Tuna Helper Full Circle

Growing up I was occasionally subjected to Hamburger Helper. It wasn't a staple in our house, but evidently Mom felt compelled to feed it to us every now and then to make us appreciate the from-scratch meals that she usually prepared. By my sophomore year in college, I began to actually learn to cook myself and be somewhat self-sufficient in the kitchen. Sometimes that "cooking" meant preparing Tuna Helper. (I could no longer bear the hamburger version since it involved battling the torment inducing memories of my childhood. Somehow the tuna version was a little more palatable. Don't ask me why.)

Tuna Helper was one of my standard meals. Easy to have on hand. Quick to fix. Not really fulfilling but filling enough, and that's what's important to a college student. Maybe my wife and I had it a few times when we were dating, but eventually we tossed our indulgences of corporate nourishment out the window when we became a little more enlightened in the ways of cuisine.

We fell into the trap (albeit a tasty one) of fine dining on a regular basis, cooking from genuine Italian cookbooks, pairing wines with our food, and seeking out new cheeses. Tuna Helper was officially off the list. And our financial statements had big line items for dining and fancy groceries. Yes, we were young and foolish, at least with food.

Unfortunately, with the advent of kids, Tuna Helper has found its way back on the shelf of our pantry. Two kids often put the brakes on your plans to go grocery shopping or find a brief moment of sanity to make out that grocery list during rudimentary meal planning. Even more depressing than its resurgence is the fact that in our household Tuna Helper has now been replaced with "Tuna Magic," the tempting Kroger brand. (Do you know how much that marketing hoopla adds to the price tag of your Tuna Helper? Mr. Helping Hand evidently has lots of leverage when it comes to renegotiating his contract. I can't taste the difference, but just don't look at the box too long or you'll get queasy. This is an excellent example of the phenomenon that living on one salary really makes you do things you'd never even pondered.)

For all the same reasons it was good for a college student, Tuna Helper/Magic is that perfect oops-we-don't-have-anything-else-in-the-house meal and also that we-can't-go-out-again-because-we-just-bought-a-new-(used)-minivan culinary delight. So it struck me that we have completed what I am calling the Tuna Helper Full Circle. Or at least we've made the first lap around.

The moment of self-realization was quite shocking when I realized that instead of a straight line path, I'm trapped on this circle where Tuna Helper's going to keep popping up throughout my life. I'm not really complaining, just lamenting. But hey, it's worth it. Kids are fun. And they can pick up Tuna Helper noodles with their fingers. It's a sacrifice worth making.

Plus, we're taking advantage of all of the benefits of Tuna Helper as touted by its web site (who actually goes to this web site? "Yes honey, let's see what the latest flavor from Tuna Helper is."):

Tuna Helper is a great-tasting dinner your whole family will love!

Maybe that tagline is a little optimistic. E. loves it, but then she will literally eat anything.

Since circles are innately continuous, I'm hoping that someday, maybe before death, we'll keep going 'round and we'll make it once again to that stage of life where Tuna Helper is a distant memory. Until then, bon appetit kids, and may your sippy cups never run dry.

(Today's stock pick: General Mills, Inc. (GIS), proud owner of the Betty Crocker brand, the home ec queen mastermind behind Tuna Helper. Face it, we're all trapped on the circle. Here's your chance for some ownership of the pie...uh...pile of pasta.)