The Flavourist

The place reminded me of Willy Wonka's chocolate factory. Wonderful smells drifted through the hallways, men and women in neat white lab coats cheerfully went about their work, and hundreds of little glass bottles sat on laboratory tables and shelves. The bottles contained powerful but fragile flavor chemicals, shielded from light by the brown glass and the round plastic caps shut tight. The long chemical names on their little white labels were as mystifying to me as medieval Latin. They were the odd-sounding names of things that would be mixed and poured and turned into new substances, like magic potions.
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The beverage lab is full of brightly colored liquids in clear bottles. It comes up with the flavor for popular soft drinks, sport drinks, bottled teas, and wine coolers, for all-natural juice drinks, organic soy drinks, beers, and malt liquors.
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The small and elite group of scientists who create most of the flavor in most of the food now consumed in the United States are called flavorists. The draw upon a number of diciplines in their work: biology, psychology, physiology, and organic chemistry. A flavorist is a chemist with a trained nose and a poetic sensibility. Flavors are created by blending scores of different chemicals in tiny amounts, a process governed by scientific principles but demanding a fair amount of art. In an age when delicate aromas, subtle flavors, and microwave ovens do not easily coexist, the job of the flavorist is to conjure illusions about processed food and, in the words of one flavor company’s literature, to ensure "consumer likeability". The flavorists with whom I spoke were charming, cosmopolitan, and ironic. They were also discreet, in keeping with the dictates of their trade. They were the sort of scientists who not only enjoyed fine wine, but could also tell you the chemicals that gave each vintage its unique aroma.
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A firm called Red Arrow Products Company specializes in smoke flavors, which is added to barbecue sauces and processed meats. Red Arrow manufactures natural smoke flavor by charring sawdust and capturing the aroma chemicals released into the air. The smoke is captured in water and then bottled, so that other companies can sell food which seems to have been cooked over in fire.
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Grainger had bought a dozen small glass bottles from the lab. After he opened each bottle, I dipped a fragrance testing filter into it. The filters were long, white strips of paper designed to absorb aroma chemicals without producing off-notes. Before placing the strips of paper before my nose, I closed my eyes. Then I inhaled deeply, and one food after another was conjured from the glass bottles. I smelled fresh cherries, black olives, sautéed onions, and shrimp. Grainger’s most remarkable creation took me by surprise. After closing my eyes, I suddenly smelled a grilled hamburger. The aroma was uncanny, almost miraculous. It smelled like someone in the room was flipping burgers on a hot grill. But when I opened my eyes, there was just a narrow strip of white paper and a smiling flavorist.

-Eric Schlosser, Fast Food Nation

... en bok som er riktig trivelig lesning for oss som har boikottet McDonalds siden 80-tallet. Men nok om det. Jeg er jo godt igang med verdens beste tv-serie, men nå kunne jeg tenke meg å vinne en Oscar, og da må jeg lage en film. Og da føler jeg at flavouringbransjen kaller. Tror ikke det finnes noen film om denne bransjen, noe som er litt merkelig all den tid vi snakker om en altomfattende og omnipotent bransje som vår tid kommer til å bli husket for, en bransje og en teknologi ingen av oss kan unnslippe. Filmen skal hete The Flavourist, eller The Flavorist hvis amerikanerne insisterer og flaks for meg er det ingen andre filmer som heter det. Den skal minne litt om The Hudsucker Proxy, bare at den er helt annerledes og veldig now. Den skal ha mindre bruntoner, mer pastell og masse hvitt og en fryktelig mørk undertone. Jeg skal ansette Coen-brødrene for å fikse det. Jeg vet ikke helt hva den skal handle om, men det gjør ikke noe. Jeg vil bare ha an elite group of charming, cosmopolitan, ironic and discreet flavourists som svever rundt i åpne, lyse laboratorier og produserer sensoriske løgner som hele verden tror på. Foreløpig har jeg tre varianter av historien:

-love story: en snill, ærlig og ulykkelig mann innleder et forhold til the flavourist, en vinkjenner som fremstår som sjarmerende, verdensvant, diskret og ironisk, men som viser seg å være inkarnasjonen av flavouringbransjen, altså hun er patologisk løgner, kanskje psykopat og hele kjærlighetshistorien er et luftig bedrag. Den snille mannen dør av kjærlighetssorg.
-drama/gresk tragedie: en person, fortrinnsvis en armener eller en pontisk greker, som egentlig vil bli parfymør havner i flavouringbransjen, gjør suksess, men blir overmodig og det ender med en enorm matskandale der hundretusener, kanskje millioner mennesker dør av forgiftning pga en ørliten, men fatal feilbedømming i laboratoriet.
-thriller: en flavourist blir funnet drept i laboratoriet, saken har politiske implikasjoner og corporate business ønsker ikke oppmerksomhet om saken. Siden Bush-regimet er gjennomkorrupt og kristent legges det lokk på saken. Men en ærlig ateist i FBI sender inn en under cover-agent. Agenten løser saken, men blir forført av bransjen og innser at vi faktisk er det vi spiser og at samfunnet akkurat som maten er basert på løgn og bedrag og våger derfor ikke å avsløre morderen i frykt for at sannheten vil utløse ragnarok i ferdigmatbransjen og i det globale samfunnet som helhet, særlig USA.

Denne filmen skal selvsagt være AromRama. Og her snakker vi ikke om sånne lusne skrape og lukte-kort, men uncanny, almost miraculous smells som fyller kinosalen. Akkurat den biffen stoler jeg på at bransjen selv ordner.