When I purchase a package of bacon, I expect slabs of dead piggy, all red and white marbled and ready to fry. I do not anticipate random snouts and tails tossed in. In civilized society, that would be unthinkable. If I wanted that, I would simply buy hot dogs. Likewise, when I buy a carton of orange juice, I have the power to decide how much pulp I would like, but I can be certain that strips of rind will not be thrown in for flavor.
So why is it okay for pickle and jalapeno companies to shove in pickle tops and jalapeno tops in my jars of otherwise usable food items? The answer is: IT IS NOT. If Tylenol can’t include razor blades in their bottles of acetaminophen any more, then this should not be permissible as well.
It’s like people who went to I.T.T. who couldn’t find jobs and are now passing out flyers; they’re saying, “Here, throw this away for me.” That’s what these manufacturers are essentially demanding of me, the consumer. Throw your own crap away. Don’t fill up my jar with your rubbish. Why do I have to pay for that?
No one wants to bite into a breakfast taco, filled with a salsa containing pointy jalapeno stems that slit the roof of her mouth. Joe Schmoe doesn’t want to spend his piddly lunch hour, wretching up the half-chewed bite of ham and cheese sandwich containing a hard, impenetrable pickle top. Who can afford to spit out forty cent’s worth of lunch? Not me. Not in THIS recession. Not in this lifetime.
If they can put a man on the moon before I was even birthed, if they can put a lifetime of entertainment on a teensy wittle phone that only requires one to merely wave his hand across in order to answer said overpriced, soon-outdated phone, then they can remedy this. Chop chop!