Grocery Wars

How did you pick the grocery store you shop at? I'm curious because I am currently rich in grocery stores. As of Wednesday a third supermarket opened up within 2 miles of my home here in the picturesque seaside suburb. We now have the standard big box store, a local market with fresh meat and seafood counters, and a grocery opened as a direct competitor to the Whole Paycheck eight or so miles away in the tony outdoor shopping mall.

I was raised by a fierce woman who did whatever it took to make her meager income work for her and her five kids. This meant clipping coupons and strategically planning the Saturday shopping to ensure she got the best deals for her dollars. If ground beef was $0.03/pound less expensive at Price Chopper than it was at Wegmans my mom would make the special trip to Price Chopper to get the cheaper meat. Marketing was tedious with my mom, often taking hours as we went from one store to the next snapping up the best deals, regardless of cost to one's time or psyche. Once a month or so one or more of us kids were given the task of going through mom's voluminous coupon files and weeding out the expired ones, and putting those that were just about to expire in a special file to be used right away. My mom's pantry, to this day, is filled with canned goods bought on sale because she had a coupon or the sale was too good to pass up.

Growing up relatively poor I've developed a cautious attitude towards money. However, I tend to believe coupons are a waste of time because store brands are almost always cheaper. I don't have the energy to clip, store, and sort coupons. I don't have the space to store mounds of "good deals." I zealously believe that if something is on sale once, it is likely to be on sale again when I need or want it. The net effect is that I tend to favor expedience in my grocery shopping over bargain hunting. That means I'd rather spend $1/pound more for pate' because I like the pate' at Store X and I'd rather not spend 30 minutes driving to the store with the cheaper pate' looking for parking and wasting time and gas.

Now with three grocery stores in such close proximity I find myself reconsidering my shopping attitudes. I'll always go to the big box market - deli-sliced American cheese, yogurt, bread, canned vegetables, cat food, toilet paper, and ice cream will always be cheaper at the big box store.

But what about the two boutique markets? Both are beautiful on the inside - think open market style fruit displays, aromas of fresh roasted coffee, enticing bulk food bins, and beautifully displayed prepared foods. And how do their prices compare? Well, today I went to both and compared prices for the ingredients for cheese fondue. Here is now it stacked up:

Local market - $24.13
1/2 pound of emmenthaler cheese - $8.98
1/2 pound of gruyere cheese - $6.48
1 bottle of white cooking wine - $4.49
1 loaf of French bread - $2.19
1 head of cauliflower - $1.99

Fancy new market - $26.43
1/2 pound of emmenthaler cheese - $8.98
1/2 pound of gruyere cheese - $7.48
1 bottle of white cooking wine - $3.49
1 loaf of French bread - $2.49
1 head of cauliflower - $3.99

By price alone, the local market is the winner. However, if cauliflower hadn't been on sale at the local market ($2 under both the new boutique market and the big box store), the grocery bill for the cheese fondue would have been roughly even.

So how do I decide? The new store has more varieties and sizes of bread than the local market. The new market has bourbon praline pecans in bulk, beautiful flowers, and a more robust wine, craft beer, and organic and international foods section. The new market doesn't require, like the local one does, that I pay for meat and seafood separately (and cash only please). In the local market's favor they have the best snacking prosciutto sliced to order, terrific Italian foods, are a reseller of locally produced candies, cookies and other delicacies. They also have the best salad bar on either side of the Mississippi.

(Have I mentioned that I love going to beautiful grocery stores? It is one of the things I do to relax. A trip to NYC without going to Zabars or Citarellas is beyond me. Whenever I travel grocery stores always make their way to my tourist itinerary. I routinely stop at Wegmans when visiting my family in Central New York - even before I see my mother.)

If I'm to stay true to my "keeping it simple" grocery shopping philosophy how do I pick which store to patron? Even thinking about bopping between three grocery stores to do my weekly-ish shopping gives me hives for its high maintenance implications. Do I abandon the locally owned business in favor of the new, slightly more convenient but globally owned market? Do I plan to price veggies each week online and pick whichever store has the lowest prices, and just trust that the other things I need will come out in the wash?

The values I'm balancing include value, quality, business loyalty, beauty, convenience, and adventure. Which of these do you value most highly in your marketing? In your life?

The new store has been open five days. I think I'm going to wait to decide until the low prices intended to hook consumers go up as I'm told they will. In the meantime, you can find me shuffling between three suburban grocery stores, stalking the aisles for bargains and interesting foods.

How will you celebrate National Cheese Fondue Day?

Thanks to the magic of Twitter I learned that today is National Cheese Fondue Day. Now accepting facts in one's Twitter stream as the gospel truth is like believing everything in Wikipedia is true, so I went to the Web to verify.

And I got distracted by the first web page I found, titled "American Food Holidays." While it also had no references, I became entranced by the more than 600 alleged food holidays. Things like "Lobster Thermidor Day" (January 24), "Crab Stuffed Flounder Day" (February 18), "National Turkey Neck Soup Day" (March 30), "Lima Bean Respect Day" (April 20), "National Spumoni Day" (August 22), "Biscuit and Gray Week" (second week in September - which apparently and not without some philosophical conflict is also "National Vegetarian Awareness Week), "Eat a Cranberry Day (just one, really?) (November 23), and of course, "National Chocolate Covered Anything Day" (December 16). Every day of every year there is food that calls out to be eaten in celebration.

Of course I checked my birthday to make sure the acclaimed foods were good ones; cheese, frozen yogurt and cognac are all honored along with me on the fourth of June. En route to June 4 I noticed that May 28th is National Brisket Day. I have a cat named Brisket. "Awesome!" I thought. We can make May 28th his special day. Now I also have a cat named Ducky. So I searched for celebrations of duck too. I found Peking Duck Day (January 18). "Perfect!" I thought, "There is balance in the food and cat universe."

It has been more than one hour since I started to poke around on this website. My mind is reeling with the possibilities. Do I pick the weirdest ones and put them in my calendar to celebrate? How about I strategically select my favorites from the list of celebrated foods and plan parties that feature them? Do I go all "Julie and Julia" and plan a year of eating the foods and write an blog about my adventures? Who would play me in the movie when my blog attracts the attention of Hollywood and they option the rights to my year-long, albeit derivative, laudatory feasting? I've been craving a hobby lately - maybe this is it?

In the short term, I was planning on making a nice dinner tonight. Cheese fondue as part of the repast in the Tiny Bungalow is an inevitable part of our menu. If you will be in our picturesque seaside suburb give a holler; we'll be eating cheese fondue later.

If you aren't tooling around our town, I invite you to check out the list of unsubstantiated American Food Holidays online, and share your favorites with me.

Princess MCKTP

My niece MCKTP is a six years old. She has a wide smile, shy talent, and refreshing curiosity and honesty about the world. She is also adopted, living with two (and White) dedicated moms, and is African American. My sister, one of her parents, is committed to raising a daughter who is confident, smart, and loves how she looks. Her home has a healthy dose of Black Barbie, stories featuring Black characters in positive and healthy roles, and art depicting African Americans in ordinary and appropriate scenes.

For whatever reason - maybe living in a predominantly Caucasian family in a mostly Caucasian neighborhood, and being raised in a culture where books, toys and TV shows featuring African Americans and other racial and ethnic minorities in supporting roles far more than in lead roles - MCKTP has expressed a kind of dislike for African Americans for most of her little life. "I must make made choices because all Brown people make bad choices," she declared conclusively to her parents one day. She distastefully pushed the African American American Girl Doll away when she received it for her birthday a few months ago, and she adores her blonde haired, blue eyed cousins.

On a recent visit to see my family my sister and the Divine Miss MCKTP were enjoying hot cocoa and conversation at a local bookstore. I was chatting with the little princess about the new Disney Princess, Tiana.
"Is she beautiful?" I asked.
"Yes, Auntie Clownface" she replied assertively, squirming in her seat as she absent-mindedly sipped her cocoa.
"What does she look like?" I prompted her. "You know I haven't seen the movie yet."
"Well she has a sparkly green dress, and..." MCKTP stopped in mid-sentence as a light bulb started to glow brightly over her braided head, "Hey, she looks like me! Does that mean I can be beautiful too?!"
I looked at my sister, who was grinning from ear to ear, fighting back tears of joy and relief. "Of course you can be beautiful too! You ARE beautiful MCKTP!"

*****

I'm smart with an overly developed empathic gene. I've read Toni Morrison's The Bluest Eye several times, and the film version of The Color Purple brings me to heart shaking tears. It wasn't, however, until this brief conversation with my niece that I really understood the pervasive power of popular culture, no, of American culture in general, on African American identity. This beautiful girl who is only 6 years old and surrounded by a family who has loved her since birth, listened carefully to social cues and came to the misguided conclusion that she was ugly and bad. And something as seemingly simple as one movie, one schlocky Disney movie, helped my niece reach the tipping point in her articulation of her beauty.

Breaking the cycle

My mother lost her father to a heart attack when she was 14.
I lost my father to divorce when I was 14.
Coincidence? Maybe. Maybe not?

My grandmother became a widow when she was 40.
I'm turning 40 this year. I'm so glad I'm not married because there is no way I can become a widow when I'm 40.

This is how I'm doing my part to break the cycle of family tragedy.

An imaginary conversation with my dying self

An old acquaintance whom I respect mightily recently included me on a mass email inviting her friends to think about their "bucket list." She didn't use that made for Hollywood phrase, but instead couched the invitation within the context of dying without regrets.

So, I imagined myself lying at home in cozy jammies with a glass of wine at my side, knowing that my life is shortly ending. "What," I thought, "DON'T I want to hear pass through my brain or my heart at this time?" I don't want to say,
"I wish I had hiked Mt. Kilimanjaro,"
"I'm sorry I never made it to Hawaii or the Caribbean,"
"I don't know why I never bought a house,"
"I wish I had taken each of the kids - nieces and nephews - on a special trip,"
"I would have liked to have lived in New York City, even for a short period of time,"
"I could kick myself for never having tried to live in Paris or somewhere else overseas."

If I listen just a little more closely, I might hear the following:
"I'm sorry I didn't have a bigger wedding,"
"It would have been cool to work for the National Park Service,"
"Not going into the Peace Corps when I had the chance was mistake I'll never forget,"
"I regret I didn't give more to ease the ache in my heart over homelessness,"
"It would have been fun to enter a giant pumpkin - or something - into a county fair,"
"Why didn't I apply myself more as a biker (or a kayaker or a hiker or a xc skiier)?"
"I wish I had seen my daddy one more time."

These are some of the imaginary conversations I'm having with my imaginary, dying self. The timing couldn't be more perfect as I prepare to start the second 40 years of my life. Turning 40, for me, means embracing my adult decisions, lifestyle, attitudes and values with confidence and enthusiasm and purpose. As I head into the final six months of my thirties, I will ask my real self, "How do I prevent as many of these imaginary conversations from happening in real life?"

Are you willing to have imaginary conversations with your dying self? What would might they sound like?

If you don't get presents does this mean you aren't good?

The legend of Santa says that "He knows if you've been bad or good." We have songs about this. Parents in Christmas-celebrating households use this liberally as a threat throughout December. Every visit to Santa's mall helpers includes a question about whether or not you have been good this year. The net effect is to create a culture in which children believe they get presents from Santa only if they have been good.

So what is the effect on poor children in Christmas celebrating who have been good, but don't get presents? If I apply MY kid logic I'd believe that I wasn't good enough to deserve a present. What is the emotional impact of this?

The national unemployment rate is 10.2%. Nearly 60% of the 308 million Americans are of working age, which means as many as 31 million adults who previously were working for pay now are not working for pay. Which means there are a whole lot of children who may end up believing they weren't good enough to get presents from Santa this year.

The magnitude and implications of the recession hit me in a new way while I was shopping at a local discount retailer earlier today. I encountered at least half a dozen adults considering what Christmas decorations to buy, what toys they could afford for their children, what grocery items were too far out-of-date to be safe to eat. I overheard children wistfully talking about the toys they wanted, adult daughters and their mothers talking about how they could possibly get x and y for the little ones in their families, and husbands and wives trying to figure out how they could possibly give as much to their extended families as they had last year. Overhearing all of these conversations made my heart sad. These conversations reminded me that this year is different. That this year children - and adults - won't get as much as they hope for, as much as they believe they deserve as recognition of their efforts to be the best they can be.

My shopping experience also created an enormous feeling of guilty gratitude. I don't have to find a way to try to fulfill my child's wish list while managing unemployment or other forms of public assistance. I don't have to tell my child mommy's unemployment makes our house invisible on Santa's map, so he might not find us this year. I have the privilege of giving myself almost everything I want (and my wants are small, so this is easier for me than for some). I have the privilege of consciously making choices on what to buy and what not to buy to give to my sweetheart, my family, friends and colleagues, service professionals who make my life easier, and even strangers. I have the privilege of not having to worry about whether a lack of presents under my tree is evidence of my inherent unlovable or badness.

I wish I had the power to change our cultural messaging about the meaning of Christmas and the role of Santa. If I did I would encourage families to tell children that Christmas is a season of love, and we share love with each other in many different ways - by sharing a hug, reading stories together, and sometimes, when we are lucky, giving and receiving gifts.

However you celebrate the holidays, I hope you can find love in small gestures, kind touches, AND simple gift giving this year. Merry Christmas.

"Do you ever miss Santa"

My nine year-old niece asked me this earlier today when I was telling her that I was at the mall to buy my brother a gift for his Christmas stocking.

"Wait a minute!" she declared after half a beat. "Why are YOU filling Uncle TK's stocking. Doesn't Santa do that?"
"Santa only fills the stockings of kids. He has his hands pretty full taking care of children all over the world, so at a certain age he stops giving people presents."
"How old were you when Santa stopped bringing you presents?" she asked in a quiet voice.
"Twenty-one or twenty-two," I swiftly replied. (I hope Santa reads this so he knows how long he is on the hook with the present giving.)
"Do you ever miss Santa?" she asked, in an even quieter voice.

Of course I miss Santa! I'm also grateful that the spirit of gratitude, surprise, and fulfillment can be experienced through buying gifts for my family, populating my online registry with things I've found online, and quietly contemplating Christmas lights that bathe the front of my home, the homes of neighbors, town centers, and many businesses.

Where do you find the spirit of the season - whether you observe Christmas or Hanukkah, Kwaanza, Solstice, or New Year?