Readers note that since this was published – over 4 years ago – Weetabix has changed its packaging and many of the crumbly woes detailed herein are no longer experienced.
Picture the scene. It’s breakfast time and you’re gagging for some. But as you root in the cupboard where you keep the cereal you remember that today is the day. It’s the day to open a new packet of Weetabix. How you’ve dreaded and yet so expertly denied its approach, gaily declaring there’s granola at hand, or that muesli could, somehow, be a regular feature! Enough procrastination and prevarication. Enough flim-flam. It’s time to tackle that job!
Here then, is your unofficial guide to opening a packet of Weetabix and preparing the storage of contents for regular consumption.
Good start! Tackle each interior packet individually, making use of the crumb tray provided. Begin by standing the packet upright, as shown, this gives you greater visual access to any possible entry points, whilst impressing upon the packet your superior height. The red circle indicates there’s already a potential way in!
False! There’s no way in here. It’s just the play of the morning light upon the filmy labial folds of the packet top.
Return the packet to the horizontal and inspect all along its length, feeling gently along all edges as you do so. Allow your fingertips to ‘read’ the packet. What is it saying to you? Eventually, a tell-tale ‘crimp’ reveals itself. Is this a way in?
Success! Although not where, or how, we expect it. So often the case in life. A simple ‘worrying’ of an already-weakened crease is where we now apply our attention and our energies, and within eight minutes we have created a small ‘wound’ and exposed the packet’s contents.
Prostrate on the crumb tray (the packet, not us), we work the now semi-compliant film backwards. We should always pull, gently, towards ourselves, whilst applying enough downward pressure to keep the packet as stationary as possible – similar to that used in holding down a young cat. Our red circle warns us to stay focussed on that free edge, possibly now in its most hazardous phase, crumb-wise. Be alert for it ‘back-lashing’, or ‘whipping’.
Good progress, but let caution and anxiety be your watchwords. The red circle on the right indicates rapid biscuit corrosion, most probably brought on by the slight vibrations transferring from your body to the work surface and crumb tray. Radio and wi-fi signals can also cause disintegration. On the left, the red circle alerts us not to be complacent of any apparent ‘neat edges’ in the packet’s behaviour; these are no guarantee of pack integrity, and are often indicators of future problems.
Note how the ‘lead’ biscuits on the right are now in a stage of advanced flakeage, whilst their packmates on the left appear more robust. Consider now how these differing characteristics might be shared equitably across the household, or, if living alone, what ‘grade’ of biscuit might meaningfully be matched to a mood, for example?
What we’re looking at now is something we might like to think of as a kind of ‘tax’ on our activity. And as with any tax, our best and only defence is to be ready for it! But however you look at it, don’t put this stuff out for the birds. They don’t go for it. Same with some leftover red lentils I put out a few weeks back.
What the ‘Ta-Da!’ sound was invented for! Our Weetabix biscuits are now stored in a stunning vintage branded tin (a proper old one, not from TKMaxx). The clever transparent ‘freezer bags’, selected for their pliable and ‘anti-lashing’ edges, permit convenient and repeated entry (perfect for daily breakfasts), and also afford us handy visual access to the biscuits themselves and ongoing symptoms of excessive crumbage and product decay.
Step 10… Sweep the floor and enjoy a delicious, nutritious and hassle-free breakfast!