This post is about Stouffer’s Dinner Club.  It’s a reward program that allows people to accumulate points that they can then cash in for various goodies.

But before we start getting into the details of this little kickback for frozen food fanatics, I gotta get one thing off my chest.

Who actually eats enough of this stuff to ever generate enough points to get anything?  Seriously, who eats any of these ice blocks containing mis-flavored food-like substances more than once?

A few weeks ago, we were in need of a few easy meals due to a particularly hectic week at Casa de Lampsen.  While wandering the aisles of my local supermarket in search of something a half-trained chimp could make with a single turn of an oven dial, I spotted these Stouffer’s frozen lasagnas.  I vaguely remembered some former friend, co-worker or random mental patient vouching for the yumminess of these things, so I bought one.

Two days later, I decided not to trust my sense of smell.  Despite the vaguely sick scent through the entire home, I decided to take a bite of the once-frozen lasagna.  The seasoning was on par with what you’d expect in an old age home.  The noodles were too soft and very mealy.  The sauce tasted suspiciously like low-grade tomato soup.  The cheese was flavorless and the “meat” was hard to find and equally hard to taste.

We bought a big frozen brick of something, but it sure didn’t taste like a decent lasagna.

Sorry to wander off the point, but I didn’t want anyone to get too enthused about Stouffer’s reward program without first understanding what they might actually end up buying.  If I had the choice, I’d rather stuff my face with a little Soylent Green before subjecting myself to the horrors of frozen dining again.

But if I had liked it, I could’ve scored a little credit with Stouffer’s.  I could have ripped open the box to find a little code and a point total for my purchase.  I could’ve taken that code, went to the Stouffer’s Dinner Club website, logged into my account and typed in the code.  The good purveyors of icy sustenance would then credit my account with a few points in exchange for my lousy meal.  If I did that over and over again, I could eventually earn enough points to get something neat from their catalog.

Like what?

Well, like coupons to save a whopping $1 if I decided to buy three more Stouffer’s products.  How’s that for starters?  I know, not so impressive.  There are other options.  You can buy a magazine subscription or a DVD.  You can snag a reusable shopping bag or movie tickets.  To their credit, the Stouffer’s people will also let you donate your points to charity.

The exchange rate between dollars spent on frozen chow and your points isn’t that great, but it’s not like Stouffer’s is jacking up their prices on frozen stuffed peppers that much to make this happen, so I can’t really fault them for that.  It is what it is.  If you eat a lot of this stuff and are willing to rip open boxes, copy codes, do data entry, etc. you can get some freebies out of the whole deal.

Me?  I’ll pass.  I don’t need the stuff they’re giving away all that much.  Even if I did, I would prefer to skip supper and save the money to buy it before I’d willingly dine on another frozen lasagna.

Apparently, though, Stouffer’s has a fan club.  Some people like the stuff.  And for them, this might be a great opportunity to get a little lagniappe in exchange for their loyalty.