The Art of 'Converting' Popular Snacks for the Orthodox Market

Beneath the radar, an entire world of advertising has been quietly emerging, targeting and harnessing the power of the Orthodox Jewish community. What began with small, now growing, Orthodox advertising agencies popping up like mushrooms after the rain has expanded into eye-catching advertisements with clever and persuasive messages. You'll find these ads in every Orthodox newspaper or community bulletin board, and now even on the supermarket shelves when you're just trying to do your weekly grocery shopping.

We once thought these brands belonged to the general public, with no connection to the religious community. But today, like many other trends, they have carved a respected place within our world, influencing us as we stand in front of the dairy refrigerator choosing dairy products for the kids or the snacks to stock up for Shabbat.

Some might say this adaptation is a positive statement—taking a familiar product's packaging and 'converting' it to suit the social codes of the Orthodox community shows sensitivity to their sentiments and a deeper understanding of their hearts.

But there are those, true to their principles, who find this change troubling. When so much branding, mass marketing, and flashy packaging start flooding our homes, we long for a place that values content over appearances.

Manufacturers like Strauss, Osem, and Elite have done their homework. Now, if a producer wants to sell any product to the Orthodox market, they know they need a lot of creativity. Smiling blonde women on cereal boxes won't work here; nor will dubious certifications from obscure rabbis, or overpriced small packages since this community values thrift and modesty.

How do they do it? Here's how popular food products are 'converted':

OUT .1: Characters from foreign cultures, celebrity icons, or any kind of female images. IN: The image of a good child from a cheder, or at most a cartoon of a pure animal, colorful and smiling.

For example, take the familiar child character from Tnuva's Badi dairy product. Have you noticed the difference between the 'regular' child and the Orthodox version? You can't miss the contrast between the punk child with a playful smile and a headband, and the innocent 'good boy of Jerusalem' with side locks on the Orthodox 'Badi.'

OUT .2: Secular names, slang, or foreign languages. IN: Names closer to familiar Yiddish language, or at least something soft and subtle.

For instance, meet the product named "Fischkalach," meaning 'little boxes' in Yiddish, containing small candies—something you wouldn't encounter in a regular neighborhood supermarket, definitely not as a product with such a name. Or the "Puchelina" chocolate eggs meant to replace the traditional "Kinder" eggs.

OUT .3: Minimal packaging at maximum price. IN: Large packages at minimal prices.

Any average Israeli consumer somewhat familiar with the Orthodox world knows that the way to an Orthodox consumer's heart—and wallet—starts with large packages combined with small prices. This means you might find it surprisingly cheaper to fill a shopping cart at a supermarket in an Orthodox neighborhood than in a secular one.

Take, for example, popcorn. On the Orthodox street, you can buy a giant 1.5 kg bag for just 3 shekels, while at the standard supermarket you'll find it in an 80-gram bag costing no less than 8 shekels.

(illustrative photo: Flash 90)

In conclusion, it's fascinating to see the evolving world of marketing tailored to the Orthodox consumer. On the one hand, it's nice to feel part of a world with such fine nuances that even the image on the morning cornflakes box influences whether it comes into the house.

On the other hand, it's concerning to think we might be swept away by a superficial and empty trend attempting to give us 'kosher brainwashing' through different methods but with the same goal—another mass-market culture of shallow, Western consumerism.

But hey, you must admit the kid on the Badi packaging looks pretty cute with those payot, right?

*Special thanks to Hodaya Toledano from the Photography Communications Department at Hadassah College for the inspiration.