Thursday, October 26, 2006

"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.


Joke said...

D'Artagnan is good stuff.


P.S. What you need is a slab of bacon.

Gingers Mom said...

If you ever figure out the secret of going grocery shopping and not piling in all the yummy fattening stuff just for good measure, let me know.

Badger said...

Get out of my head some more, you! I just got home from the grocery store, where I went WITHOUT A LIST, because I only needed one box of cereal, a bag of salad greens, and some pork chops. I came home $50 poorer with like six bags of groceries. WTF?!

I think you should just raise pigs. Or maybe I should raise pigs. I'm currently reading Kitty Fitzgerald's Pigtopia and if that doesn't put me off bacon, which it hasn't, then nothing ever will.

Amy said...

the most amazing part of grocery shopping to me is going (with or without a list) coming home with four or five times the amount of stuff you went for and within the HOUR of arriving home, you will run out of something. I hate that. And if you find someone to unload your car and put away groceries, please let me know. Maybe I'll put that on my list of qualities for my next husband!

Katy said...

The grocery cart wheels lock up and don't work, if you take them past the line. Its supposed to cut down on grocery cart theft.

Anonymous said...

I am so with you on the vacuuming and grocery shopping. I died and went to heaven when I found out that Stop and Shop here has online shopping and delivery right to your kitchen for 6.95.

And bacon - food of the gods. Fat gods. But those are the best gods. Who would trust a skinny god?

lazy cow said...

My husband the Carnivore said he could go vegetarian, as long as he could eat bacon. I tend to agree. I'm trying to picture your mid-Western supermarkets: coffee shops IN the supermarket? Be-pyjama'd people shopping? Bizarre.

Suse said...

I too am seriously perturbed about the pyjama clad shoppers. When I lived in the US, people didn't even go to the letterbox without first applying a full face of makeup and feathering their permed hair. Your country has clearly gone to the dogs since my departure.

(Yes, it was 1982 now that you ask.)

Also, do your grocery shopping online. Shopped and delivered to your door for $4.95 (here). All you have to do is unpack it. And you get the kids to do that.

hungry in LA said...

I once attended a late night bacon party thrown by a bunch of grips. The first good indication was the guy passed out in his truck at the foot of the driveway, whether from an overindulgence from bacon or beer I never found out. Oh if only you didn't live so far away...

I am going to investigate this online shopping thing immediately. Can you imagine if Trader Joe's did it??

Kathy said...

I also hate the pyjama clad shoppers; I do not understand what they can't at least put some kind of clothes that aren't pyjamas on. Do they think we can't tell they are in their pyjamas?

That bacon, tomato, and avocado sandwich sounds like heaven. BLTs also always look and sound wonderful to me. My only problem is I don't like bacon or tomatoes.

Rogue Librarian said...

You ever go into a grocery store and try and leave without buying anything? You can’t do it. It’s just not possible. I always have that thought when I’m in the grocery store, “You know I’m gonna need this eventually and I don’t want to have to come back.” It’s as if the store was in Portugal in stead of a block from my house.

You are correct in your assumption that there are no Krispy Kremes in Thailand. In fact the pastries here suck. Of course last time I was in the states I passed a KK shop…. My arteries clogged just driving by.