TO: Paul Polman, CEO

Dear Mr. Polman,

I hope you can help me.

You are in charge of a massive, multinational food and detergent company. So I understand that you are a very busy man. My problem, while small compared to all of the things you must worry about every day, is of dire importance to me.

I have been a fan of your Ragu line of pasta sauces for many years.

Specifically, I love your Ragu Robusto™ Six Cheese Pasta Sauce.

More specifically, I love to have sex with your Ragu Robusto™ Six Cheese Pasta Sauce.

Yes, I am a salsaphile—someone who is stimulated by tomato-based sauces or purées. Yes, it is very real. The DSM-IV-TR (psychiatry’s literal Bible) almost refers to it several times.

For years, I have loved Ragu Six Cheese. A fine purée and creamy balance of cheeses, lovingly microwaved for 45 seconds, has been my companion for so many otherwise lonely nights. In fact, two years ago I broke off my relationships with all other sauces and decided to see Ragu Six exclusively. After a final, lingering kiss with Newman’s Own Cabernet Marinara, I and Ragu Six were free to begin the next stage of our life together.

Then, disaster.

Some bean counter in your accounting department must have decided to cut costs. Suddenly, one Saturday evening, Ragu Six changed. The viscosity was off. The skin-feel was different. I looked down into my specially designed bowl and didn’t recognize the sauce staring back up at me.

You might think that I am an isolated case, some lone “weirdo” with a grudge. Not true! The forum at NoShameTomato.org is on fire with dozens of complaints from folks who also preferred the amorous texture of the previous formula. Those are complaints from many different people who are definitely not me.

Mr. Polman, I understand that you are probably not sexually aroused by a liquified Burpee Super Italian. But, please, I beg that you go back to the old recipe. Give me back the sauce I once loved so much.

Best regards,

Special introduction by Matthew “Frenchish” Latkiewicz.

Also: Hidden Mickey and the eighth dwarf; a new kind of trust exercise and restaurant; Blueberry Morning; untenable stuff; Mexico is full of 200W bulbs and Concord Grape Pop Tarts; Maximum White Creme Pomade; writing to the CEO; ungrippable body wash; Action Line with the Wet Man; Depression-era food; welcome to The Jungle; brokavore gourmet; the CEO of Can; a handful of gravel; generics.