"Human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together - mass hysteria."

Thoughts while shopping (doesn’t that sound like one of those old Jack Handy things?):

Why is it I go to the store for the basics – milk, bread, eggs, bananas – and come home with over a hundred bucks worth of groceries? How does this happen? And since I have stopped buying my beloved Green & Black’s chocolate bars – because when you can’t fit into your running clothes, you must do something drastic - it is not that.

Half a blueberry bagel on the floor? Looks very like some weird sort of slug, if you are not quite awake yet and you chose to go to the grocery store without the Starbucks in it, so you are forced to do the grocery shopping without that vital cup of Colombian blood. (Don’t ask.)

Apparently the shopping carts at the new fancy-schmancy grocery store have homing devices or something – they all bear giant signs informing you that they CANNOT be taken past the perimeter of Giant Eagle property. Or else. Or else what? They implode? Chew their cyanide caplets? What?

The new Giant Eagle doughnut section has French crullers. Despite the not-fitting-into-my-running-clothes issue, I bought and ate two. I haven’t laid eyes on a Dunkin’ Donuts – the only doughnut place I know of that makes crullers - since moving to this Midwestern doughnut desert. And yes, I know we are overrun with Krispy Kreme now, but I only like the plain Krispy Kremes, and those really only when I am drunk and it is three o’clock in the morning. In fact, the last time I ate a Krispy Kreme – and under those exact circumstances – was with the Rogue Librarian and some other folks, lo, these many eons ago, before he moved halfway across the world. I wager they do not have Krispy Kreme in Thailand, RL? So you could argue it would be worse? But still, here? – no Dunkin’ Donuts, no diners-on-every-corner, people putting lettuce and tomatoes on cheesesteaks. It’s as wrong as Pepsi Slurpees.

I would argue that you could conceivably put the Hebrew National hot dogs in both the kosher section AND the hot dog section and NO ONE WOULD MIND.

I also don’t think it’s too much to ask for people to get dressed before grocery shopping. This wearing-your-jammies-in-public trend is most disturbing. I know that brands me as an old crank, but come on, how hard is it to throw on jeans and sneakers? I personally don’t care to know that you sleep in pajamas printed with giant cows-jumping-over-the-moon. I will say this for her - she had taken out her retainer.

Why do I buy bacon every. single. shopping. trip? Admittedly, last week I ate the last of the season’s bacon-tomato-avocado sandwiches (bliss on bread). This weekend I made a vat of Badger’s Baked Potato Soup. And now while brussel sprouts are in season, I eat them roasted with bacon every chance I get. But really, I buy a pound of bacon every time I go to the grocery store. I can only imagine what the insides of my arteries look like.

I don’t mind shopping. I don’t mind planning meals. I don’t particularly mind cooking. But I would gladly pay someone money to unload the groceries from my car, carry them into the house, and put them away in the proper places. I hate doing that even more than I hate vacuuming. And I LOATHE vacuuming. I once lived in the same apartment, with the same roommate, for four years, and I honestly don’t recall vacuuming even once. I am not even sure we owned a vacuum. Maybe he vacuumed surreptitiously, while I was at work or asleep. I honestly don’t know, and I honestly did not care. The apartment was not a pigsty, either; it was a really nice one, as a matter of fact, with built-in bookcases and leaded glass and a porch and ten-foot ceilings; and we kept it fairly clean and it was homey. But were the carpets clean? Couldn’t tell you...

And last but certainly not least, says the woman who ate her way thru France in an apparent attempt to consume her bodyweight in pate, Giant Eagle now carries D'Artagnan pate. I don’t quite know how I feel about this.
And for S – pate is generally “a finely ground or chunky mixture of meats [often from the less desirable parts ] such as liver, and often additional fat, vegetables, herbs, spices, wine and other ingredients.” (Yes, I used Wikipedia for the definition, so sue me.)
Foie gras is specifically goose liver, but you can also make pate from chicken livers (a little Calvados, and bacon – again with the bacon! – yum), or minced pork, or minced veal…or combos of.

And really, truly last, a happy thought: Trader Joe’s opens tomorrow.