I must have been blinded by hunger while shopping for groceries today, because I mistakenly picked up a bag of cherry-flavored Craisins in lieu of the regular dried cranberries.
I'm sorry? Cherry-flavored dried cranberries? What's wrong with cranberry-flavored cranberries? Sure, I understood when Sunsweet started spritzing prunes with essence of lemon. Prunes are brown and drab, and they had become the perennial butt of constipation jokes. They clearly have an image problem, so if a little dab of citrus and a splash of yellow on the packaging helps eliminate the laxative stigma, I say spritz away. Or change your name to dried plums. Whatever works for you.
But cranberries, what have you got to be embarrassed about? Sure, there's the slightly delicate business about being good for yeast infections. But it's not like you've become synonymous with all things vaginal. And if you had, do you really think adding a cherry on the package helps matters? The extra flavor just gives you a slight hint of desperation—and cough syrup.
In the craven world of brand extensions, what's next? Orange-flavored grapefruit? Sprite-flavored Coke? Lettuce-flavored salad?
And so, Bites readers, I pose the question to you. Your next challenge in the quest for free Iron Fork tickets is to come up with the most absurdly redundant flavor layering.
And don't try saying bacon-flavored bacon. That would be just plain ridiculous.