Seriously — Mayochup?

Heinz is encouraging Americans to vote on a question that could affect the tabletops of restaurants throughout the land.

The question is:  do Americans want Heinz to release a new condiment called “Mayochup” — a combination of Heinz Ketchup and Heinz Real Mayonnaise.  If 500,000 people vote yes, Heinz will roll out the new product and send it to stores.

mayochup-1Set aside the sad fact that some Americans have actually taken time from their days to cast their vote on what is clearly a marketing campaign ploy.  In modern, bot-ridden America, you could get 500,000 votes for just about anything.  Come hell or high water, Heinz obviously is going to bring their new condiment to market.

Set aside, too, the fact that the name “mayochup” sounds like some mythical creature that parents use to frighten their misbehaving children in southern Mexico, or the noise made by a barfing cow.  It is a truly awful name for a product.  Just having something called “Mayochup” on a table where food is being consumed is troubling.

And, finally, set aside the fact that “Mayochup” is made with mayonnaise, which is a disgusting, greasy, ugly substance that should never have been invented by the French back in the 1700s in the first place.

No, the worst thing about “Mayochup” is that it shows just how lazy Americans have become.  If some poor, benighted souls like the combination of ketchup and mayonnaise — which really says something disturbing about them, doesn’t it? — they can squirt some ketchup from the ketchup bottle, add some mayonnaise from the mayo jar, mix it up themselves, and go to town.  What’s next for Heinz?  An equally poorly named product called “Ketchtard”?

Advertisements

Serve Him Well, Faithful Steed

Speaking of Richard, he needs a car in Columbia, so our black Acura sedan has now been relocated to Missouri.  I hope that it serves him as faithfully and reliably as it has served us since we bought it almost 10 years ago.

Your car is like mayonnaise — you either love it, or you hate it, and there is no middle ground.  I hate mayonnaise, but I loved the Black Ack.  I loved its graceful lines and comfortable interior, its simple dashboard and its easy to reach knobs and buttons.  I loved its easy handling, its quick burst of acceleration, and its good gas mileage.  And most of all I loved its reliability.  It had a few dings and dents, but when we turned it over to Richard it had 175,000 miles on it and was still going strong.

I drove that car pretty much every day for years, wrote about it in good times and bad, and got to know it like you get to know an old friend.  I’ll miss not seeing it in the driveway, but I’m glad that Richard is inheriting it — because I know he loves that car, too.  When you pass along an heirloom, you want to make sure that the recipient cares about it as much as you do.