When Ford Motor Co. wanted to make the 2013 Ford Escape more eco-friendly, didn't it make perfect sense to turn to a plant in Greencastle, a city named Indiana's Green City of the Year three times?
Perhaps the city's track record had nothing to do with the local International Automotive Components plant producing the lightweight, eco-friendly door bolsters for the new Escapes.
In truth, Greencastle is IAC's best-equipped plant for the new project.
"Our Greencastle plant is equipped with the necessary machinery designed for handling natural material components," said IAC Executive Director of Marketing and Communications Dave Ladd. "Also, Greencastle is one of our high-volume door panel producers. So they have the equipment and the experience that made them the best choice for producing this particular product."
However, the plant's involvement in the project should certainly be exciting to the residents who have been a part of Greencastle's sustainability initiatives in recent years.
Kenaf, a tropical plant related to cotton and okra plants, is being used to replace oil-based materials in the doors of the new Escape. The use of kenaf in the door bolsters should reduce the use of petroleum in two ways.
On the manufacturing end, it is anticipated to offset the use 300,000 pounds of oil-based resin annually in North America.
"Oil-based resins, for many reasons, are something we like to reduce," Ladd said. "We want to be less dependent on oil. Oil is not good for the environment. Natural materials are made from renewable resources, unlike oil. Kenaf and many of the others we are using in the auto industry do not compete with food sources, so that's not an issue."
Kenaf also reduces the weight of the bolsters by 25 percent, which in turn improves fuel economy.
"Right now lightweight is one of the biggest buzzwords in the auto industry because lightweight equals fuel efficiency. Anything we can do in any component of the vehicle to reduce weight is a big, big plus," Ladd said.
The other important element of kenaf is its strength. Because the bolster is part of the door, it must withstand stringent federal guidelines for side-impact crashes. At the end of a long process of testing several natural materials, IAC and Ford found kenaf to be the strongest material that also met their other guidelines.
"Kenaf was the one natural material that really fit the strength specifications that are required," Ladd said. "In federal requirements for side-impact crashes, the doors are a very important part."
One key to the economics of producing the door bolsters is they do not represent a major change for the production process at the Greencastle plant. The line that will produce the bolsters will function essentially the same way it has previously.
"Greencastle happens to be our one plant in North America that has injection-molding machinery that is specially equipped for natural materials. The previous materials they would have used in this machinery was wood stock," Ladd said.
He added that building an entirely new line would have made the project cost-prohibitive.
"The machinery we have there is specially modified for handling and heating natural materials so they are molded correctly," Ladd said. "Otherwise, the process is pretty much the same."
The new Escape, which will be available to customers this spring, features several eco-friendly components in addition to the kenaf inside the doors.
Materials that are recycled, renewable and that reduce impact on the environment include soy foam in the seats and head restraints; plastic bottles and other post-consumer and post-industrial materials in the carpeting; climate control gaskets made from recycled tires; and more than 10 pounds of scrap cotton from the making of denim jeans.
"Kenaf and the other renewable materials in the Escape have made the vehicle more environmentally friendly and fuel efficient," said Laura Sinclair, materials engineer for Escape.
Wide use of more environmentally friendly, recycled and recyclable materials complements the fuel economy of the Ford Escape, further boosting the vehicle's environmentally responsible credentials. The new Escape meets the USCAR Vehicle Recycling Partnership goal that 85 percent of the vehicle be recyclable.
2012年2月9日星期四
India’s chronic water shortages mean growth for rotomoulders
India’s persistent water shortages could mean rapid growth for its rotational moulding industry, with one new study saying spending on new water-related projects will help the industry shrug off the worldwide economic slowdown and grow 12% a year over the next five years.
The study, from Indian resin maker Reliance Industries, suggests that the population growth in the world’s second-most populous country will continue to stress its water supplies, putting it close to critical levels of water scarcity by 2025.
While that’s a huge societal challenge, rotomoulding executives from India and around the world meeting at a recent conference in New Delhi looked at the business opportunities it presents.
“We believe underground water storage could provide the next big breakthrough, and this could be the catalyst for the next phase of growth for this industry,” said Puneet Madan, business head of polyethylenes for Reliance, who delivered the study. “Water storage will provide significant demand for this industry because of the needs in India.”
India’s rotomoulding industry is currently the world’s second-largest, after the US, Reliance estimates.
It grew more than 10% a year between 2006 and 2011, driven by rising consumer demand, although 2011 saw a marked drop to about 3% growth amid problems in both the world economy and India’s real estate market, Madan said.
But Reliance and other industry executives at the Society of Asian Rotomoulders conference, held 29-31 January in New Delhi, said they believe the underlying demand from India’s development will continue to push rapid growth and any slowdown will be short-lived.
Reliance, citing figures from Houston-based consulting firm Chemical Market Associates Inc., said India’s rotomoulding sector is projected to grow from 260 million pounds of plastic consumption last year to 474 million pounds in 2016.
Indian rotomoulders added 88 million pounds of capacity in both 2010 and 2011, in anticipation of growth in consumption, Reliance said.
The United States, by comparison, will grow much more slowly, from 653 million pounds to 697 million pounds of consumption in the same period, after being flat from 2006 to 2011. And the third-largest market, China, will grow from 243 million pounds to 403 million pounds between 2011 and 2016.
Statistics make the scope of India’s water crisis clear. Reliance said the country had more than 528,000 gallons of water available per person annually in 1991, but by 2001 that had dipped to just below that number and reached the “water stress line.”
By 2025, water availability will fall to about 343,000 gallons per person, close to the more severe “water scarcity level” of about 291,000 gallons a person.
By 2050, when India’s population hits a projected 1.66 billion from its current 1.22 billion, it will officially reach “water scarcity,” Reliance said. In 1951, by comparison, India had more than 1.3 million gallons of water available annually per person.
“What can we all do given this statistic that is staring us in the face,” Madan asked the conference attendees.
In an interview after his speech, he said many Indian homes only have running water part of the day, so they buy rotomoulded tanks to collect water and store it for use later.
Indian rotomoulders have historically specialized in above-ground tanks for that market, and that application still accounts for about 70% of their production, much higher than in many other countries.
But the industry is looking to modernize and move away from those tanks, which are relatively simple to manufacture, and diversify into other more complicated products like underground tanks and new markets like automotive and agriculture.
To do that, the biggest challenge they face is technology, some participants said.
“The rotomoulders need to upgrade themselves to the latest technology, processes and systems,” said Venkit Mahadevan, Mumbai-based national sales manager for American materials supplier A. Schulman Plastics India and its Ico Polymers division.
Mukesh Ambani, president of the Society of Asian Rotomoulders in New Delhi and managing director of Mumbai-based rotomoulder Infra Industries, said there is significant interest from foreign rotomoulders to invest in India’s sector. There are opportunities for both sides, with Indian firms needing technology, he said.
One new partnership was announced at the conference. Italian mould maker Roto Moulds srl announced a technology transfer and sales partnership with mould maker and machinery manufacturer M. Plast (India).
One of the reasons for the tie-up, M. Plast executives said, was because the Italian firm had a lot of experience in the underground water storage tank market.
The study, from Indian resin maker Reliance Industries, suggests that the population growth in the world’s second-most populous country will continue to stress its water supplies, putting it close to critical levels of water scarcity by 2025.
While that’s a huge societal challenge, rotomoulding executives from India and around the world meeting at a recent conference in New Delhi looked at the business opportunities it presents.
“We believe underground water storage could provide the next big breakthrough, and this could be the catalyst for the next phase of growth for this industry,” said Puneet Madan, business head of polyethylenes for Reliance, who delivered the study. “Water storage will provide significant demand for this industry because of the needs in India.”
India’s rotomoulding industry is currently the world’s second-largest, after the US, Reliance estimates.
It grew more than 10% a year between 2006 and 2011, driven by rising consumer demand, although 2011 saw a marked drop to about 3% growth amid problems in both the world economy and India’s real estate market, Madan said.
But Reliance and other industry executives at the Society of Asian Rotomoulders conference, held 29-31 January in New Delhi, said they believe the underlying demand from India’s development will continue to push rapid growth and any slowdown will be short-lived.
Reliance, citing figures from Houston-based consulting firm Chemical Market Associates Inc., said India’s rotomoulding sector is projected to grow from 260 million pounds of plastic consumption last year to 474 million pounds in 2016.
Indian rotomoulders added 88 million pounds of capacity in both 2010 and 2011, in anticipation of growth in consumption, Reliance said.
The United States, by comparison, will grow much more slowly, from 653 million pounds to 697 million pounds of consumption in the same period, after being flat from 2006 to 2011. And the third-largest market, China, will grow from 243 million pounds to 403 million pounds between 2011 and 2016.
Statistics make the scope of India’s water crisis clear. Reliance said the country had more than 528,000 gallons of water available per person annually in 1991, but by 2001 that had dipped to just below that number and reached the “water stress line.”
By 2025, water availability will fall to about 343,000 gallons per person, close to the more severe “water scarcity level” of about 291,000 gallons a person.
By 2050, when India’s population hits a projected 1.66 billion from its current 1.22 billion, it will officially reach “water scarcity,” Reliance said. In 1951, by comparison, India had more than 1.3 million gallons of water available annually per person.
“What can we all do given this statistic that is staring us in the face,” Madan asked the conference attendees.
In an interview after his speech, he said many Indian homes only have running water part of the day, so they buy rotomoulded tanks to collect water and store it for use later.
Indian rotomoulders have historically specialized in above-ground tanks for that market, and that application still accounts for about 70% of their production, much higher than in many other countries.
But the industry is looking to modernize and move away from those tanks, which are relatively simple to manufacture, and diversify into other more complicated products like underground tanks and new markets like automotive and agriculture.
To do that, the biggest challenge they face is technology, some participants said.
“The rotomoulders need to upgrade themselves to the latest technology, processes and systems,” said Venkit Mahadevan, Mumbai-based national sales manager for American materials supplier A. Schulman Plastics India and its Ico Polymers division.
Mukesh Ambani, president of the Society of Asian Rotomoulders in New Delhi and managing director of Mumbai-based rotomoulder Infra Industries, said there is significant interest from foreign rotomoulders to invest in India’s sector. There are opportunities for both sides, with Indian firms needing technology, he said.
One new partnership was announced at the conference. Italian mould maker Roto Moulds srl announced a technology transfer and sales partnership with mould maker and machinery manufacturer M. Plast (India).
One of the reasons for the tie-up, M. Plast executives said, was because the Italian firm had a lot of experience in the underground water storage tank market.
2012年2月7日星期二
Industrial Plastics Co. considering moving 140 jobs to Kentucky
Industrial Plastics Co. in Valley City is considering closing its plastic injection molding facility and moving about 140 jobs to Kentucky, a company official said Tuesday.
The company and the Workers United union began to meet Monday to discuss the possibility of a move. Industrial Plastics Co. is part of MTD, which makes lawn mowers and other equipment, including the Yard-Man brand.
Mark Milko, the area director for Workers United, said he will not comment about the discussions until both sides meet again, which is scheduled for later this week.
A move would not affect the roughly 500 jobs at the MTD headquarters and customer call center, also in Valley City, in Medina County, said Kristee Mahler, director of organizational development.
If the facility moves, she said, it would take place before the end of the year. The plan would be to shift the work to a company plant in Leitchfield, Kentucky. The Valley City facility would be sold.
"The existing facility in Leitchfield has excess capacity, which is one of the prime drivers in the movement of work there," Mahler said. "They have the available square footage to pretty much pick up what we have in this facility, and put it in there. And they still have room to grow."
Mahler said the company could save money by moving operations to Kentucky, where the company makes other product.
"We're consistently looking for opportunities to improve efficiencies to save costs and eliminate excess capacity and produce significant cost savings," she said.
The company and the Workers United union began to meet Monday to discuss the possibility of a move. Industrial Plastics Co. is part of MTD, which makes lawn mowers and other equipment, including the Yard-Man brand.
Mark Milko, the area director for Workers United, said he will not comment about the discussions until both sides meet again, which is scheduled for later this week.
A move would not affect the roughly 500 jobs at the MTD headquarters and customer call center, also in Valley City, in Medina County, said Kristee Mahler, director of organizational development.
If the facility moves, she said, it would take place before the end of the year. The plan would be to shift the work to a company plant in Leitchfield, Kentucky. The Valley City facility would be sold.
"The existing facility in Leitchfield has excess capacity, which is one of the prime drivers in the movement of work there," Mahler said. "They have the available square footage to pretty much pick up what we have in this facility, and put it in there. And they still have room to grow."
Mahler said the company could save money by moving operations to Kentucky, where the company makes other product.
"We're consistently looking for opportunities to improve efficiencies to save costs and eliminate excess capacity and produce significant cost savings," she said.
2012年2月5日星期日
Autism: a puzzling disorder
LOS ANGELES When autism researchers arrived at Norristown State Hospital near Philadelphia a few years ago, they found a 63-year-old man who rambled on about Elvis Presley, compulsively rocked in his chair and patted the corridor walls.
Ben Perrick, a resident of the psychiatric institution for most of his life, displayed what the University of Pennsylvania researchers considered classic symptoms of autism. His chart, however, said he was schizophrenic and mentally retarded.
Delving into the file, the researchers learned that as a 10-year-old, Perrick had seen Dr. Leo Kanner, the psychiatrist who discovered autism. In his notes from 1954, Kanner described Perrick as “a child who is self centered, withdrawn, and unable to relate to other people,” and recommended that he be committed.
Later, other doctors relabelled Perrick. The autism diagnosis was forgotten.
The researchers found 13 other patients with unrecognized autism in the Norristown hospital — about 10 per cent of the residents they evaluated. It was a sign of how medical standards and social attitudes toward the disorder have shifted.
Over the last two decades, estimates of the autism rate in children in the U.S. and Canada have climbed twentyfold. Many scientists believe the increase has been driven largely by an expanded definition of the disorder and more vigorous efforts to identify it.
Scientists are just beginning to find cases that were overlooked or called something else in an earlier era. If their research shows that autism has always been present at roughly the same rate as today, it could ease worries that an epidemic is on the loose.
By looking into the past, scientists also hope to deepen their understanding of how autism unfolds over a lifetime.
What happened to all the people who never got diagnosed? Where are they?
Like Perrick, who died in 2009, some spent their lives in institutions. Mental hospitals have largely been emptied over the last four decades, but the remaining population in the U.S. probably includes about 5,000 people with undiagnosed autism, said David Mandell, a psychiatric epidemiologist who led the Norristown study.
Many more are thought to be in prisons, homeless shelters and wherever else social misfits are clustered.
But evidence suggests the vast majority are not segregated from society — they are hiding in plain sight. Most probably never will be identified, but a picture of their lives is starting to emerge from those who have been.
They live in households, sometimes alone, sometimes with the support of their parents, sometimes even with spouses. Many were bullied as children and still struggle to connect with others. Some were able to find jobs that fit their strengths and partners who understand them.
If modern estimates of autism rates apply to past generations, about two million U.S. adults and more than 220,000 adult Canadians have various forms of it — and society has long absorbed the emotional and financial toll, mostly without realizing it.
Stats the same for adultsThe search for the missing millions is just beginning.
The only study to look for autistic adults in a national population was conducted in Britain and published in 2009. Investigators interviewed 7,461 adults selected as a representative sample of the country and conducted 618 intensive evaluations.
The conclusion: one per cent of people living in British households had some form of autism, roughly the same rate the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention estimates for children in America today.
The British study found it didn’t matter whether the adults were in their 20s or their 80s. The rate of autism was the same for both groups.
“That would seem to imply the incidence has not changed very much,” said Dr. Terry Brugha, a professor of psychiatry at the University of Leicester who led the study. He added the findings were not conclusive and more research is needed.
None of the adults included in the study had an existing diagnosis of autism, though in a few instances relatives told researchers they had suspected it.
In one case, a man said he had asked his doctor about the possibility but was told that a diagnosis in middle age would be useless. After all, he had got this far without it.
Still, as more children are being diagnosed with autism, more adults are wondering if they have it, too.
Karl Wittig, a retired engineer from New York, had always questioned why so few social skills came naturally to him.
A diary his mother kept in the 1950s suggests he was not an ordinary child. “This last few weeks, he doesn’t pile the blocks any more,” she wrote when he was two. “He likes to put one next to the other, making a big row of 48.”
Two years later, he talked non-stop about wires, switches, light bulbs and Thomas Edison.
Wittig went on to earn undergraduate and master’s degrees from Cornell University and New York University in physics, electrical engineering and computer science. In the research laboratories where he worked, he felt he fit in.
“I went into a field full of eccentric people,” Witting recalled. “I was just another eccentric person.”
Wittig said he eventually figured out how to behave in social situations — to refrain from correcting other people’s mistakes, flaunting his math abilities or rambling on about his own interests. He married a former nun 18 years his senior. She died of cancer after two decades together. Wittig described the marriage as happy.
Ben Perrick, a resident of the psychiatric institution for most of his life, displayed what the University of Pennsylvania researchers considered classic symptoms of autism. His chart, however, said he was schizophrenic and mentally retarded.
Delving into the file, the researchers learned that as a 10-year-old, Perrick had seen Dr. Leo Kanner, the psychiatrist who discovered autism. In his notes from 1954, Kanner described Perrick as “a child who is self centered, withdrawn, and unable to relate to other people,” and recommended that he be committed.
Later, other doctors relabelled Perrick. The autism diagnosis was forgotten.
The researchers found 13 other patients with unrecognized autism in the Norristown hospital — about 10 per cent of the residents they evaluated. It was a sign of how medical standards and social attitudes toward the disorder have shifted.
Over the last two decades, estimates of the autism rate in children in the U.S. and Canada have climbed twentyfold. Many scientists believe the increase has been driven largely by an expanded definition of the disorder and more vigorous efforts to identify it.
Scientists are just beginning to find cases that were overlooked or called something else in an earlier era. If their research shows that autism has always been present at roughly the same rate as today, it could ease worries that an epidemic is on the loose.
By looking into the past, scientists also hope to deepen their understanding of how autism unfolds over a lifetime.
What happened to all the people who never got diagnosed? Where are they?
Like Perrick, who died in 2009, some spent their lives in institutions. Mental hospitals have largely been emptied over the last four decades, but the remaining population in the U.S. probably includes about 5,000 people with undiagnosed autism, said David Mandell, a psychiatric epidemiologist who led the Norristown study.
Many more are thought to be in prisons, homeless shelters and wherever else social misfits are clustered.
But evidence suggests the vast majority are not segregated from society — they are hiding in plain sight. Most probably never will be identified, but a picture of their lives is starting to emerge from those who have been.
They live in households, sometimes alone, sometimes with the support of their parents, sometimes even with spouses. Many were bullied as children and still struggle to connect with others. Some were able to find jobs that fit their strengths and partners who understand them.
If modern estimates of autism rates apply to past generations, about two million U.S. adults and more than 220,000 adult Canadians have various forms of it — and society has long absorbed the emotional and financial toll, mostly without realizing it.
Stats the same for adultsThe search for the missing millions is just beginning.
The only study to look for autistic adults in a national population was conducted in Britain and published in 2009. Investigators interviewed 7,461 adults selected as a representative sample of the country and conducted 618 intensive evaluations.
The conclusion: one per cent of people living in British households had some form of autism, roughly the same rate the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention estimates for children in America today.
The British study found it didn’t matter whether the adults were in their 20s or their 80s. The rate of autism was the same for both groups.
“That would seem to imply the incidence has not changed very much,” said Dr. Terry Brugha, a professor of psychiatry at the University of Leicester who led the study. He added the findings were not conclusive and more research is needed.
None of the adults included in the study had an existing diagnosis of autism, though in a few instances relatives told researchers they had suspected it.
In one case, a man said he had asked his doctor about the possibility but was told that a diagnosis in middle age would be useless. After all, he had got this far without it.
Still, as more children are being diagnosed with autism, more adults are wondering if they have it, too.
Karl Wittig, a retired engineer from New York, had always questioned why so few social skills came naturally to him.
A diary his mother kept in the 1950s suggests he was not an ordinary child. “This last few weeks, he doesn’t pile the blocks any more,” she wrote when he was two. “He likes to put one next to the other, making a big row of 48.”
Two years later, he talked non-stop about wires, switches, light bulbs and Thomas Edison.
Wittig went on to earn undergraduate and master’s degrees from Cornell University and New York University in physics, electrical engineering and computer science. In the research laboratories where he worked, he felt he fit in.
“I went into a field full of eccentric people,” Witting recalled. “I was just another eccentric person.”
Wittig said he eventually figured out how to behave in social situations — to refrain from correcting other people’s mistakes, flaunting his math abilities or rambling on about his own interests. He married a former nun 18 years his senior. She died of cancer after two decades together. Wittig described the marriage as happy.
2011年12月19日星期一
A most atypical Israeli business
Israel is known for its software prowess in high technology – the “new” tech where programmers lead the way into a clean, bright future full of new innovations and inventions. “Old tech,” the kind you find in factories and assembly plants, isn’t really associated with Israel; the country was established well after the end of the Industrial Revolution, and factories were never a major feature of the Israeli workplace.
With all that, though, an Israeli company is deeply involved in industrial production, developing software to create molds, dies and machines.
Good software is absolutely necessary to build plastic-injection molds, for example, which can have up to 5,000 parts, including pins, screws and plates.
Usually one person designs the product, but another person – often in another company – designs the molds for each part. It’s up to the software to make sure that everyone follows the same design plan; the more precise the design program, the more precise the final product will come out.
Cimatron, indeed, is an anomaly in the Israeli hi-tech world, concentrating on applications and technology for what is generally thought to be “low-tech” purposes, Cimatron CEO Dan Haran says. “But it’s not really low-tech because the design of almost everything today is very sophisticated.”
It’s not Internet-type hi-tech, but it’s hi-tech in the sense that the design and execution of almost all manufacturing processes today is very advanced and sophisticated. Call it “post-industrial,” he says.
Take, for example, a car dashboard, an area that Cimatron has quite a lot of experience in.
“There are hundreds of parts that go into making a dashboard, and they all have to be precisely designed and built, so that they can work together,” Haran says. “Most of the parts are made out of plastic and metal, and for each part to work together, you need precise design, and that’s based on the kind of software we produce.”
There are few businesses that are more all-encompassing than mold and die design, and Cimatron’s technology is being used by companies large and small from very diverse backgrounds and in almost any manufacturing capacity you can imagine.
For example, one company using Cimatron’s CAD/CAM system is China’s Haier Mould, a subsidiary of the Haier Group, which controls nearly 35 percent of China’s household appliance market (imagine how many coffee makers that is!) and boasts a sales network spanning 31 countries.
With an annual production capacity of 1,200 standard mold sets and capability to build molds over 40 tons, Haier Mould services global companies such as Ford, Toyota, Volkswagen, Mitsubishi, Honda, Nissan, Samsung, LG, Canon and Sanyo.
Vaupell, another Cimatron customer, makes molded products and assemblies for medical, defense, aerospace, electronics and transportation industries. Here, too, precision is essential; the parts that US-based Vaupell makes need to be just so – sometimes to the thousandth of a centimeter – to fulfill engineering and legal requirements.
UK-based DLS Plastics makes all sorts of plastic caps, covers and connectors for use in plumbing and water systems.
Once again, if the connection is off by even a little, things just won’t screw together properly, resulting in wastewater flooding homes and neighborhoods.
Once again, its Cimatron to the rescue, with tools that cut down training time and automate the design process.
You can’t get more industrial than little plastic connectors to keep water flowing through pipes. That an Israeli company has been able to compete with the top companies in the world working in CAD/CAM design for manufacturing is an untold Israeli hi-tech success story. And the same applies to far more sophisticated products, Haran says.
“Blades and turbines for many planes, for example, are made out of titanium and other metals and cannot be made with a die, but are made one at a time,” he says, and Cimatron has that covered as well.
While China has seemingly become the “world’s factory,” there are many higher-end items that cannot be made there, and there is plenty of manufacturing going on in Europe and the US, he says, and it is in there – among the mold makers, die makers, parts manufacturers or subcontractors – where Cimatron’s sophisticated software is most appreciated.
With all that, though, an Israeli company is deeply involved in industrial production, developing software to create molds, dies and machines.
Good software is absolutely necessary to build plastic-injection molds, for example, which can have up to 5,000 parts, including pins, screws and plates.
Usually one person designs the product, but another person – often in another company – designs the molds for each part. It’s up to the software to make sure that everyone follows the same design plan; the more precise the design program, the more precise the final product will come out.
Cimatron, indeed, is an anomaly in the Israeli hi-tech world, concentrating on applications and technology for what is generally thought to be “low-tech” purposes, Cimatron CEO Dan Haran says. “But it’s not really low-tech because the design of almost everything today is very sophisticated.”
It’s not Internet-type hi-tech, but it’s hi-tech in the sense that the design and execution of almost all manufacturing processes today is very advanced and sophisticated. Call it “post-industrial,” he says.
Take, for example, a car dashboard, an area that Cimatron has quite a lot of experience in.
“There are hundreds of parts that go into making a dashboard, and they all have to be precisely designed and built, so that they can work together,” Haran says. “Most of the parts are made out of plastic and metal, and for each part to work together, you need precise design, and that’s based on the kind of software we produce.”
There are few businesses that are more all-encompassing than mold and die design, and Cimatron’s technology is being used by companies large and small from very diverse backgrounds and in almost any manufacturing capacity you can imagine.
For example, one company using Cimatron’s CAD/CAM system is China’s Haier Mould, a subsidiary of the Haier Group, which controls nearly 35 percent of China’s household appliance market (imagine how many coffee makers that is!) and boasts a sales network spanning 31 countries.
With an annual production capacity of 1,200 standard mold sets and capability to build molds over 40 tons, Haier Mould services global companies such as Ford, Toyota, Volkswagen, Mitsubishi, Honda, Nissan, Samsung, LG, Canon and Sanyo.
Vaupell, another Cimatron customer, makes molded products and assemblies for medical, defense, aerospace, electronics and transportation industries. Here, too, precision is essential; the parts that US-based Vaupell makes need to be just so – sometimes to the thousandth of a centimeter – to fulfill engineering and legal requirements.
UK-based DLS Plastics makes all sorts of plastic caps, covers and connectors for use in plumbing and water systems.
Once again, if the connection is off by even a little, things just won’t screw together properly, resulting in wastewater flooding homes and neighborhoods.
Once again, its Cimatron to the rescue, with tools that cut down training time and automate the design process.
You can’t get more industrial than little plastic connectors to keep water flowing through pipes. That an Israeli company has been able to compete with the top companies in the world working in CAD/CAM design for manufacturing is an untold Israeli hi-tech success story. And the same applies to far more sophisticated products, Haran says.
“Blades and turbines for many planes, for example, are made out of titanium and other metals and cannot be made with a die, but are made one at a time,” he says, and Cimatron has that covered as well.
While China has seemingly become the “world’s factory,” there are many higher-end items that cannot be made there, and there is plenty of manufacturing going on in Europe and the US, he says, and it is in there – among the mold makers, die makers, parts manufacturers or subcontractors – where Cimatron’s sophisticated software is most appreciated.
2011年11月22日星期二
DPI takes EVA foam moulding into new areas
Injection moulder DPI, based in Geldrop, the Netherlands, has started moulding EVA foam, the very light material used in Crocs shoes.
DPI claims to be the first company in western Europe to process EVA material, aside from contract moulders producing shoes in Italy, Romania, Bosnia and Hercegovina for Crocs.
In September, DPI exhibited at the Kunststoffen 2011 fair in Veldhoven, and it held a technical event at its Geldrop facility in June to demonstrate the process to customers.
At these events, DPI showed the children's EVA cycle seats it is moulding for Dutch company GMG. The Yepp seats are available in a variety of bright colours.
EVA is suitable for these seats because it is waterproof, shock-absorbing, has a high insulating capacity and is easy to clean. EVA is about 70-80% lighter than traditional plastic products, but is also tough, UV resistant, flame retardant and easy to colour.
DPI has invested in KS series machinery from KingSteel Machinery in Taiwan to produce the seats for GMG.
It says EVA can be moulded for many consumer products, such as footwear, toys, bicycle saddles, bags and belts. The company can also mould products in smaller runs of about 500 to 1,000 items.
The temperature of the EVA compound in the injection unit is only 90C, while the mould temperature is 170C. This is necessary because the EVA compound contains two additives - a foaming agent and a crosslinking agent - which only react if the temperature is sufficiently high. So once it enters the mould, the higher temperature causes foaming and crosslinking of the EVA material. When the mould opens after injection and cooling, the EVA bubbles grow and the product expands by 170%.
The cycle time is longer than when injection moulding other plastics, and to address this DPI uses a mould with eight cavities located side by side. Two independent barrels are attached to the injection unit and cavities are filled in a sequence, increasing productivity.
DPI claims to be the first company in western Europe to process EVA material, aside from contract moulders producing shoes in Italy, Romania, Bosnia and Hercegovina for Crocs.
In September, DPI exhibited at the Kunststoffen 2011 fair in Veldhoven, and it held a technical event at its Geldrop facility in June to demonstrate the process to customers.
At these events, DPI showed the children's EVA cycle seats it is moulding for Dutch company GMG. The Yepp seats are available in a variety of bright colours.
EVA is suitable for these seats because it is waterproof, shock-absorbing, has a high insulating capacity and is easy to clean. EVA is about 70-80% lighter than traditional plastic products, but is also tough, UV resistant, flame retardant and easy to colour.
DPI has invested in KS series machinery from KingSteel Machinery in Taiwan to produce the seats for GMG.
It says EVA can be moulded for many consumer products, such as footwear, toys, bicycle saddles, bags and belts. The company can also mould products in smaller runs of about 500 to 1,000 items.
The temperature of the EVA compound in the injection unit is only 90C, while the mould temperature is 170C. This is necessary because the EVA compound contains two additives - a foaming agent and a crosslinking agent - which only react if the temperature is sufficiently high. So once it enters the mould, the higher temperature causes foaming and crosslinking of the EVA material. When the mould opens after injection and cooling, the EVA bubbles grow and the product expands by 170%.
The cycle time is longer than when injection moulding other plastics, and to address this DPI uses a mould with eight cavities located side by side. Two independent barrels are attached to the injection unit and cavities are filled in a sequence, increasing productivity.
2011年10月11日星期二
1.6 turbo at home in Citroën C5
Road testing the first-generation C5 almost ten years ago is an experience firmly etched in my memory bank.
Be sure that has nothing to do with its dull 'jelly mould' design or its plastic deluxe interior that would put an older-generation Japanese car to shame. The C5 started appealing to me when I thought to myself: “I'm sure I just went over a huge speed hump, but I didn't feel anything.”
Long story short, after tackling that fat speed nanny many times over at a gradually increasing velocity, I found myself tackling it at speeds that would probably have sent any other vehicle flying onto the pavement. And all this with nothing more than a gentle thud.
I instantly counted myself as a fan of Citroën's Hydractive suspension, which provides nothing short of a 'magic carpet' ride and great handling to boot. That's why I was disappointed to find this piece of hydraulic suspension wizardry missing from the entry-level version of this very latest C5, the 155 THP.
Despite this, I can't say I'm disappointed by the modern C5. The styling, for starters, is leaps and bounds ahead. While perhaps a bit too mainstream for Citroën traditionalists, even resembling a BMW from some angles, it's a great fusion of sporty and elegant vibes and that continues in the cabin.
The dash design is certainly distinctive, the cherry on top being that fixed-hub steering wheel that allows the fitment of a larger airbag, and the material quality is nothing to be sniffed at. Those front seats are both supportive and cushy too. I would have expected more rear legroom from a car in this class though, although it's by no means cramped.
The 155 THP model extends the reach of Citroën's C5 to those shopping around the R300 000 bracket (the only other models, 2.0 and 3.0 diesels, approach the R400K mark). It's fitted with a 1.6-litre turbopetrol engine, credited with 115kW at 6000rpm and 240Nm at 1400rpm.
Given the much lower price, this engine is actually the perfect match for the C5. It's not overly thirsty, with its average consumption claimed at 7.7 litres per 100km, and it's a reasonably good performer. Sure, it's not a performance car by any stretch of the imagination, but it's as rapid as you'd expect from a large sedan at this end of the market and it delivers its urge smoothly enough through its six-speed automatic gearbox.
Chuck it into some bends and the C5 corners rather neatly, but the steering feels absolutely numb - it's just too light and offers virtually nothing in the way of feedback.
On the grander scale of things, one could hardly compare this car to sportier offerings from BMW and Audi but as an alternative to the likes of Hyundai's Sonata, VW's Passat and Honda's Accord, the Citroën is a stylish and refined alternative.
Be sure that has nothing to do with its dull 'jelly mould' design or its plastic deluxe interior that would put an older-generation Japanese car to shame. The C5 started appealing to me when I thought to myself: “I'm sure I just went over a huge speed hump, but I didn't feel anything.”
Long story short, after tackling that fat speed nanny many times over at a gradually increasing velocity, I found myself tackling it at speeds that would probably have sent any other vehicle flying onto the pavement. And all this with nothing more than a gentle thud.
I instantly counted myself as a fan of Citroën's Hydractive suspension, which provides nothing short of a 'magic carpet' ride and great handling to boot. That's why I was disappointed to find this piece of hydraulic suspension wizardry missing from the entry-level version of this very latest C5, the 155 THP.
Despite this, I can't say I'm disappointed by the modern C5. The styling, for starters, is leaps and bounds ahead. While perhaps a bit too mainstream for Citroën traditionalists, even resembling a BMW from some angles, it's a great fusion of sporty and elegant vibes and that continues in the cabin.
The dash design is certainly distinctive, the cherry on top being that fixed-hub steering wheel that allows the fitment of a larger airbag, and the material quality is nothing to be sniffed at. Those front seats are both supportive and cushy too. I would have expected more rear legroom from a car in this class though, although it's by no means cramped.
The 155 THP model extends the reach of Citroën's C5 to those shopping around the R300 000 bracket (the only other models, 2.0 and 3.0 diesels, approach the R400K mark). It's fitted with a 1.6-litre turbopetrol engine, credited with 115kW at 6000rpm and 240Nm at 1400rpm.
Given the much lower price, this engine is actually the perfect match for the C5. It's not overly thirsty, with its average consumption claimed at 7.7 litres per 100km, and it's a reasonably good performer. Sure, it's not a performance car by any stretch of the imagination, but it's as rapid as you'd expect from a large sedan at this end of the market and it delivers its urge smoothly enough through its six-speed automatic gearbox.
Chuck it into some bends and the C5 corners rather neatly, but the steering feels absolutely numb - it's just too light and offers virtually nothing in the way of feedback.
On the grander scale of things, one could hardly compare this car to sportier offerings from BMW and Audi but as an alternative to the likes of Hyundai's Sonata, VW's Passat and Honda's Accord, the Citroën is a stylish and refined alternative.
2011年10月10日星期一
Blood, bone and a lot of rot
After listening to the world's top chefs at Sydney's Crave festival, Janne Apelgren reflects on 12 lessons she won't forget.
1. The most important tool in the kitchen is the mortar and pestle. Forget the immersion circulator, Thermomix and Pacojet, the prehistoric grinder is the one chefs keep coming back to. Neil Perry said hand-pounding pesto was the only way to go, while Ben Shewry ground roasted seaweed between two beach stones.
2.Use more salt. Real chefs throw it in by the handful. Amateurs, they say, often underseason. David Lebovitz, blogger, Parisian and former pastry chef at pioneering Californian restaurant Chez Panisse, uses and loves it in desserts (think salted caramel). He travels with his own to avoid having to use processed granulated salt.
3. Diets are actually bad for you. New York author-chef Gabrielle Hamilton railed against people who obsessed over everything they ate, saying it was a vicious cycle. Relaxing about what you ate, sometimes enjoying what you shouldn't, was better for you. It was a view echoed by several chefs, including world-renowned Mexican cuisine expert Diana Kennedy, who admitted she had always had high cholesterol but still indulged in fatty meat. She's 87.
4. Blood, bones and butter are three hot ingredients. Gabrielle Hamilton was spot-on-trend in the title of her memoir, the wonderful Blood, Bones and Butter. Perhaps it's the chefs' way of proving the difference between us and them. After all, Andrew McConnell admitted as he poured a plastic bladder of blood into a dish he described as a blood custard, most people found it a bit confronting, so he thinks its safer to call it boudin noir in the restaurant. Magnus Nilsson's hors d'oeuvre of roe in a dried pigs' blood crust delivered crunch followed by a primally familiar slightly metallic taste. Bone marrow was another lauded ingredient, so too butter, which Hamilton loves to compound. Tip equal parts butter and your ingredient of choice into a food processor and blend, use it on toast, on meats, in dishes, and freeze for later, she suggests. Wrinkly oil-cured kalamata olives, or anchovies, or garlic with parsley and shallots all make great compound butter, Hamilton says.
5. Pickle power is on the rise. From sauerkraut to kimchi, (''kissing cousins'', according to American-Korean chef David Chang), the pungent and pickled are popping up everywhere to punch up flavour and texture.
6. Pioneer skills are in, so drag out the Mrs Beeton. Living by the local, seasonal mantra, Swedish chef Magnus Nilsson admitted his seven-person team spent 50 per cent of their working hours sourcing produce, stored food in soil and straw to stretch it across the year, and only ever bought meat in the form of a whole, live beast. Gabrielle Hamilton pointed out chefs were using ''pioneer skills'' more and more, making jam, preserving, conserving, cellaring and storing, even cooking in earth.
7. There's a burning desire for fire. More cooks are using it and loving it. Francis Mallmann, of Argentina, grilled oranges stuck with rosemary and sprinkled with sugar, Magnus Nilsson stuck a whole bone on coals, and sawed it open for the marrow as he does in the dining room of his remote restaurant. Mallmann urged cooks not to toss and turn meat on a grill, but to leave it be. His love of fire is part of a broader philosophy: ''All of us have to spend more time outside, children have to spend half the day outside, to learn the language of the wind, the clouds and smoke. It will make them better adults.''
8. Octopus and crab are the go-to seafoods. Ben Shewry said he and David Chang agreed crab is ''one of the most amazingly beautiful products we have to work with in Australia''. Shewry dispatches them humanely by lowering their body temperature to about 2 degrees, then spiking them behind the ''head'' with a knife. Los Angeles chef Jon Shook (Animal restaurant) rhapsodised about our baby octopus.
9. I do not want to be a chef. Ben Shewry described the first years of his career, working 100 hours a week, his fingers bleeding under the nails from scrubbing dishes. Gabrielle Hamilton, of New York's Prune restaurant, said, ''The biggest mistake people make is saying, 'I want to be a chef because I love to cook.' You should not go into a restaurant for that reason. You do it because you have a strange work ethic, you love to put systems in place, you like to create order from chaos.''
10. The future of food is rotten. David Chang (Momofuku in New York and, soon, in Sydney) says managing microbes will be the next food frontier. Mould, fermentation and bacteria have the potential to transform what we eat, in a good way, from aged steak to locally made soy. He's working with two Harvard microbiologists to understand microbes better.
11. Marinades are bad. The charismatic Frances Mallmann, Argentinian king of the barbecue, opened his session declaring, ''I hate marinades''. His objection was that they change the taste of the primary ingredients. He prefers to add other flavours at the table, such as sauce, ''so the flavours have a little fight inside the mouth''. To explain further, he used pumpkin soup as an example. ''After three mouthfuls soup is boring, but if you then have a crunchy galette … mmmm.''
12. Bloody Mary for entree. At my next dinner party (or breakfast, or brunch) I'm serving guests Bloody Marys as an entree. Gabrielle Hamilton has nearly a dozen on her brunch list. She serves them with skewers dangling off the side, perhaps pickles (turnips, brussels sprouts, beans) or smoked peppers, or olives, or anchovies. You may even get a beef jerky swizzle stick. The ''Danish'' comes with aquavit, the ''Mariner'' with clam juice, ingredients dance from wasabi to horseradish to beef stock. They're best chased with a small beer.
1. The most important tool in the kitchen is the mortar and pestle. Forget the immersion circulator, Thermomix and Pacojet, the prehistoric grinder is the one chefs keep coming back to. Neil Perry said hand-pounding pesto was the only way to go, while Ben Shewry ground roasted seaweed between two beach stones.
2.Use more salt. Real chefs throw it in by the handful. Amateurs, they say, often underseason. David Lebovitz, blogger, Parisian and former pastry chef at pioneering Californian restaurant Chez Panisse, uses and loves it in desserts (think salted caramel). He travels with his own to avoid having to use processed granulated salt.
3. Diets are actually bad for you. New York author-chef Gabrielle Hamilton railed against people who obsessed over everything they ate, saying it was a vicious cycle. Relaxing about what you ate, sometimes enjoying what you shouldn't, was better for you. It was a view echoed by several chefs, including world-renowned Mexican cuisine expert Diana Kennedy, who admitted she had always had high cholesterol but still indulged in fatty meat. She's 87.
4. Blood, bones and butter are three hot ingredients. Gabrielle Hamilton was spot-on-trend in the title of her memoir, the wonderful Blood, Bones and Butter. Perhaps it's the chefs' way of proving the difference between us and them. After all, Andrew McConnell admitted as he poured a plastic bladder of blood into a dish he described as a blood custard, most people found it a bit confronting, so he thinks its safer to call it boudin noir in the restaurant. Magnus Nilsson's hors d'oeuvre of roe in a dried pigs' blood crust delivered crunch followed by a primally familiar slightly metallic taste. Bone marrow was another lauded ingredient, so too butter, which Hamilton loves to compound. Tip equal parts butter and your ingredient of choice into a food processor and blend, use it on toast, on meats, in dishes, and freeze for later, she suggests. Wrinkly oil-cured kalamata olives, or anchovies, or garlic with parsley and shallots all make great compound butter, Hamilton says.
5. Pickle power is on the rise. From sauerkraut to kimchi, (''kissing cousins'', according to American-Korean chef David Chang), the pungent and pickled are popping up everywhere to punch up flavour and texture.
6. Pioneer skills are in, so drag out the Mrs Beeton. Living by the local, seasonal mantra, Swedish chef Magnus Nilsson admitted his seven-person team spent 50 per cent of their working hours sourcing produce, stored food in soil and straw to stretch it across the year, and only ever bought meat in the form of a whole, live beast. Gabrielle Hamilton pointed out chefs were using ''pioneer skills'' more and more, making jam, preserving, conserving, cellaring and storing, even cooking in earth.
7. There's a burning desire for fire. More cooks are using it and loving it. Francis Mallmann, of Argentina, grilled oranges stuck with rosemary and sprinkled with sugar, Magnus Nilsson stuck a whole bone on coals, and sawed it open for the marrow as he does in the dining room of his remote restaurant. Mallmann urged cooks not to toss and turn meat on a grill, but to leave it be. His love of fire is part of a broader philosophy: ''All of us have to spend more time outside, children have to spend half the day outside, to learn the language of the wind, the clouds and smoke. It will make them better adults.''
8. Octopus and crab are the go-to seafoods. Ben Shewry said he and David Chang agreed crab is ''one of the most amazingly beautiful products we have to work with in Australia''. Shewry dispatches them humanely by lowering their body temperature to about 2 degrees, then spiking them behind the ''head'' with a knife. Los Angeles chef Jon Shook (Animal restaurant) rhapsodised about our baby octopus.
9. I do not want to be a chef. Ben Shewry described the first years of his career, working 100 hours a week, his fingers bleeding under the nails from scrubbing dishes. Gabrielle Hamilton, of New York's Prune restaurant, said, ''The biggest mistake people make is saying, 'I want to be a chef because I love to cook.' You should not go into a restaurant for that reason. You do it because you have a strange work ethic, you love to put systems in place, you like to create order from chaos.''
10. The future of food is rotten. David Chang (Momofuku in New York and, soon, in Sydney) says managing microbes will be the next food frontier. Mould, fermentation and bacteria have the potential to transform what we eat, in a good way, from aged steak to locally made soy. He's working with two Harvard microbiologists to understand microbes better.
11. Marinades are bad. The charismatic Frances Mallmann, Argentinian king of the barbecue, opened his session declaring, ''I hate marinades''. His objection was that they change the taste of the primary ingredients. He prefers to add other flavours at the table, such as sauce, ''so the flavours have a little fight inside the mouth''. To explain further, he used pumpkin soup as an example. ''After three mouthfuls soup is boring, but if you then have a crunchy galette … mmmm.''
12. Bloody Mary for entree. At my next dinner party (or breakfast, or brunch) I'm serving guests Bloody Marys as an entree. Gabrielle Hamilton has nearly a dozen on her brunch list. She serves them with skewers dangling off the side, perhaps pickles (turnips, brussels sprouts, beans) or smoked peppers, or olives, or anchovies. You may even get a beef jerky swizzle stick. The ''Danish'' comes with aquavit, the ''Mariner'' with clam juice, ingredients dance from wasabi to horseradish to beef stock. They're best chased with a small beer.
2011年9月26日星期一
Interview: Lorraine Pascale
Is there a world more stiflingly chocka than that of the television chef? It seems as if most of the bases are covered. We have hairy bikers, goddesses of various kinds, fish experts, green-wellied toffs, foul-mouthed Scotsmen, foul-mouthed Englishmen, charming Frenchmen, and the twin saints, Delia and Jamie.
If you are hoping to crash into the charmed circle of those whose name can flog van-loads of books, ovenware and aprons, you’d better have a very special Unique Selling Point. Otherwise, you might as well turn your gifts to cooking school dinners. That is, if Jamie hadn’t got there first.
At which point, enter Lorraine Pascale. In terms of a USP, there seems to be no problem. She’s a specialist baker with her own shop, Ella’s Bakehouse (named after her 15-year-old daughter), in central London. Her nifty manner with cupcakes, particularly the ones with Oreo cookies crumbled into vanilla sponge, led to a first TV series, Baking Made Easy, and accompanying book.
Aged 38, she’s also fabulously photogenic, with a rather glam hinterland. Indeed, before she started baking, she was a very successful model; the first British black woman to land the cover of American Elle, the star of campaigns for Donna Karan and Versace and favourite of photographer Bob Carlos Clarke, whose revealing 1992 picture of her caused a mini-storm when it was exhibited earlier this year in a Chelsea gallery.
There’s the intriguing family back story; born in Oxfordshire, Pascale was adopted at 18 months to a white family who brought her up until she was seven. At which point, her adoptive mother became ill, meaning that she was put back into care and handed around various families, until eventually returning to her adoptive mother.
Then there is the question of race in televisual cuisine. Apart from Ainsley Harriott, the total count of black chefs with their own shows before Pascale came along (unless you count Chef on South Park or Lenny Henry’s starring role in the eponymous sitcom), was zero. The domain of television cheffery is almost wholly white, what with your Sophies, Gordons, Nigellas, Jamies and Hughs.
The beautiful Pascale, however, will not discuss any of the above: not family, race, daughter, modelling, Naomi Campbell or adoption. I’d say she’ll never entertain an invitation to appear on the next series of Who Do You Think You Are? She may know very well who she is, but she clearly has no wish for anyone else to.
Here she is on life within the epicentre of the modelling circuit. “It was just about having fun.” No anxieties about food then? “Everyone was very healthy. It was all about shapely figures and we had great food on shoots.”
OK, how about Naomi Campbell. Was she something of a mentor? “Our paths crossed a bit, during Fashion Week. I wasn’t in her circle. She was great fun, though.” Yet like her, you were something of a mould-breaker, weren’t you? “I was just having fun.”
All right, can we talk about your family? “My whole family has been so supportive and some of them might appear in the show,” she confides. How lovely – who is appearing? “I have some really great friends whom I regard as my extended family.”
All right, let’s forget about all of that. Focus on the message of the new show, Home Cooking Made Easy.
“The message I want to get across,” says Pascale, “is that sometimes I’m all for getting something out of a packet, or going to the shop and buying something, pricking holes in it and putting it in the oven. But when I have time, I cook as well.”
I’m a bit thrown by this. The BBC’s new find for domestic cuisine advocates pre-cooked food in plastic trays? “I am a chef, yes,” smiles Pascale divinely. “But I am also human. Sometimes we don’t have time, do we, and we’ll get something ready-made from a shop. But if you do have time, [my series says] look at what you can cook, here are some ideas.”
Phew. For a moment there, I say, I thought you were going to go all Delia on me, and suggest packet mashed potato. “No, no,” says Pascale. “The show is all about freshly made food.”
Pascale, who is of course fabulously thin, admits to having “bad weeks” and “good weeks” with food but cheerily says she burns it all off with regular runs around the London parks. She still has the delighted thrill of the newly discovered, and confesses that on the first day of filming Baking Made Easy, the crew had to tell her to turn it down a bit. “It was as if I was doing a demonstration at school. The crew had to say, ‘You do have a microphone on, you don’t have to shout.’ It took me a while to get into the groove.”
Who are her television cooking idols? “I love Iron Chef America, and MasterChef Australia. And I love Mrs Beeton,” she adds, a reminder that she trained professionally at Leith’s Academy for a year and has various stints in restaurant kitchens under her belt. She tells me about a show in America where a family heads out west for a spell of home schooling and pioneer cooking. “It was very white, the area, in the middle of nowhere. I wouldn’t have been all that welcome!” That’s interesting. Does she see cooking as an all-white enclave, too?
Pascale, possibly realising we are threatening the borders of a challenging topic, retrenches immediately. “I don’t think cooking sees colour. I am a child of the 1970s. I’ve grown up in London and travelled around. I see beyond colour or even thinking like that.”
We go back to her favourite food (lamb shank, ricotta and chorizo). What about her favourite meal, I ask? “Well, I love breakfast. You can have a fry-up, or a big bowl of porridge, or fruit. But I love meat. And in the summer, I eat lots of fish.”
If you are hoping to crash into the charmed circle of those whose name can flog van-loads of books, ovenware and aprons, you’d better have a very special Unique Selling Point. Otherwise, you might as well turn your gifts to cooking school dinners. That is, if Jamie hadn’t got there first.
At which point, enter Lorraine Pascale. In terms of a USP, there seems to be no problem. She’s a specialist baker with her own shop, Ella’s Bakehouse (named after her 15-year-old daughter), in central London. Her nifty manner with cupcakes, particularly the ones with Oreo cookies crumbled into vanilla sponge, led to a first TV series, Baking Made Easy, and accompanying book.
Aged 38, she’s also fabulously photogenic, with a rather glam hinterland. Indeed, before she started baking, she was a very successful model; the first British black woman to land the cover of American Elle, the star of campaigns for Donna Karan and Versace and favourite of photographer Bob Carlos Clarke, whose revealing 1992 picture of her caused a mini-storm when it was exhibited earlier this year in a Chelsea gallery.
There’s the intriguing family back story; born in Oxfordshire, Pascale was adopted at 18 months to a white family who brought her up until she was seven. At which point, her adoptive mother became ill, meaning that she was put back into care and handed around various families, until eventually returning to her adoptive mother.
Then there is the question of race in televisual cuisine. Apart from Ainsley Harriott, the total count of black chefs with their own shows before Pascale came along (unless you count Chef on South Park or Lenny Henry’s starring role in the eponymous sitcom), was zero. The domain of television cheffery is almost wholly white, what with your Sophies, Gordons, Nigellas, Jamies and Hughs.
The beautiful Pascale, however, will not discuss any of the above: not family, race, daughter, modelling, Naomi Campbell or adoption. I’d say she’ll never entertain an invitation to appear on the next series of Who Do You Think You Are? She may know very well who she is, but she clearly has no wish for anyone else to.
Here she is on life within the epicentre of the modelling circuit. “It was just about having fun.” No anxieties about food then? “Everyone was very healthy. It was all about shapely figures and we had great food on shoots.”
OK, how about Naomi Campbell. Was she something of a mentor? “Our paths crossed a bit, during Fashion Week. I wasn’t in her circle. She was great fun, though.” Yet like her, you were something of a mould-breaker, weren’t you? “I was just having fun.”
All right, can we talk about your family? “My whole family has been so supportive and some of them might appear in the show,” she confides. How lovely – who is appearing? “I have some really great friends whom I regard as my extended family.”
All right, let’s forget about all of that. Focus on the message of the new show, Home Cooking Made Easy.
“The message I want to get across,” says Pascale, “is that sometimes I’m all for getting something out of a packet, or going to the shop and buying something, pricking holes in it and putting it in the oven. But when I have time, I cook as well.”
I’m a bit thrown by this. The BBC’s new find for domestic cuisine advocates pre-cooked food in plastic trays? “I am a chef, yes,” smiles Pascale divinely. “But I am also human. Sometimes we don’t have time, do we, and we’ll get something ready-made from a shop. But if you do have time, [my series says] look at what you can cook, here are some ideas.”
Phew. For a moment there, I say, I thought you were going to go all Delia on me, and suggest packet mashed potato. “No, no,” says Pascale. “The show is all about freshly made food.”
Pascale, who is of course fabulously thin, admits to having “bad weeks” and “good weeks” with food but cheerily says she burns it all off with regular runs around the London parks. She still has the delighted thrill of the newly discovered, and confesses that on the first day of filming Baking Made Easy, the crew had to tell her to turn it down a bit. “It was as if I was doing a demonstration at school. The crew had to say, ‘You do have a microphone on, you don’t have to shout.’ It took me a while to get into the groove.”
Who are her television cooking idols? “I love Iron Chef America, and MasterChef Australia. And I love Mrs Beeton,” she adds, a reminder that she trained professionally at Leith’s Academy for a year and has various stints in restaurant kitchens under her belt. She tells me about a show in America where a family heads out west for a spell of home schooling and pioneer cooking. “It was very white, the area, in the middle of nowhere. I wouldn’t have been all that welcome!” That’s interesting. Does she see cooking as an all-white enclave, too?
Pascale, possibly realising we are threatening the borders of a challenging topic, retrenches immediately. “I don’t think cooking sees colour. I am a child of the 1970s. I’ve grown up in London and travelled around. I see beyond colour or even thinking like that.”
We go back to her favourite food (lamb shank, ricotta and chorizo). What about her favourite meal, I ask? “Well, I love breakfast. You can have a fry-up, or a big bowl of porridge, or fruit. But I love meat. And in the summer, I eat lots of fish.”
2011年5月22日星期日
Through the looking glass
Obsession. There is no other word to describe Joy Menachery's ‘emotion' for making glass . He calls his brand of handmade glass ‘Hard Liquid'.
Joy at Hard Liquid fashions glass out of glass. His pieces have a fluidity that justifies the name, some of them look like they were frozen ‘mid-flow'. Bottles of all hues and shapes inspire Joy. His works are primarily used for ‘architectural applications', which means he works with architects and interior designers.
Time permitting he fashions beauty out of waste and if the requirement is big (dimensionally) it is only then that he buys glass.
It all started with him fabricating a furnace. Simple! Not as simple as it sounds. It took him 12 years to get the furnace right. He wanted a one foot by one foot 2 kilowatt electric furnace that would work on a single phase (of electricity); reaches 850 – 1000 degrees centigrade and the glass that he intended to make or rather mould shouldn't break either.
Tall order it appeared to be, for “people were willing to fabricate the furnace but there were no guarantees about uniform heating. If heating is not uniform, glass will break,” says Joy. After his already depleting bank account was lesser by Rs. 6 lakh he had his furnace. He now works on a three phase, 12 kilowatt furnace. He even fabricates small furnaces for those who want to use it for hand making glass. Competition isn't it? “Technology is not meant to be locked up. It should be available for people to use.”
He has bitter-sweet memories of the early times. Running out of money and not wanting to ask his father, of the desperation of not being able to show what he had in mind. Of what his then newly-married wife would have thought about him. “She went home and told her folks ‘something's amiss with my husband! He wants to BEND glass,” he recalls laughing. There was no way he was going to get a loan for ‘this'. “If I was making interlocking tiles or recycling plastic I would have got a loan easily. But not for this, because I had nothing to show as a sample.”
His love affair with glass began when he was very young. Joy is trained in printing technology; he worked as a creative consultant for a resort, he has tried his hand at eco-farming…he has even made reinforced bricks made of mud (‘not clay'). Now almost 18 years after he embarked on the quest for the perfect furnace, he is content (restless in parts) about the place where he is at now.
All the talk about ‘THE' furnace arouses curiosity. Joy takes us to his studio/workshop adjacent to his house in Eroor. There ‘she' sits, the furnace occupying pride of place at the centre of the workshop. Joy explains how it works. There are freshly ‘moulded' glass ‘bubbles' waiting to be taken out and ‘polished'. Moulds, by the way, are made of ceramic. Then there is the grinding machine which uses wet process so that there is no dust and therefore no air pollution. The grinding machine too is recycled from a second hand lathe machine.
Making glass is not as easy as it sounds. Since Joy's works have more to do with fusing pieces of glass, the compatibility of glass to be fused is important.
His products are available in some stores in the city. Work on his signature store on the first floor of his house is on.
Joy is very conscientious when it comes to the environment and pollution in particular. He is proud to say that his unit is non-polluting. “My neighbours had no clue about what I was doing here. They were surprised when they were told about my glass making. No noise, no emissions…nothing at all.”
Branding is something Joy has not ventured into, for the time being. Hard Liquid has exclusivity thrust upon it, it stays a closely guarded secret. In fact some people go as far to say that some of the things that they own have been ‘imported'. “That puts paid to any recognition or offers that might come my way,” he says with a twinge of regret. Joy does, however, participate in exhibitions and trade fairs across the country.
Raw material
Raw material is not a problem. He gets it from scrap dealers or from shops with glass pieces that they cannot use. Sometimes he gets them free, generally he pays for them. Given the unconventional nature of work sales tax department officials and his chartered accountant have been equally flummoxed. “I sometimes pay Rs.1 or 75 paise for a bottle, which after I am done with will cost anywhere upwards of Rs. 200. They couldn't understand the ‘economics' of the whole thing…but then that is the economics of handmade glass or rather recycling glass.” It is value addition that costs money. Joy says he doesn't price his products too high because there is no point pricing it prohibitively. “People should be able to afford my work.”
Joy at Hard Liquid fashions glass out of glass. His pieces have a fluidity that justifies the name, some of them look like they were frozen ‘mid-flow'. Bottles of all hues and shapes inspire Joy. His works are primarily used for ‘architectural applications', which means he works with architects and interior designers.
Time permitting he fashions beauty out of waste and if the requirement is big (dimensionally) it is only then that he buys glass.
It all started with him fabricating a furnace. Simple! Not as simple as it sounds. It took him 12 years to get the furnace right. He wanted a one foot by one foot 2 kilowatt electric furnace that would work on a single phase (of electricity); reaches 850 – 1000 degrees centigrade and the glass that he intended to make or rather mould shouldn't break either.
Tall order it appeared to be, for “people were willing to fabricate the furnace but there were no guarantees about uniform heating. If heating is not uniform, glass will break,” says Joy. After his already depleting bank account was lesser by Rs. 6 lakh he had his furnace. He now works on a three phase, 12 kilowatt furnace. He even fabricates small furnaces for those who want to use it for hand making glass. Competition isn't it? “Technology is not meant to be locked up. It should be available for people to use.”
He has bitter-sweet memories of the early times. Running out of money and not wanting to ask his father, of the desperation of not being able to show what he had in mind. Of what his then newly-married wife would have thought about him. “She went home and told her folks ‘something's amiss with my husband! He wants to BEND glass,” he recalls laughing. There was no way he was going to get a loan for ‘this'. “If I was making interlocking tiles or recycling plastic I would have got a loan easily. But not for this, because I had nothing to show as a sample.”
His love affair with glass began when he was very young. Joy is trained in printing technology; he worked as a creative consultant for a resort, he has tried his hand at eco-farming…he has even made reinforced bricks made of mud (‘not clay'). Now almost 18 years after he embarked on the quest for the perfect furnace, he is content (restless in parts) about the place where he is at now.
All the talk about ‘THE' furnace arouses curiosity. Joy takes us to his studio/workshop adjacent to his house in Eroor. There ‘she' sits, the furnace occupying pride of place at the centre of the workshop. Joy explains how it works. There are freshly ‘moulded' glass ‘bubbles' waiting to be taken out and ‘polished'. Moulds, by the way, are made of ceramic. Then there is the grinding machine which uses wet process so that there is no dust and therefore no air pollution. The grinding machine too is recycled from a second hand lathe machine.
Making glass is not as easy as it sounds. Since Joy's works have more to do with fusing pieces of glass, the compatibility of glass to be fused is important.
His products are available in some stores in the city. Work on his signature store on the first floor of his house is on.
Joy is very conscientious when it comes to the environment and pollution in particular. He is proud to say that his unit is non-polluting. “My neighbours had no clue about what I was doing here. They were surprised when they were told about my glass making. No noise, no emissions…nothing at all.”
Branding is something Joy has not ventured into, for the time being. Hard Liquid has exclusivity thrust upon it, it stays a closely guarded secret. In fact some people go as far to say that some of the things that they own have been ‘imported'. “That puts paid to any recognition or offers that might come my way,” he says with a twinge of regret. Joy does, however, participate in exhibitions and trade fairs across the country.
Raw material
Raw material is not a problem. He gets it from scrap dealers or from shops with glass pieces that they cannot use. Sometimes he gets them free, generally he pays for them. Given the unconventional nature of work sales tax department officials and his chartered accountant have been equally flummoxed. “I sometimes pay Rs.1 or 75 paise for a bottle, which after I am done with will cost anywhere upwards of Rs. 200. They couldn't understand the ‘economics' of the whole thing…but then that is the economics of handmade glass or rather recycling glass.” It is value addition that costs money. Joy says he doesn't price his products too high because there is no point pricing it prohibitively. “People should be able to afford my work.”
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