Blog : research

2018 – the year so far

2018 – the year so far

We haven’t blogged for a while – we’ve been very busy on a wide range of great projects.  Here’s 5 cool things we’ve done this year (and we’re only half way through)

 

  We’ve done ethnographic work in Japan and Hong Kong – & compared the cultural differences across the two markets  –  that was interesting

 

   We’ve helped develop new mobile gaming concepts –  which was lots of fun

 

   We’ve undertaken quantitative research in Africa – which was enlightening

 

  We’ve run online communities with football fans – which was close to our hearts

 

  We helped relaunch a major global brand’s e-commerce strategy  – which was commercially illuminating

 

  Oh yes, and we’ve tackled GDPR as well, which was, necessary

 

We’ve done a lot more asides, travelled far and wide as always, and helped turn insight into action for our clients.

 

We live in interesting times, and we never stop learning

We’re Hiring

We’re Hiring

An exciting role for someone who is looking to develop their strategic and client consulting skills. You’ll be a key part of our dynamic team, working across sectors and clients on a wide variety of challenges across the globe.

[embeddoc url=”http://www.riverresearch.net/wp-content/uploads/2016/12/River-Research-Research-Manager-Job-Description-2016.doc” download=”all” viewer=”google”]

 

Chinese Cooking: A Cultural Tapestry

Chinese Cooking: A Cultural Tapestry

In 2012, ‘A Bite of China’, a CCTV documentary series about Chinese food and cooking was aired and quickly became a national hit.

While there is a plethora of documentaries on food produced around the world every year, the vast majority adopting a ‘technical’ perspective, this documentary series almost seems ‘out of place’ – and surely there are not enough facts and figures in it. The series focuses instead on the history, the culture and the people behind the food. There is neither a Michelin-star chef nor an artisan kitchen – it’s all about the simple food that ordinary families cook and eat at home, the authentic local cuisine.

The audience loved it – in fact, it was such a success that the production team made a second season, aired in 2014. ‘A Bite of China’ tells a story that resonates with everyone in the country – experiences repeated and passions shared.

In China, love for food is universal. This love bonds people together. A traditional way of greeting your neighbour in Beijing is ‘Have you eaten?’ instead of ‘How are you?’, as ‘How are you’ sounds far too formal to Chinese ears. On second thoughts, it also actually makes sense – what could be more important than food in a world of foodies? Nothing, really. If you have eaten, you’ll be alright. The answer can vary between a simple ‘yes’ and more details, such as ‘not yet, I’m on my way to buy some spring onions.’ By replying to the greeting in a casual manner, the two of you feel instantly much closer, as if you have reached a secret consensus on not talking about grand ideas or outlooks on life. You perceive yourselves as part of the same group, and an imagined community is born.

To the Chinese, cooking is also an adventure happening in a small space. To cook a good meal, the chef needs to stay focused, as timing is everything for most Chinese dishes. The ingredients and seasonings have to be added in the right order, at the right moment and be cooked for the right duration; otherwise, the taste would be different. In fact, timing can have an impact on the three essential factors of Chinese cooking, known as ‘colour, aroma, and taste’ (se, xiang, wei). It is the precise coordination of a series of delicate tasks under time pressure that makes the chef’s job challenging. A Chinese cook can never dream about leaving the turkey in the oven and setting the timer as ‘job done’.

As much as a daily chore, cooking is more than just getting something edible onto the dinner table; it’s about experimenting within a framework, exploring all the opportunities and making the most of your ingredients. I remember when I was at school, there was one day when my mum was out of town and my dad was working late. I was sleepy but hadn’t had anything for dinner. When my dad came back, he searched the fridge inside out and only found a cucumber. He walked into the kitchen with the cucumber in his hand and then closed the door. He came out of the kitchen 20 minutes later, holding a plate. The cucumber was wriggling on the plate, almost like a fish swimming in a pond. ‘Try it,’ he said. I had my doubts (sorry, Dad) but with the first bite, my taste buds got a startling wake-up call. The flavours of sweet, sour and spicy blended harmoniously together, forming a complex and stimulating taste. I finished it all, and saw my dad smiling at me. He said it was a dish my grandmother used to cook for him in the past. He could easily have just made me a cucumber salad!

To this day, I still remember how the light was cast on the table that night, how I stretched out the cucumber with chopsticks, and how the aroma of the dish lingered in the house for a while. Memories about food don’t fade easily.

These days, if I dine out in Chinese restaurants, I will sometimes order the same cucumber dish my dad cooked, just to give it a go (it’s called suo yi huang gua). They all have slightly different presentations and tastes, some better, some worse, but I think I’ve acquired the spirit of the dish. The continuously fine-tuned flavours cultivate the love for food, reinforce the memories about family, and inspire a new journey for the next generation. This is how culture gets passed on. After all, people themselves are merely cultural artefacts.

Planes, Planes and Researchers – Review of ‘Skyfaring’

Planes, Planes and Researchers – Review of ‘Skyfaring’

skyfaring feature

‘Skyfaring’ is a memoir and meditation on air travel and flight published earlier this year, written by working pilot, former consultant and New York Times contributor, Mark Vanhoenacker.

It instantly caught my attention as a title for obvious work reasons (I bought it with my company birthday voucher, no less!). We spend an awful lot of time on planes in our line of work and few won’t have found themselves straying into metaphysical ruminations on flying on the way back from a piece of research (gin helps, too).

Flight is, once one puts aside the mundaneness and routine, still remarkable, mind-boggling and – from what we see from high up – often stunningly beautiful (give or take that approach to Heathrow). The experience and the very idea of waking up in Moscow and going to bed in Chicago can still inspire child-like awe. I still feel this, so when I read that a pilot had written about it from his underreported angle, I wanted to know exactly what he made of it all.

The book is a strong proposition and Vanhoenacker has a gift for the metaphysical and the lyrical which will inevitably stand out among what I imagine is a straight-talking, overwhelmingly Alpha Male peer group (globally, only 3% of commercial pilots are women). I have pilots down as officer-like and ‘good in a crisis’ (code for ‘rarely does small talk’). They’re one profession where an upper class accent can still sound, oh, timelessly reassuring and plain right. Mark Vanhoenacker isn’t like that: he loves flying and he loves to talk about the spectacle and the wonder.

Alas, the book didn’t quite, er, take off for me. There are reams of wonderment and awe; the quiet beauty of the earth ever peeking through the cockpit window. But it felt light on many aspects I wanted to hear about. It reminded me of well-preserved copies of the National Geographic. Volcanoes and spectacle in brilliant double-page colour; not much about people. It’s dislocated and a little ‘removed’, almost. There’s something of the lone warrior about that pilot.

I entirely buy into (and now use) the writer’s notion of what he describes as ‘place lag’. This is the disorientating cousin of jet lag that makes us feel thrown by being picked up and placed in another part of the world, leaving the events of the morning seeming like they happened many months ago. I also totally felt the author’s awe in the miracle of flight. I used to be someone who hated flying and now feels unbelievably privileged to have lived in an age where Moscow is a bit of a drag and San Francisco can feel like a trip to Brighton. I don’t get scared anymore. We were at Alton Towers a few weeks ago and teenagers were fearlessly raising their arms on the rides (I learned that this means that they’re so brave they don’t need to hold on). I still feel like doing that on landing sometimes.

There are also plenty of enjoyable nuggets on how pilots and aviation map the planet – thinking not of countries but of nodes and corridors. There’s particular fun to be had in the names of the territories and ‘waypoints’ they use to navigate. Leaving Australia, you may pass through three ‘waypoints’ named WALTZ, INGMA and TILDA. The ‘dirty meat’ trend is being flexed around Kansas with waypoints called BARBQ, SPICY, SMOKE, RIBBS and BRISKT. (Disappointingly, there are no waypoints over England named DREADFL, OVER, BOILD and VEG).

But a book like this could have been more. I wanted to know about the weight of human responsibility a pilot bears. About the effect of 9/11 and air disasters on how pilots feel. The human cargo. A little more heart.

Then again, perhaps the whole point about pilots is that they do need to be that little bit… distant and clinical. It’s probably an advantage to all of us on board (including the nervous insomniac in 23C, sandwiched between the teething infant twins and the septuagenarian pilgrim). That pilot is in control. He loves his job. He’s so confident about his human cargo, he’s not even contemplating us. Sit back and rest easy, noble researcher-consultant. And write up your notes.