Tomato and Basil, the tin read reasonably – and even appealingly.

Two hundred grams of tinned tuna – Tomato and Basil.

I envisaged it on toast – and turned my vision into action.

The toast was made and butter applied. A mouthful was tasted. And tasted like… liquorice.

Liquorice.

Interesting – and then all at once… appalling.

I’m actually an unfussy eater. I eat things fairly indiscriminately. I’ve been known to eat things that aren’t particularly fresh and things that aren’t particularly tasty. I am – by all reasonable standards – unfussy.

But liquorice-tasting tuna? Appalling.

Another mouthful? Just to satiate my hunger? I actually… physically…. can’t.

At the moment my wife and I don’t have too much money. We making efforts not to be wasteful and we’re certainly not wasting food. So another mouthful? Perhaps it will improve? I tried another mouthful. It didn’t.

I rid the plate of it. I rid myself of it. And I idly wondered. I idly wondered whether the manufacturers meant to make liquorice tuna, were bent on evil intent, on this unsound, unhealthy and deeply disturbing combination of flavours.

Tomato and Basil, they innocently maintained. My palette knew the truth. My lofty ideals of waste not, want not evolved into basic self-preservation.

I still like tuna, and the opportunity to try it with different flavourings. But this experience haunts me. Now when I next survey supermarket stacks of tuna tins, my heart whispers caution. And I remember .