Like so many other late night dinners, tonight's would begin with the peeling back of film to expose potatos. Frozen microwave cuisine, while somewhat lowbrow, is far from beneath me. I, who have survived for 8 months on Totinos Party Pizza alone, consider myself something of an expert on the subject. When I resume schooling, perhaps I could get a 4 year degree in the field. But I digress. What I have documented tonight is a phenomenon common to most boxed microwave meals. Here we see the package. Printed on it is a presumably realistic photograph of the food contained within, after preparation. The appearance of the food would lead me to describe it as "yummy and abundant". Indeed, it nearly overflows the platter.

To the right, we see the food as actually prepared. In this case, the microwave method was used. On some pre-fab meals, we are warned that the conventional oven-using method results in the superior meal. Not so for this particular selection. Clearly, it has come out reasonably well: the potatos have a typical gloopy texture (as opposed to grainy or chalky, as u-wave mashed potatos frequently are) and the chicken is at least a little juicy. The packaging even states, "NOW! Juicier White Meat Chicken". The use of the comparative implies a second subject to be compared to; we must assume it is either a competitor's piece of chicken, or an earlier, inferior version of this product, as the "NOW!" seems to indicate (i.e. focus groups showed that current juice-levels were negatively affecting sales, prompting juiciness-enhancement). While the food's bulk does not quite overwhelm the plate, as seen on the box, it does fill out a respectable plot of real estate.

However, as shown to the left, this is not a regular sized dinner plate. It is actually a tea-saucer. With few exceptions, we are led to assume that the amount or size of the items contained in a typical TV-dinner are much larger than they wind up being on the table. There is possibly a discreet industry which supplies food marketing departments with miniature-sized flatware, possibly even tables, kitches, and housewives. I don't feel deceived or cheated by the packaging, though. The manufacturers are free to use whatever size props they choose, of course. I just hadn't thought about the fact that they must have either some very big chicken on the photo stage, or plates that resemble drink coasters or perhaps very large coins. I want to acquire some; I'm sure they would make my meals seem more impressive. Related project: figure out where cereal box-front photographers buy the elastic milk-esque liquid that explodes out of the bowl when even slightly disturbed.