I never understand why people say, “I hate grocery shopping.” I used to feel this when I was a child but as an adult, I relish and enjoy my trips to the grocery store. Sometimes I go with nothing in mind and just walk around, thinking of ideas or looking for different specials. I have an intimate knowledge of my local grocery store, and I save coupons/e-coupons and I get a semi-chub when there are “Buy 5, Save $5” specials.
In college, grocery shopping was different: find as much food for as cheap as possible. Ramen, spaghetti, and shitty cuts of meat were all I could afford, but it taught me to be appreciative and to make cheap meals taste like something straight out of Bobby Flay’s kitchen. My crockpot was (and still is) my best friend, and “low and slow” will always be my mantra.
Now that my coffers have a few extra coins in them, the grocery store is a vast open world of endless possibilities. Hell, I can even afford some of the things at the farmer’s market, another delight and underrated perk of the post-college world. Those fresh peaches straight from the orchard taste much better and are quite affordable compared to the ones at Kroger. Blueberry pancakes with berries picked earlier this morning? You betcha. Fresh brisket from the butcher is far superior and the same price! Now that I own a house, I even have a giant freezer to store all my manager special meats for later grilling, braising or deep frying. I subscribe to the Denis Leary method, “Not eating meat is a decision, eating meat is an instinct.”
One of the best feelings in the world is making something from scratch. A simple strategy is to look at three recipes I like, make it my own, and give it a shot. I also keep a recipe book in my Word documents so I don’t forget the recipe if I drink too much during the making of said food. The sense of accomplishment of making your own meal is only trumped by the knowledge that the money saved can now be allocated towards beer. The circle of life.
I hate people that say, “I can’t cook.” In a world with YouTube, virtual cookbooks and Google, saying “I can’t cook” is akin to saying, “I am too stupid to read and follow directions.” Like Hitch, start it small, follow the directions, and eventually, you’ll know to add another chipotle pepper, use less salt or add some cocoa powder to your chili to give it a rich flavor and tenderize the meat. Other than the natural necessity, learning to cook was one of the best ideas I ever had for picking up women. I know too many millennial women that “can’t cook” or “burn everything.” Not being able to cook is a chicken shit excuse and far too many ladies these days fall in this category.
Going to the grocery store is relaxing. As a kid, I had to beg for Count Chocula cereal, Snickers ice cream bars or frozen pizza but rarely got them because they are “bad for me.” Now, I’m a working man and I can buy whatever I want. I can make chicken and waffles, breakfast for dinner, eat a bowl of cereal or drink my dinner because I’m a grown ass man.
Furthermore, my favorite thing about the grocery store is that they sell booze. Coming from a shitty northeastern state, I was unaware of this until I moved to a state with this great advance in humanity. I never get carded because every checkout line cashier knows me, and I feel weird leaving the store without another modern marvel, the build-your-own six-pack. Being able to buy your food and beer at the same place is something the ancient Romans would be really fired up about, and as an American, I feel it should be the right of everyone in the country to be able to enjoy.
Going to the grocery store is like an adult candy store. There are meats, the deli, the beer cave, dairy, junk food and so much opportunity. Sure, going out for dinner is great, but I’m a man that enjoys a home cooked meal, whether it be from the grill, the oven, or the deep fryer. Sometimes the parking sucks, fat people on scooters bogart aisles, or someone has a drive-by turd, but still, the grocery store is a wonderful place. .
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