By now you're probably saying to yourself, I wish I knew Malcolm Lowe. Better yet, I wish I knew him when I was a child. I wish I could have played games with Malcolm. Othello or the Welcome Back, Kotter board game would have been swell activities for two saplings to engage while consuming each other's boundless energy and electric personalities.
I cannot fault you for these thoughts. However, as you well know, time, as far as we understand it, only moves in a progressive direction thereby suffocating any hope we have of enjoying one another's company as children. A sad thought indeed.
Perhaps in another dimension, dear friends!
This being the case, I can share with you a memory from my childhood with an aim to quiet your hunger for the days when my infectious manner was but a plump bud quivering in anticipation of an explosive radiant peel.
As tireless 10- and 8-year-olds, my younger sister and I spent countless hours at the family dining table hovering over college-ruled paper. A scattered pile of pencils, crayons and a single black permanent marker between us, we would furiously sketch and color shapes that spanned flowers, automobiles, residential homes and ninjas as subject matter. We focused on our work until our fingers ached, and then in a practice that was equal parts admiration and technique appropriation, we traded our pages.
"Look at that. I like what you did there."
"This is neat. What was the order here? Pencil then crayon then marker? Or was it just marker, crayon?"
Our mother would call us to the kitchen for butterscotch pudding and when we delayed she would appear over our shoulders and touch the tops of our heads. After a few moments of silence, she would remind us to slip a magazine between our work and the dining table so as to save the wooden top from our bearing down in areas that called for color saturation.
Then, she would turn back to the kitchen and wait for the moment when we could no longer deny the smell of warm butterscotch.
And so we come to it. Coloring. Such vibrance, such possibility. To contrast and to complement. Even the tan skin atop butterscotch pudding has an appeal to it. And now, I address those among you who are responsible for such color in the foods we eat. Shall I not consider you the Mark Rothko(s) of coloring consumables. None can deter me from doing so.
What you may have missed from the world of colorings...
New research suggests color -- the color of the plate and even the color of the tablecloth -- affects how much people serve themselves.
In the food processing industry, proper measurement of color can enhance quality and productivity; reduce operating costs; ensure consistency from batch to batch; and improve customer satisfaction.
Most research studies indicate children respond best to bright, primary colors, once they are able to distinguish colors other than black and white.
Anthocyanins are generally used in acidic products, like beverages, fruit preparations, frozen desserts and candies, as a primary color or a secondary color for shade adjustment or masking.
The coloring category of ingredients also is undergoing great change around the world.
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