Dear Gorton’s,
I realize that I have only myself to blame for trusting the Gorton’s fisherman. He just looked so, well, seaworthy. Nobody twisted my arm to take advantage of the buy one get one free store coupon for your Premium Tilapia Filets. I can tell you though, that when I discovered that one package with five pieces of fish cost $10.99, I wouldn’t have bought them without it. Admittedly, overpricing can be effective. Having been raised on the old adage “you get what you pay for”, I did briefly think “wow, this must be really good to have a price this high”.
You billed your tilapia as “five star extra large fillets”. The Five Star had a little trademark sign next to it, so I guess that if anyone else ever gets tempted to call their fish five star good, they’ll think twice. Your tilapia may well have been five star good, but there was so little of it within the soggy inner layer of breading beneath the crispy outer layer of breading that I couldn’t tell.
My advice would be to begin touting the excellence of your bread rather than your fish, because there is far more of it in this product. Sadly, due to the coupon, after discovering that actually tasting the fish would require a complex and time-consuming surgical process to remove the double layers of breading, I realized that I’d have to do the same thing with the “fish” in the other package.
I am accepting this experience as punishment for being lazy, thinking that it would be easier to just put something into the oven for a few minutes than to buy my own fresh fish, season it, and cook it on the stove-top. That would have been heavenly, compared to the burns I received trying to remove enough hot bread to be able to taste the fish before it got cold. Now, don’t panic, I’m not going to get a lawyer. I ran some cold water over my fingers, and they were fine.
In fact, I am writing to thank you for this experience—it has taught me several valuable lessons. The first lesson is—fast food really isn’t fast. I could have seasoned and seared my own fish in less than the 25 minutes it took to defrost and heat your processed fish. The second lesson I’m taking to heart is that I’m worth the effort of shopping for, seasoning, and cooking my own delicious food rather than depending on a stranger in a yellow raincoat—no matter how attractive his beard. Finally, I’ve learned the folly of that stupid old adage---you don’t always get what you pay for.
Copyright © 2014 by Andrea L. Walker
All rights reserved. This article or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the writer
except for the use of brief quotations.
I realize that I have only myself to blame for trusting the Gorton’s fisherman. He just looked so, well, seaworthy. Nobody twisted my arm to take advantage of the buy one get one free store coupon for your Premium Tilapia Filets. I can tell you though, that when I discovered that one package with five pieces of fish cost $10.99, I wouldn’t have bought them without it. Admittedly, overpricing can be effective. Having been raised on the old adage “you get what you pay for”, I did briefly think “wow, this must be really good to have a price this high”.
You billed your tilapia as “five star extra large fillets”. The Five Star had a little trademark sign next to it, so I guess that if anyone else ever gets tempted to call their fish five star good, they’ll think twice. Your tilapia may well have been five star good, but there was so little of it within the soggy inner layer of breading beneath the crispy outer layer of breading that I couldn’t tell.
My advice would be to begin touting the excellence of your bread rather than your fish, because there is far more of it in this product. Sadly, due to the coupon, after discovering that actually tasting the fish would require a complex and time-consuming surgical process to remove the double layers of breading, I realized that I’d have to do the same thing with the “fish” in the other package.
I am accepting this experience as punishment for being lazy, thinking that it would be easier to just put something into the oven for a few minutes than to buy my own fresh fish, season it, and cook it on the stove-top. That would have been heavenly, compared to the burns I received trying to remove enough hot bread to be able to taste the fish before it got cold. Now, don’t panic, I’m not going to get a lawyer. I ran some cold water over my fingers, and they were fine.
In fact, I am writing to thank you for this experience—it has taught me several valuable lessons. The first lesson is—fast food really isn’t fast. I could have seasoned and seared my own fish in less than the 25 minutes it took to defrost and heat your processed fish. The second lesson I’m taking to heart is that I’m worth the effort of shopping for, seasoning, and cooking my own delicious food rather than depending on a stranger in a yellow raincoat—no matter how attractive his beard. Finally, I’ve learned the folly of that stupid old adage---you don’t always get what you pay for.
Copyright © 2014 by Andrea L. Walker
All rights reserved. This article or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the writer
except for the use of brief quotations.