Why Do Pirates Love Parrots?

by David Feldman

  How Do They Get the Paper Tag into Hershey Kisses? And Why Are They Called Kisses?

  The origins of Hershey Kisses lay more in technology than romance. Before Kisses, Hershey sold a molded candy called Sweetheart. It was cone-shaped and featured a kiss imprint on its base. No one knows for sure if Sweetheart inspired the Hershey Kiss. According to Pamela C. Whitenack, director of the Hershey Community Archives, and the source for most of our information in this chapter, the word “kiss” was already a common confectionary term for small candies when Hershey first marketed its Kiss in 1907.

  The key attribute of the Kiss was its distinctive shape, and the difficulty in its production was developing machinery that could extrude chocolate at the proper temperature, and then cool it quickly so that the whirl on top remained intact. Hershey wasn’t able to figure out how to wrap Kisses by machine at first—every Kiss was individually wrapped by hand, with a small tissue (containing the Hershey trademark) surrounding the chocolate and housed inside the foil exterior. In The Emperors of Chocolate: Inside the Secret World of Hershey and Mars, Jöel Glenn Brenner points out the problems with this method:

  To wrap a single Kiss was a delicate process: the tissues inserted in each one had a tendency to blow away, and were difficult to handle. A proper wrap required picking up the tissue, laying it on a foil, placing the Kiss on top and twisting the whole package together. But this process took too much time. Some workers were known to pick up a Kiss, lick the bottom, dab it on a pile of tissues, then deposit that on the foil and twist.

  Another weakness of the early Kisses was that there was no clear indication of the Hershey name on the exterior. Kisses were first sold in bulk at approximately thirty cents per pound. Hershey needed a way to make its confections distinctive and identified with its brand, and the solution came in the form of the little tag, which Hershey calls a “plume.” The plume was made possible by the creation of a suitable wrapping machine in 1921.

  Although the single-channel wrapping machine has since given way to a complex wonder that can wrap up to 1,300 Kisses in an hour, even the current machine essentially duplicates the process of the hand wrappers. The foil and the plume material are brought to the wrapping area in continuous rolls, and then threaded separately through the wrapping machine so that the plumes are placed on top of the foil. The two materials are then precision-cut to exact specifications, so that the plume pokes its head out of the foil. Naked pieces of chocolate are centered on the foil-plume combination and the wrappers are twisted before exiting the machine. Then the finished individual Kisses are sent to another station for inspection, weighing (there are ninety-five Kisses to a pound) and bagging. When multiple color foils are used, such as for holiday Kisses, the additional foils are blended together at this stage.

  Where did the name “Kiss” come from? No one seems to know. Pam Whitenack told Imponderables that although “kiss” was used to describe bite-sized candies in the nineteenth century, it didn’t stop after the introduction of the Hershey Kiss, either:

  I have a page from the Confectioner’s Journal (a trade publication from the turn of the twentieth century) that shows more than two dozen different kinds of confectionary kisses. Jolly Rancher Bites were marketed as “Kisses” prior to the company’s acquisition by Hershey Foods Corporation. The product name was changed to avoid confusion with Hershey’s older and more recognizable product.

  It was not until 1923 that Hershey obtained a registered trademark for Kisses, and that wasn’t for the name alone, but for the “basic shape, size, and configuration of Kisses, with its foil wrap.”

  Is it a coincidence, corporate espionage, or cosmic fate that in the same year that Hershey Kisses were introduced in the United States, 1907, Perugina launched its line of small chocolates, Baci, in Italy? The Italian chocolate also sports a similar but not identical swirl on top. Baci offers no plume, but includes a love note (in four languages) inside every chocolate. Oh, one other thing: Baci just happens to mean kisses in Italian.

  Submitted by Anthony Cusumano of Ashburn, Virginia.

  How Does the Vending Machine Know When It’s Sunday and That the Newspaper Is More Expensive?

  Never underestimate the intelligence of a newspaper vending machine. It knows darn well when you try to pay the price for a daily newspaper on Sunday. You can try to get away with inserting fifty cents when you owe two dollars, but our money is on the vending machine shutting you out.

  When you insert coins into the vending machine, the quarters don’t just drop into an empty vessel, but into a mechanical or electronic receptacle (“mech”). Even the more primitive machines can account for at least two different price structures—most commonly, to account for a more expensive Sunday paper. As Bob Camara, sales representative for K-Jack Engineering Company put it: “The coin mechanism is changed over to a Sunday setting.”

  The people who service the racks reset all the mechanisms to a Sunday setting to assure that bargain hunters are frustrated. Pamela Davis of Rak Systems, Inc., explains:

  There are mechanisms that have to be set manually each time the price changes. There are also electronic mechs that can be changed with the click of a button. Some of the electronic mechs can also collect data…what time and day papers are bought, what coins are used, etc., to help the newspapers know what their best markets are.

  A collection of Rak’s mechanisms are on display at http://www.raksystems.com/mechs.htm. There you’ll see that the preoccupations of Rak’s clients are few but persistent—multiple pricing options, ability to collect coins other than quarters, and the most nagging issue since the advent of the vending machine: rejection of slugs.

  Submitted by Jim Barton of Phoenix, Arizona.

  What Happens to Olives After the Oil Is Squeezed Out?

  Lucy Ricardo might have been able to crush grapes with her feet to make wine on I Love Lucy, but extracting olive oil from olives is a little trickier than juicing a grape or an orange. Olives don’t contain as much moisture content as grapes, and possess nasty, hard pits.

  The first important process in making olive oil, after separating the olives from dirt, leaves, and other contaminants, is pushing them through a mill or grinder, which turns them into a fine paste. Usually, the olive pits are left in before processing; the pits don’t have much effect on flavor, and contribute little to the volume of oil—but “destoning” olives adds another step, and expense, to the process.

  After the olives are mashed into paste form, the paste is mixed malaxation”) for about one half hour, which allows larger bubbles of oil to coalesce. The next stage is crucial—extracting the oil from the water in the paste, usually accomplished by one of two types of machine: a press or a centrifuge.

  Although the valuable oil has been extracted, and the olives have lost all of their original texture, olive oil producers don’t toss the waste product, which is called “pomace.” Paul Vossen, a University of California farm advisor, told Imponderables about the fate of the pomace:

  The pomace can be used for compost, or if the pit fragments are removed and it is somewhat dried, it can be fed to livestock. In Europe, North Africa, and the Middle East, the pomace is placed into solvent tanks and the remaining small amount of oil is removed; the solvent-extracted oil is refined and sold as pomace oil. The spent pomace is usually burned to generate heat and dry the pomace before it is solvent-extracted.

  The pomace olive oil is controversial in the trade. As we discussed in When Do Fish Sleep?, virgin and extra virgin olive oil are prized not only for their low acidity and fine taste, but for the lack of processing used to extract them. Purveyors of fine olive oils tend to look down on solvent-extracted pomace oil, especially because pomace can legally be labeled “olive oil.” Betty Pustarfi, owner of Strictly Olive Oil in Pebble Beach, California, refers to pomace olive oil as “industry denigrated oil” because it is used to:

  mix itself with the real stuff so it can be sold to consumers as premium, or most frequently, sold or used to be blende
d with the real stuff for use in the food service or production industry. Pomace olive oil is a lubricant, not a condiment, though it has most of the health values of the real stuff and is an accepted carrier for the real stuff as long as it is so labeled.

  Submitted by Rene Triliad, via the Internet.

  For more information about the making of olive oil, visit the Olive Oil Source Web site at: http://www.oliveoilsource.com/making_ olive_oil.htm.

  Do Ostriches Swim?

  We all know that ostriches don’t really bury their heads in the sand. But will they dunk their bodies into the water? We vaguely remembered Charles Darwin writing about swimming ostriches, and we found the passage that we remembered in The Voyage of the Beagle. The scientist was traveling through northern Patagonia and discussed the South American ostriches he observed, but the description was a little more elusive than remembered:

  at Bahia Bianca I have repeatedly seen three or four come down at low water to the extensive mud-banks which are then dry, for the sake, as the Gauchos say, of feeding on small fish…. It is not generally known that ostriches take to the water. Mr. King informs me that at the Bay of San Blas, and at Port Valdes in Patagonia, he saw these birds swimming several times from island to island. They ran into the water both when driven down a point, and likewise of their own accord when not frightened: the distance crossed was about two hundred yards. When swimming, very little of their bodies appear above water, their necks are extended a little forward, and their progress is slow.

  So far, Darwin’s account is second hand, it would seem. But eventually, he recounts:

  On two occasions I saw some ostriches swimming across the Santa Cruz river, where its course was about four hundred yards wide, and the stream rapid.

  Case closed? When we conducted some further research, we were taken aback to read that ostriches are native only to the savannas and deserts of central and southern Africa. The “South American ostriches” that Darwin observed were not ostriches at all, but close relatives, the rhea (they belong to the same order as ostriches, Struthioniformes, but a different species). Rheas look similar to ostriches but with more water sources available to them than ostriches in the desert, might they have abilities in the water that ostriches don’t have?

  The first person to respond to our query was Prof. Gerhard H. Verdoorn, director of BirdLife South Africa, who wrote:

  I have no evidence from any literature that ostriches can swim! So the answer from my side is no! I guess that they will have to swim if their area becomes inundated—otherwise, no records of them swimming.

  Next in our queue was an e-mail from Steve Warrington, of Ostrich.com:

  Yes, ostriches can swim—in their natural desert surroundings they swim a lot—usually to cool and clean themselves.

  A South African ostrich farmer, Tania Lategan from Cango Ostrich Farm outside of Oudtshoorn, South Africa, responded matter of factly, “Yes, an ostrich does swim to cool its body off.” We asked her if her ostriches swim on a regular basis, and she said: “Yes, if they do have access to water and it is hot, it will occur every day.”

  But then another source, Pierre duP Fourie, proprietor of the Baron’s Palace Hotel, just miles from Cango Farm, reports:

  When forced into a flooded river, they float in the water to safety, but do not go into water to cool down or swim.

  But veterinarian Carole Price, president of the American Ostrich Association, counters with:

  Yes, ostrich swim. In fact, they love water.

  So here we are answering this Imponderable with a qualified yes: Ostriches certainly can swim, but perhaps reluctantly so. We were able to find one image of an ostrich swimming at http://www.marijuana.org/pictures6-14-99/swimingostrich.JPG, but we’re not sure what role marijuana played in the proceedings!

  Submitted by Galen Musbach of Greeneville, Tennessee.

  When You Switch Chairs with Someone, Why Does the Seat Sometimes Feel Warm?

  This is a rare example of an Imponderable posed in front of us at the moment it was born. A pal, Chris McCann, was playing West in a duplicate bridge tournament. In duplicate bridge, the North-South players remain seated at the same table, while East-West players move from table to table after playing a few hands. When Chris came to our table, he noted that the wooden chair he sat in felt very warm.

  We have had the same experience, so for years we’ve done some empirical research on this Imponderable. We also consulted with two science types, both of whom hold advanced degrees from accredited universities, and because they have a reputation to protect, didn’t rush to have us quote them by name. They confirmed our impressions that this is a matter of simple, thermal conductivity: When two surfaces press against each other, there is an exchange of heat between them. But what determines the degree of heat transfer?

  1.Time and Temperature

  Although the core temperature in our body is approximately98.6 degrees Fahrenheit, the temperature of our skin is lower, usually a little above 90 degrees. Under normal circumstances, we’re sitting in rooms that are much cooler. So if a chair has been previously occupied, the former occupant, let’s call him “Ex,” is going to warm a chair to a higher temperature than the ambient air in the room.

  When we are first seated in a restaurant, though, we are unlikely to perceive our chair as warm, because the table has been unoccupied long enough for the chair to cool off to the room temperature. At the bridge tournament, the new occupant, let’s call him “Chris,” might be in Ex’s seat within seconds of Ex leaving, allowing plenty of time to bask in the warmth left behind.

  2. Length

  The longer Chris has been standing up, exposed to the 70-degree room, the more likely he’s going to feel that the chair that Ex is vacating will be warm. The longer Ex has sat in the chair, the warmer that chair will be, as more of Ex’s heat will be transferred to the chair. But the longer Chris sits in the chair, the less he is likely to continue perceiving the chair as warm, as the contrast in temperature peaks upon first contact.

  3. Width

  There is no getting around it. There is a direct correlation between the mass of the buttocks region and how much heat Ex is able to transfer from his booty to the seat. The wider the rear, the tighter the seal between the skin (with its higher temperature) and the surface of the chair is accomplished, and the more heat is transferred. If Ex filled out the seat before him, even a slimmer Chris is sure to hit a “hot spot.” There are plenty of bridge players with ample rears, and in our experience they tend to leave the gift of warm seats when they move on to the next table.

  4. Surface

  What kind of clothing are Ex and Chris wearing? The thinner the clothing, the more easily heat can be transferred to or felt from the chair. Probably even more important is the composition of the chair. Metal is a great conductor. Ever sit on an aluminum chair in shorts in an air-conditioned room in the summer? The chair will feel much, much cooler than a chair with fabric on the seat and backrest, because the metal chair leeches heat out of our bodies quickly. Textiles are poor conductors of heat, as they leave plenty of room for air to be trapped inside, and stationary air doesn’t promote heat transfer. This is why bulky sweaters are effective in the winter—the trapped air in the material helps to insulate you from the cold. Wooden chairs are in between fabric and metal, but closer to fabric in conductivity.

  5. Psychology

  No doubt our mind plays tricks on us. If you expect a metal chair to be cold, and the Ex who preceded you, with ample rump covering the whole seat, has sat in it for a long time, the chair might feel surprisingly warm, even though in actuality its surface temperature is lower than the fabric chair alongside it. And perhaps, if you expect a warm seat, it will feel warmer than it really is.

  But if you want to insure a warm seat, watch for the big guy with the wide booty and the thin clothes. As soon as he leaves, hasten thee to that chair.

  Submitted by Christopher McCann of Brooklyn, New York, who exhibits low butt mass.

 
What Accounts for the Different Shapes of Cheeses? Why Is Cheddar Rectangular While Brie and Provolone Are Round?

  Ever since we inquired into the origins of why there are ten hot dogs in a package and eight hot-dog buns (even we don’t drop enough franks off the grill to justify the shortfall), we’ve been wary of finding any logic in the world of food packaging. We were a little surprised at how many people within the cheese and dairy industry couldn’t answer this Imponderable. But luckily we found two experts who could: David Brown, senior extension associate at Cornell University’s food science department, and Dean Sommer, a cheese technologist at the Wisconsin Center for Dairy Research in Madison, Wisconsin.

  Traditionally, most cheeses were made in round form, and this includes most of the cheeses we find now in rectangular form, such as Cheddar and Swiss. The classic Cheddar was made in forty-pound wheels, and in England, most Cheddars still are round. The Swiss often created much bigger wheels, as heavy as 200 to 220 pounds. Sommer points out that even in the United States, you can see vestiges of these traditions in half-round Cheddar and in colby longhorns or Cheddar longhorns. For these popular cheeses, the shape has no influence on its flavor or texture. If you look at recipes for making cheese, the shape of the finished product is usually optional.