As a college student, I used to buy Michelina’s Budget Gourmet all the time. And I only ate one variety–some sort of lasagna, which was always 99 cents for a serving. I enjoyed the flavor, it was cheap, and it was fast–in other words, it suited a college kid’s needs perfectly. So when my son starting bouncing around last week begging for macaroni and cheese, I decided to give my old standby, Michelina’s, a try.
At $1.39, it was reasonably affordable. It was not as good of a bargain as the boxed mac and cheese–but I figured that since the Michelina’s was frozen, it would be creamier and tastier. Well, my figuring was wrong.
The Michelina’s Macaroni and Cheese smelled great right out of the microwave–but that’s where the experience took a nose-dive. Despite the rich and cheesy aroma, the taste left a lot to be desired. The flavor had what I would describe a chemical-like quality–and it was pretty bland, on top of that.
Wondering at the reason for the poor flavor, I examined the Michelina’s package–and discovered a tiny square that talked about their taste guarantee. They didn’t say what they’d do if you didn’t like the product–but I decided to contact them via their website, anyway.
Within 2 days of sending Michelina’s an email explaining the problem, they responded with an emailed apology. They also informed me that they were sending me coupons. Five days later, I received a letter from Michelina’s–repeating the apology and including three coupons for free entree items. Although the correspondence was obviously a form-letter with my name and a couple of other sentences plugged in, they ultimately did right by me. I paid for one entree I didn’t like, and they sent me three for free. And their super fast response to my concern told me that they really did care about me as a customer.
So assuming my freebies are reasonably tasty, all’s forgiven. (Assuming, of course, that the chemical taste didn’t come from a slow-acting poison . . .)