Friday! What a concept! How does this keep happening! Today has been about groceries. One dear friend was beset by the chore this morning, frustrated but generous towards all; my friends in New York are dealing with the awfulness of Fairway filing for bankruptcy and closing some of its locations, even when theirs is the only grocery store serving an entire neighbourhood. I had been putting off doing groceries for days, but today, nourished by dreams of making
I drive to groceries, and I have grown to like them more and more over the years. There is something so freeing, so powerful about just being able to walk into a grocery store and just CHOOSE what you'll have for dinner. It does not make for the best planned meals, of course... but it's so relaxing, in a weird way!
When I lived in Waterloo, I was 30 minutes walking from the closest grocery store (I did not own a car). I rarely cooked, and strongly identified as someone who does not cook.
When I moved to Vancouver, my new place was a whopping *1 minute* from the closest grocery store. A small, intimate location with earthy-smelling produce. Cooking is now something I do regularly, with great joy.
A friend once advised me that I would be far more motivated to learn to play the guitar, if I had a sweet sounding one, and I am beginning to see the wisdom in that. I think we undervalue how much our external circumstances affect our behaviour.
I walk. Either to Vitellio’s which is close and where some of the people who work there smile at me and which is right by the place we drop our laundry. Or sometimes to Trader Joe’s—more of a haul, always crowded, but good prices and things there one can’t always get elsewhere. But I’ve always taken comfort in my “Grocesseys”—my epic quests—ever since living alone in Chicago. I love food, being around it, anticipating recipes or entertaining, controlling calorie intake, buying it as gifts—all of it.
I don't drive. When we first moved into this house, everybody else assured me that they would give me a ride to the grocery store any time at all. I had ended up cooking for all of us for a complex array of reasons. But I turned out to be a control freak about groceries. I want them when I wanted them. So I took the bus to a good store and just got them myself. The bus system did not assist me in this, in that I could get OFF the bus right at the corner of the grocery-store parking lot, but when I wanted to get back ON the bus in the opposite direction, I had to lug everything across two busy streets. The drivers were not allowed to let anybody ride around the end of the route, which was just a few blocks off.
I did the shopping this way for about five years. One day I was having an awful time getting my stuff on and off the bus, and had to stop halfway from home to rest. What was the matter with me, I fumed. When I got home, a thought struck me, and I took all the grocery bags and backpacks and carts into the bathroom and weighed it all on the bathroom scale. Ninety pounds. Oooookay.
A delivery company started offering online ordering and delivery not long after, and I pounced on it. That company went out of business, was revived by a different company, and finally decided that delivering in the Twin Cities was too much work, so they dumped us all on Cub and Instacart. I am still working out how to do Instacart -- I mean, I order things and mostly they show up when I ask for them to do so, but there are WRINKLES -- and I am concerned about how they treat their shoppers and drivers.
I do a menu plan every Sunday or Monday and buy what I need for the dishes I want to make, but I also make sure there are lots of canned beans, frozen vegetables, rice and pasta and couscous, and always always always garlic and onions and potatoe,. and dry herbs and spices. Then I can improvise. I tend to get bored and break out and make complicated things that take hours. Mostly they are good, but sometimes they are not. If I do find a simple recipe, it's a serious struggle not to make it better by adding things not actually called for in the recipe. I can't seriously believe that a recipe with no onion it is, well, serious, if it's savory at all.
I drive to groceries, and I have grown to like them more and more over the years. There is something so freeing, so powerful about just being able to walk into a grocery store and just CHOOSE what you'll have for dinner. It does not make for the best planned meals, of course... but it's so relaxing, in a weird way!
When I lived in Waterloo, I was 30 minutes walking from the closest grocery store (I did not own a car). I rarely cooked, and strongly identified as someone who does not cook.
When I moved to Vancouver, my new place was a whopping *1 minute* from the closest grocery store. A small, intimate location with earthy-smelling produce. Cooking is now something I do regularly, with great joy.
A friend once advised me that I would be far more motivated to learn to play the guitar, if I had a sweet sounding one, and I am beginning to see the wisdom in that. I think we undervalue how much our external circumstances affect our behaviour.
I walk. Either to Vitellio’s which is close and where some of the people who work there smile at me and which is right by the place we drop our laundry. Or sometimes to Trader Joe’s—more of a haul, always crowded, but good prices and things there one can’t always get elsewhere. But I’ve always taken comfort in my “Grocesseys”—my epic quests—ever since living alone in Chicago. I love food, being around it, anticipating recipes or entertaining, controlling calorie intake, buying it as gifts—all of it.
I don't drive. When we first moved into this house, everybody else assured me that they would give me a ride to the grocery store any time at all. I had ended up cooking for all of us for a complex array of reasons. But I turned out to be a control freak about groceries. I want them when I wanted them. So I took the bus to a good store and just got them myself. The bus system did not assist me in this, in that I could get OFF the bus right at the corner of the grocery-store parking lot, but when I wanted to get back ON the bus in the opposite direction, I had to lug everything across two busy streets. The drivers were not allowed to let anybody ride around the end of the route, which was just a few blocks off.
I did the shopping this way for about five years. One day I was having an awful time getting my stuff on and off the bus, and had to stop halfway from home to rest. What was the matter with me, I fumed. When I got home, a thought struck me, and I took all the grocery bags and backpacks and carts into the bathroom and weighed it all on the bathroom scale. Ninety pounds. Oooookay.
A delivery company started offering online ordering and delivery not long after, and I pounced on it. That company went out of business, was revived by a different company, and finally decided that delivering in the Twin Cities was too much work, so they dumped us all on Cub and Instacart. I am still working out how to do Instacart -- I mean, I order things and mostly they show up when I ask for them to do so, but there are WRINKLES -- and I am concerned about how they treat their shoppers and drivers.
I do a menu plan every Sunday or Monday and buy what I need for the dishes I want to make, but I also make sure there are lots of canned beans, frozen vegetables, rice and pasta and couscous, and always always always garlic and onions and potatoe,. and dry herbs and spices. Then I can improvise. I tend to get bored and break out and make complicated things that take hours. Mostly they are good, but sometimes they are not. If I do find a simple recipe, it's a serious struggle not to make it better by adding things not actually called for in the recipe. I can't seriously believe that a recipe with no onion it is, well, serious, if it's savory at all.