Now You See It, Now You Don’t

Elizabeth Willis Barrett

I must have very different tastes than the world’s majority because the things I absolutely love are often wiped off the market like a dish cloth wiping up and discarding crumbs.  For instance, I love Cinnamon Goldfish.  They are delicious and semi-healthy since someone discovered that cinnamon can remedy cholesterol, arthritis, yeast infections and cancer.  Every Wednesday I used to check the grocery ads just to see if the Pepperidge Farm Goldfish were on sale that week.  If they were, I would run to Fry’s or even out of my way to Bashas to pick up 10 to 20 bags.

Just when I had made Cinnamon Goldfish my snack of choice, they disappeared.  I couldn’t find them anywhere.  Each store seemed to have every other flavor like Pizza, Cheddar, Vanilla Cupcake, and Cookies and Cream but even my kind request to the various managers didn’t bring my Cinnamon Fishies back.  Finally I decided to go to the source.  I called Pepperidge Farms–the big guys.

“I just wondered,” I asked in a plaintive sort of voice, “where I could find your delicious Cinnamon Goldfish?”

“Oh,” said the very kind and young and congenial phone answerer, “we don’t make those anymore.”

“Really?” I was animated.  “Why?”

She didn’t give me an answer so I thanked her and hung up. Maybe cinnamon got too expensive.  Maybe it messed up their machines.  Maybe I am the only one who likes Cinnamon Fishies.  At least now I don’t have to scour every store I enter looking for them since I know they won’t be there.  I’ve had to resort to Cinnamon Teddy Grahams but they’re not nearly as good in my opinion.

There was a little restaurant on Main Street in Mesa that had the most fabulous Chicken Fettucini.  That was probably the best meal I had eaten up to that point, excluding my mom’s enchiladas.  When I went back for more, the restaurant was closed down.  Obviously their recipes weren’t loved by everyone.  I wish I could taste that meal one more time to see if it was as good as I remember.

Another delicious meal that rests in my memory was a chicken orzo dish at Macaroni Grill.  It took me a while to get back there, but when I looked at the menu to decidedly point out that same delicious selection, it wasn’t there.  They had revamped everything.

Then there was the Infusion Shampoo whose formula was perfect for my fine hair.  (Just as a sideline: when I was very young, my aunt told me I had fine hair and I thought that she had given me an exceptional compliment.)  I used that shampoo faithfully until I bought a bottle and could tell immediately that the recipe had been changed.  The new shampoo was creamy instead of clear and my hair had a flat, gloppy reaction to it.  I called that company, too, and was told that they no longer made the shampoo I liked and relied on. I bought twelve bottles of the old shampoo that they happened to have hanging around and started my quest for a new favorite.

I had just gotten accustomed to giving a heavy duty, very nice chef’s knife from IKEA as a wedding gift for the many wedding receptions we are invited to.   When I went back to IKEA to re-stock my gift shelf, the knives were gone and were destined to be gone for several months as they remodeled.  To IKEA’s credit, they did finally bring back the knives after I had to look for several reception substitutes, but they deleted the sugar cookies from their cafeteria that I always looked forward to devouring.

I’m sure that other things have disappeared from my personal market, although in this moment I can’t think of them.  It must be late.  After this essay has posted I’ll think of other favorites that have been terminated. Maybe you can, too.  What do you miss?  What products do you wish hadn’t been discontinued?  I’d love to hear from you.

Now You See It, Now You Don’t: Audio: Read by the Author

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2 comments on “Now You See It, Now You Don’t

  1. Nate Jensen says:

    You’re not even concerned about the demise of the twinkie. You are different than most people. Max always says he’s just like Betts and doesn’t like chocolate. So you’ve got some company at least.

  2. I forgot about the twinkie. Glad I’m not emotionally involved with it! And I couldn’t be in better company than Max’s!

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