Ketchup. In a Smoothie. Welcome to the Fruitiverse

I know some folk who swear by a Bloody Mary at 30,000 feet, a little salty, a little spicy, a whole lot of altitude-induced alchemy. But this? This takes the tomato trend to cruising altitude and then parachutes into the realm of absurdity. Introducing the Heinz Tomato Ketchup Smoothie.

Yes, you read that correctly.

Source: Smoothie King Heinz Tomato Ketchup Smoothie

In what can only be described as a smoothie stunt for the ages, condiment kingpin Heinz has partnered with US based, Smoothie King to release a limited-edition ketchup-based smoothie. Equal parts head-scratcher and trend-hacker, this $5.70 blend is made from Heinz’s iconic “Simply Ketchup” (only seven ingredients, no artificial anything), strawberries, raspberries, açaí sorbet, and apple juice. Tomato. But make it fruity.

Available now across five U.S. cities - Atlanta, Chicago, Denver, Miami, and the New York/New Jersey metroplex - the drink is timed to drop during peak tomato season. Because, naturally, nothing screams “farm fresh” like whizzing tomatoes into a blender with berries and slapping a smoothie label on it.

So what’s this really about? According to Angie Madigan, VP of Elevation Marketing at Kraft Heinz, it’s a response to an internet debate: “If tomatoes are a fruit, is ketchup technically a smoothie?” Their answer? “Let’s find out.”

And they did. With help from Smoothie King’s R&D lead Lori Primavera, who promises the blend still meets their “Clean Blends” standard, no artificial gunk, just functional novelty. (And presumably, a whole lot of raised eyebrows.)

Source: Smoothie King - Tomato Ketchup Smoothie

But beneath the marketing mischief lies a serious play at blurring boundaries, between condiment and cuisine, snack and sustenance, fruit and vegetable. Not to mention a deal of ‘social backlash’ where the general tenor yells ‘disgusting’ We’re living in a time when mushrooms are meat, peas are milk, and now, ketchup is smoothie. It’s the post-linear food era.

Call it curiosity marketing. Call it a crossover no one asked for. Or call it a fruit-forward provocation wrapped in a red squeeze bottle. But whatever you do, don’t call it boring.

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