I buy a lot of cheese and I buy it often. I'm not talking about fancy-pants blocks for platters (although I could live on those if the body would be kind enough to allow it). I'm talking sliced cheese, Parmesan, grated cheese (tasty, cheddar or sometimes pizza mix) and, usually when it's on special, big-arse blocks of tasty.
It's hard to be brand loyal when your financial situation can be likened to a steaming pile of puppy poo so I usually buy which ever brand is cheapest at the time.
And when brands are priced the same? How do I choose then? Why, the packaging of course.
Packaging. My jaw clenches just thinking about it. Little hairs rise on the back of my neck. Despite the cold, my cheeks burn with fury driven by one overused marketing promise:
Resealable? Pigs arse.
Can you see that? The strip inside the bag which, if the packet is to be believed, should seal both sides together, is planted firmly against one side of the packet only. The little male and female strips are working perfectly, sealed tightly together, snug and comfortable, totally oblivious to the gaping freakin' hole next to them.
This bag is therefore NOT resealable. Sure, it comes with a promise. It even comes with the necessary equipment to BE resealable. But it's not resealable. It's just not.
You know how I feel about the labelling of shampoo and conditioner. You might recall my struggle with the tomato sauce bottle and I think we all want to bury the great Glad Wrap disaster of 2014.
Mankind is remarkable. We send rockets into space. We replace faulty human hearts with viable working ones from a human who no longer needs it. We can grow ears on mice. One of us even wrote Game of Thrones for God's sake!
Please. Please. Can we just try a little harder to get the basics right?
Have you been caught?