I have, in my column, instituted a new feature that people may well love to hate. It’s called Picky or Icky. This week I received in the mail a submission so seriously icky I just couldn’t bear to see it in print. It was a handful of pouch meals presented by Bistro something or other. They were so kind to send a bowl emblazoned with their name and logo. Sorry, I donated the bowl to charity before even opening a single meal pouch, which included meatballs and pasta, enough to blur my vision and keep me from even reading the contents of the others.

If you have the sad opportunity to try these yourself and find them glorious taste experiences, feel free to set me straight.