Triples.

Sausages barely move as a category. A round of ingredient innovation a decade or so back, pork and leek, pork and apple, a slow drift toward "clean deck" recipes, but the pack itself never changed. Six sausages, cook them all, usually eat four, the rest goes in the bin. One flavour, whether that's right for everyone eating them or not.

Every brand, however different the recipe, agreed on the format: a flat pack of six, built for a family shape that doesn't match how people actually shop any more, more single households, more people wanting variety, not volume.

How do you sausage?

Not a new recipe. A new question. Three sausages, not six, held together by the natural knuckle-twist of the links themselves. Buy two flavours for the price of a six-pack instead of committing to one. Less left over. Less binned. A triangular pack instead of a flat one, built around the shape three sausages actually make. No artificial additives, Red Tractor certified, 29% protein, and the name carries its own small joke on pack, TRIPL3S, the middle letter flipped into the number.

Not cannibalisation, Triples sits entirely apart from the Porky Whites range, its own name, its own story, no shared shelf logic to protect. The real cost was committing to something the category had no precedent for: new packaging engineering for a shape nobody else packs sausages in, and a look with no heritage story to lean on at all, bright pink, contemporary, built to stand out rather than reassure.

Triples was set to launch into a limited run of Tesco convenience stores. Tesco liked it enough to list it nationwide across their main stores instead, before the product had even properly launched.