Joey Presents: Great Mysteries of the Universe
Mystery #107 – Generic brand food
I am confused; I do not understand. But allow me to start at the beginning…
There is food that is more expensive than food should be. This food is well known to be expensive solely because of the brand name attached to it. This is established fact. There is other food, then, food that could very well be the same in every way, which initially differs in only two important details: the name on the box, and the price on the label. For the sake of this post, this is what I refer to as generic brand food.
But there is more to the equation, extra variables that throw the whole system off. See, generic brand food is different in more than just the presentation – it’s nasty. Now, there are always exceptions to that rule, but this month money has been tight (Apparently everyone I know has a March birthday. Nice) and I have become increasingly familiar with generic food this week. I’m here to tell you 99% of it tastes nothing like it should.
Now, perhaps the executives working for the big companies have somehow sabotaged the palettes of the generic brand food scientists? Sent them tongue anthrax by mail until, one by one, they’ve lost all ability to detect chalkiness and instead identify it as deliciousness? It cannot be about the cost of materials, simply cannot be. I would understand if we were even talking about food here, but in this day and age most of our delicious, name-brand snacks are all just lab-produced chemicals anyway. We aren’t talking about a well marbled steak, whose natural perfection comes only with the most expensively refined of raising, butchering, and cooking techniques. These are artificial flavors we’re dealing with. What could possibly be the cost difference between one powder designed to taste like ham and another powder that tastes slightly less like ham?
My theory is this: All of the generic food has been imported from somewhere else. Perhaps there is actually a country somewhere out there, where people despise all the things we celebrate as beautiful or wonderful, and from where all the generic brand food comes. In that place, all of our food is on sale for cheap because nobody likes it as much. Kids tug on shopping carts, begging mothers to buy them “Kroger Brand Fruit Hoops” and “Pasta-roni and Cheese”.
“No, Hubert, it’s too expensive,” she’ll say, before picking up another box. “Ooh, how about Kraft brand? Macaroni and Cheese? It’s on sale.”
“But moooom!” he will moan. “That stuff tastes like… cheese. It’s gross!”
“Oh, we’ll just sprinkle a little chalk on it. You’ll hardly know the difference.”
“It just isn’t the same,” he’ll sulk, because it isn’t.
And so Hubert is forced to choke down his disgusting, cheesy noodles and his nasty, sugary cereal that tastes too much like fruit. It isn’t until he is one day eating a box of Cracker Jacks (Dad refused to pay $11.47 for Snappy Cracks, the cheapskate) that his life is changed forever.
The box falls onto its side, and from among the other contents rolls some kind of toy: a plastic decoder ring.
“M…MOM!” he screams, too startled to pick it up, too excited to move from where he stands.
“What is it?!?” she yells, hurrying into the kitchen. “Did your sister choke on one of the Megabloks again?!?”
She sees it, and stops suddenly. Slowly she walks to the table, gingerly picks up the prize and rests it on her palm. “Oh my… oh my goodness,” she whispers. Her eyes, filled with tears, move slowly between the ring and her shocked child.
“We’re rich.”
