Roger Moroney: Talk about a pea in a biscuit tin

I made tea the other night, and ended up concocting a main course of cynicism.

You won't find it on any menu or in any recipe books, but you'll find many of the ingredients in a supermarket near you.

At first, as I sought the fishy part of the meal in the freezer section, I was simply bemused.

For in a fortnight the packaging had been changed.

Eight very modest-sized pieces of what the manufacturers, Sealord, describe as "tapas" style hoki, coated in a sort of crumb and kumara mix, had previously been in a box half the size.

Now it appeared capable of holding a whole lot more. Perhaps not double the amount ... but maybe 10 pieces would be in there.

But oh no ... for when I opened this impressively large box, there were still just eight little slabs of fish inside.

I surmised that this was not hoki packaged away in that extensive package ... it was fresh marketing.

Ridiculous.

All that cardboard and bright ink, for contents which would fit into something a third of the size.

And so I fired them into the oven and set to unpacking the Diamond rice risotto.

It too delivered a fresh taste of that product known as marketing "ploy".

The sachet of rice and the smaller sachet of flavouring would easily fit into a box two-thirds the size ... but then that would look far too small to the buyer.

Best shove it into something which looked like you were getting a real big deal here.

I have no qualms about the contents, they are just dandy ... but the packaging is ridiculous.

All about appearance ... for on a supermarket shelf or freezer size is very clearly everything.

We had some muesli bars in the cupboard ... six in a box which could so easily hold six more.

Oh, and the tin of baked beans which, when opened, was brim to the top ... until you tipped the sauce out and discovered the actual beans only came halfway up the tin.

Then there was the box of little savoury bikky bites called "Shapes".

Tasty little treats, made tastier when dipped in anything from the correctly packed dips on the cooler shelves. The thing with dips is they are generally in clear containers, and you can see they fit the bill (or punnet to be exact).

That is a good thing.

It is the "invisibles" - those items in silly big "buy me" boxes which need to be treated with suspicion.

And so, the "Shapes" were packed within a sealed, airtight, foil bag, which filled the box.

Until it was opened.

The air rushed out and all the little bikky bites settled into the bottom two-thirds of the box. Why so much air in there?

Huntley and Palmers - there's another company which has been brushed by the need to use up more cardboard than is required.

Their nice wholegrain crackers were happily and safely sealed in a box easily 4cm longer than it had to be.

I'm on a roll now, and feel a freeze coming on.

Wander through the frozen section and check out the large plastic packages containing things such as potato wedges and anything concealed by the colourful wrapping around them. They feel as if someone has helped themselves to several handfuls of the contents already.

It is all about image.

All about perception.

All about seeing a large package and being seduced by it.

Of course there's nothing wrong with the product or the concept, as the contents are sold by weight, which is clearly marked on the package.

But it gets really amusing when you wander through the old dunny paper section.

I've seen impressively sized rolls bound together in great, and seemingly bargain-like, bundles ... until you take a close look at their cores.

Some of those cardboard cylinders at their cores appear large enough to put your hand through.

And is it my imagination, and am I mistaken ... but are some loaves of wrapped bread starting to appear smaller than they were maybe a year or two ago?

Don't call me Mr Consumer or Mr Chef, call me Mr Cynical.

If your product measures 10cm by 15cm then put it in a box that size.

Contents, when shaken, can be allowed to rattle a little but most I've come across in the past week practically leave echoes.

What a silly state of affairs, and to detune my cynicism I shall simply have to spend more time in the sections where beverages come in bottles.

Never had any worries there.

Roger Moroney is an award-winning journalist for Hawke's Bay Today and observer of the slightly off-centre.