Something's Fishy - May, 2009

With too much time on my hands and too small pouches of tuna in my cart, I felt obliged to write to Bumble Bee Tuna to express my views. Here is my letter:

Something’s fishy with Bumble Bee Tuna.

Or is this just a corporate downsizing?

I was surprised and disappointed when I went to my local supermarket yesterday and found that the “Individual Size” 3 ounce pouch of Premium Albacore Tuna in Water had morphed into what you are now calling the “Single Serve” 2.5 ounce pouch. Was the “Individual Size” supposed to be more than a single serving? Were people complaining because the 3 ounce size was too large?

Though the amount of tuna in the pouch has diminished, the total fat and the calories from fat have actually increased, from 1.5 grams to 2 grams and from 10 calories to 20 calories, respectively. Naturally, with the decrease in size, the amount of protein has also gone down, from 19 grams to 16 grams. None of this is good news from a nutritional standpoint.

One thing that has not gone down is the cost of the product. Yesterday it was on sale at Stop & Shop for $1.67 a pouch, which is more than I have paid in the past for the larger size. I also couldn’t help but notice the absence of any text on the package trumpeting this new size. Nothing that said, “New, smaller size, same price” appeared anywhere. I was smart enough to immediately spot the difference, and, being a tuna lover and devoted Bumble Bee user, I bought it anyway. But my favorite brand has let me down.

Some background on my 55+ years of brand loyalty is in order (I’m not counting the first 3-4 years of my life, when I can’t say definitively that I ate BBT).

Growing up, I ate Bumble Bee Tuna almost every day for lunch. Back in those days kids walked home from school for lunch, and each day my Bumble Bee Tuna sandwich awaited me. BBT on white bread, no mayo – ever. God forbid my mother ran out of Bumble Bee. She would canvas the neighborhood, begging for a can. Sometimes she was desperate and had to commit the unforgivable sin of borrowing a can of Chicken of the Sea or even – dare I say it ? – Starkist. Blasphemy, I declared (though not with that word; I was too young to know that word at the time). I could tell immediately that the tuna was not Bumble Bee, and before Mom could appeal for mercy, I was checking the garbage can, looking for the miscreant can. I ate Bumble Bee Tuna every day for two years before even I got sick of it and asked for a baloney sandwich one day. The next day I was back to Bumble Bee, and I continued to eat my BBT sandwiches throughout my school days. Maybe that’s why the kids called me Tina Tuna. Not that I minded.

When I went to college, Mom stopped buying so much Bumble Bee. Even the supermarket cashier noticed and asked her about it one day. She explained that I was away at school. Whenever I’d be coming home, she’d restock, and the cashier would always say to her, “Oh, your daughter must be home from college.” And yes, we lived in a small town, with one supermarket.

During my working career, I often brought a can with me and made my own lunch. I couldn’t be sure the tuna our company cafeteria served was Bumble Bee, and I wouldn’t eat any other brand, or – God forbid – tuna salad. Bumble Bee is the only tuna for me. Now I am retired, and when I am around the house for lunch, only one thing pops into my mind: A Bumble Bee Tuna sandwich. Old habits die hard.

So you can see that my lifetime of brand loyalty would lead me to an even greater letdown than the casual Bumble Bee user, knowing that the diminished size of the product means less of it to enjoy. Two packets would definitely be too much for a sandwich, as would the 7 ounce size. (I never like leftover tuna, so opening the larger size and using it twice would be out of the question for me.) I suppose I could scour the local grocery stores and try to corner the market on the 3 ounce size, but I shouldn’t have to resort to that. In the back of my mind, I can’t help feeling disheartened by this diminution. The least you could have done was call me to let me know…

Finally, through my tears and disappointment, I have to ask: Did you really think you were fooling the consumer by calling this the “Single-Serve” size instead of the “Individual Size?” Oh, Bumble Bee, to turn on me after 55 years! I may have to drown my sorrows in a grilled cheese sandwich.