Fignale

One final act in my consumadrama: a letter from the dried fruit packing company responsible for the unidentified metal object in my figs. Quite a respectable concern by all accounts: royal warrants if you please. By Previous Appointment to The Late Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother 1971-2007. I’m not sure I’d use a deceased Royal to champion my comestibles but there you are.

Under this impressive letterhead, the Previously Appointed Manufacturers of Provisions and Dried Fruit describe in bewildering detail the entire sorting, grading and packing procedure. Multiple paragraphs explain such mysteries as infestation parameters, blancher infeed platforms, vibratory screens, non-ferrous test pieces and due diligence. It’s not just the technical syntax which is confusing: the product in question seems to change from fig to prune and back again throughout the process. Form-letter induced transmogrification, perhaps?

The message so subtly conveyed between these densely-typed lines is, of course, “WE DON’T BELIEVE YOU FOR A SECOND”.

I’m not really offended. I suppose there are people who spend their days opening packets of food and inserting bits of hardware in the hope of a juicy payout. It does seem rather a lot of trouble, but I can’t deny that I’ve made a profit from my complaint. Attached to the letter was a postal order for ten pounds.

Hush now.