City workers

“Your packaging is shit; it looks like something a pair of M&S knickers would arrive in.” It’s not the sort of frank feedback you’d expect in most stuffy boardroom pitches.

But then ‘Food of Genius’ – one of the headline events at London’s first Food Tech Week (17-25 October) – was anything but stuffy.

Invite-only (with a waiting list of hundreds, we’re told) and the venue kept secret until 24 hours prior to the first pitch, guests arrived to this exclusive Dragons’ Den-style event already intrigued.

Stripped of last names and forbidden from work chat, we were left to mingle blind with fellow invitees. The person you were left sharing a glass of wine with could just as easily be a top brand’s CEO as their newest intern. And of course, that was half the fun.

Down to business, and the formula was simple: three foodie tech start-ups had five minutes to pitch to 20 anonymous expert panellists, who then took turns to hand out ‘no holds barred’ advice.

First up was a boozy subscription service struggling to find takers for its monthly ingredients boxes. There were some harsh words on packaging (see above) and doubt about whether anybody really needs a high-end box of alcoholic miniatures. But there are also plenty of words of wisdom on cosying up with big brands, and going for the gift market. Plus a lot of jokes about alcoholism – you wouldn’t get those in a boardroom, I’d bet.

Next was a clever piece of software for hydroponic farming that lets you grow tomatoes next to your fridge. Its biggest problem, said its Spanish creator, was whether or not to go for its most captive audience – the growing marijuana industry. It’s here that the gift of anonymity really kicked in, with panellists almost universally advocating the “cash in hash”.

By the time the third start-up took to the stage the audience was involved too. But despite the most polished presentation of the night, the founder of this retail app was given a hard time. “Sell your data and start again,” was the repeated feedback, leaving the founder looking so downtrodden that an audience member finally spoke up in support. “I’m exactly who you’re aiming this at,” she smiled encouragingly.

The three hours of blunt but hugely insightful discussion finally drew to a close with ‘the Big Reveal’, as panellists removed name tags and bragged shamelessly about their credentials.

Sworn to secrecy, all I can say is that these young start-ups were talking to some of the best and brightest in the business, an opportunity many would gladly pay thousands for. And what made it all the more valuable was that these experts spoke candidly without fear of reprisal or – more specifically – reportage. And that makes me more than happy to go against all my journalistic urges for once and keep 100% schtum.

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