had our last supper in Rome at Cantina del Vecchio, the scene of an earlier wine tasting. We made reservations for the Friday night and entered a restaurant where every table was taken. Alan, who was delighted to see us, escorted us to our table and personally took our orders. We told him that we ha decided to try the house specialities he had mentioned during our earlier visit and that he had carte blanche to bring any wine that he felt would be paired well with our choices. We shared a risotto with guinea fowl and shaved Pienza cheese. Lynn had the turbot, stuffed with prosciutto, zucchini and potatoes, while I had lamb stuffed with bacon and plums. We weren't quite singing following the dinner, but one more sip of wine might have done it. Alan was a superb host and a restaurateur who takes a very different approach than most of his Roman competitors. Here's his website: http://www.cantinadelvecchio.it/default.asp. Obviously, our first choice for a meal when in Rome.
More later...
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
I see dead people
Italy is stuffed with famous dead people. They've had a couple of millenia head start on us. So quickly, a list of some of the dead people we have seen.
- Victor Emmanuel II...not a big fan among the Romans
- Rafael
- Pope John XXIII...whose body did not decay after death
- Michelangelo
- Galileo
- Enrico Fermi...for your physicists
- St. Francis of Assisi
- St. Clare...his Assisi homegirl
- The final resting spot of Julius Caesar, but you know the saying, ashes to ashes
- St. Ignatius de la Salle
- His homeboy, Luis Gonzaga...he has an NCAA powerhouse named after him
That's just to name a few. They history is rich, byzantine, convoluted...hey, it's Italy where the government has changed over 40 times since the end of World War II.
We are cruising through our last day in Florence. Next stop, some excellent gelato, then a 15th century home, and a few other stops before dinner tonight.
Bad fashion idea: men in capri pants, there ought to be a law.
Also, we have seen our fair share of Germans on this trip. Other than Italian, it's the next most spoken language we have heard here...even more than English (and we've got the UK, Canada, Australia, New Zealand and the good old USA to contribute to that lingua franca.) The Germans have a history of marching through Italy, from barbarian days until, well, barbarian days. In Rome you could spot the German tour groups with no problem. They all dressed alike, the most disturbing a group of middle aged men in black shirts and pants and orange and yellow striped ties. Then another group in traditional dress.
We added Siena to our city list, visiting because our amazing niece, Katie, is heading here next school year for a semester abroad. She'll miss the Palio but will have a great time living in a medieval city.
Arriverderci!
Monday, May 26, 2008
Lessons from Italy, or Leccioni di Italia
In Firenze, still befuddled by the keyboard, but it does allow you to use the right "e" in café!
We spent a week at a farmhouse in Umbria, where we learned the Centigrade system by its continuous plummet. The stone farmhouse we lived in for the week posted temperatures in the 12° or 13° range. Think low 50s. Being a man who had more than his share of engineering schooling, I figured out how to turn on the heater (as well as mastering the stovetop espresso maker) only to learn heat was extra! $2,300 for the week and heat was extra!
It rained for seven days straight in Umbria, so the visions of sitting in the Italian countryside sun and eating breakfast and dinner al fresco was not to be. I did manage a couple of cigars in the evening, listening to the lowing of the cattle.
The Tuscans and Umbrians have a thing going, as in the other guys stuff is basically ALL WRONG. The wine, the bread, the olive oil, the pizza, the ceramics, everything...if it comes from the other camp, worthless.
Highlights of the past week:
We spent a week at a farmhouse in Umbria, where we learned the Centigrade system by its continuous plummet. The stone farmhouse we lived in for the week posted temperatures in the 12° or 13° range. Think low 50s. Being a man who had more than his share of engineering schooling, I figured out how to turn on the heater (as well as mastering the stovetop espresso maker) only to learn heat was extra! $2,300 for the week and heat was extra!
It rained for seven days straight in Umbria, so the visions of sitting in the Italian countryside sun and eating breakfast and dinner al fresco was not to be. I did manage a couple of cigars in the evening, listening to the lowing of the cattle.
The Tuscans and Umbrians have a thing going, as in the other guys stuff is basically ALL WRONG. The wine, the bread, the olive oil, the pizza, the ceramics, everything...if it comes from the other camp, worthless.
Highlights of the past week:
- Cortona...even with the influence of Frances Mayes and Under the Tuscan Sun, the town is charming and has one of the most unusual museums we have ever seen
- The cooking class at Badia a Coltibuono, the Abbey of Good Harvest...we are armed an dangerous with four incredible recipes (our chef was quite the wit, when asked what a typical Italian breakfast consisted of he replied, "Coffee and a cigarette.")
- Assisi where we visited the amazing Basilica of Saint Francis, the Church of Saint Clare (who founded the Poor Clares order after falling under the sway of Francesco), and other assorted churches
In Florence, where we currently are hanging out in an eye-popping hotel suite on the Piazza del Signoria, We saw the monastic cell of Fra Girolamo Savaranola, the ascetic who overturned the rule of the Medicis, culminating in the "Bonfire of the Vanities". The bonfire was lighted not 100 yards from our hotel room.
Now, the promised lessons:
- Despite two lane freeways (tollroads) traffic flows because of lane discipline. If you are not passing someone you are in the right lane. Reached speeds on nearly 145 kph, (pushing 95 mph) on some of our drives.
- Never travel in Italy without a GPS. We didn't have one and I managed to get lost every day.
- The work hours here are amazing. Things open at, say 10:00 a.m. and close about three hours later for the two or two-and-a-halk hour siesta. When the shops reopen, they stay open until, oh, 8:00 p.m. And it all works.
- Jumping in for a quick espresso or long coffee (a cappuchino, for example) is an honored tradition. You belly up to the bar, and if it's an espresso you slug it down in one or two swallows, pay, and you are on your way.
Despite the statistics that show Italy with one of the lowest birthrates in Europe, all we have seen are strollers, pushed by doting parents or grandparents.
Lynn was nearly bowled over yesterday by one of the municipal policeman who raced around the corner to nab a string of Senegalese street merchants selling knock-off purses. The man who sounded the alarm to his fellows lost his entire inventory, about 20 purses, and the others got away with various amounts. An interesting symbiosis...as long as the wares aren't on display everyone politely ignores each other.
Might manage one more post before the return.
Arriverderci a tutti!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)