Playing gooseberry

In the 1950s, the world was enjoying a post-war new industrialism, especially in food.

Countries were racing to increase production aided by massive state subsidy.

Farmers were looking for new crops all the time.

Macaque peaches, a small, sweet, soft furry skinned fruit had been recorded in China since the 12th century, but were almost unknown elsewhere in the world.

Early seed exporter ‘nurserymen’ in the early 20th century  would transport varieties to new world farmers.

One such new world was New Zealand, where these little fruits grew well.

They became known as 'Chinese gooseberries', or ‘melonettes’.

One such Farmer Frieda Caplan spotted they were popular with American Servicemen stationed in New Zealand in World War II.







Frieda decided to appeal to the market and renamed the fruit 'Kiwifruit'.

Overnight, the world adopted this new name, and overnight, it casually forgot 800 years of history.

Kiwifruits were now from New Zealand.

By rebranding the product, New Zealand successfully gave it more market appeal.

New Zealand was the new world, exciting, free of old stereotypes and bigoted associations.

Nobody would buy an obscure Chinese fruit, but they would buy an exciting new-world fruit, which they associated with like a cute furry bird.

The same thing happens in restaurants.

Open a greasy spoon cafe and sell treacle sponge pudding and custard, you’ll probably get one or two customers. 

Open a grey toned gastropub, distress and tile walls like an old municipal baths, bring in some mismatched crockery and furniture, print your menus on recycled paper and sell ‘authentically British, gloriously decedent treacle sponge pudding and custard’ by the bowlful.

When we’re told it’s authenticity they want, people are actually responding to packaging.

Today, China is the biggest producer of Kiwifruit.

Second is Italy.

Third is New Zealand.