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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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Madoff
I specialize in damage control, being the drunkest at any and all functions and social assassination. Always appreciate a strong gif game. Follow me on Twitter. Sometimes I put up cool stuff about golfing at the local dirt tracks.
@BLMInvestment
Madoff no truer words have been spoken. I literally wandered around a small grocery store/butcher shop the other day for about an hour just taking it all in before picking up a rack of baby back ribs I slow roasted.
Well done, sir.
Pics or it didn’t happen with the ribs
Thank you for finally being the man brave enough to say that people who can’t cook are idiots. I can’t remember the last time I want out with a girl who could actually cook. I’m Italian, so everyone in my family loves to cook, especially the men. I’m certainly not going to marry someone who can’t follow a simple recipe.
I totally agree. Not Italian (German/Irish) but my dad was a grill master. I have 4 grills, 2 crockpots, 3 cast iron pans and a full kitchen worth of other things. It’s not hard and saves so much money. Going to the grocery store is zen. I wish they’d sell walking beers but if elected president, that would be one of my first decrees.
A vote for Madoff is a vote for Walking Beers. #Madoff2016
Shibby and I plan on running on beerbque’s, national Hawaiian shirt days, #marglife Mondays (as well as national drink of choice) and no more student debt. It’s a TFM
and legalizing marijuana.
via GIPHY
Many Whole Foods locations sell roadies.
The beer/wine aisles at HEB are a life saver, and the highlight of my trip. So many choices
One of the worst things about moving to the northeast was realizing I can’t buy food, beer, and liquor all at the grocery store
The most alcoholic thing I do is bring a coke and a pint of rum with me when I grocery shop. Save like 1/3 the rum for when I get home for cooking. Mwah!
Wegmans is god’s gift to grocery shopping. Unreal combination of quality, prices, made to order options, and a full selection of beers. That place is true, postgrad bliss
Love cooking, but the long lines and inept shoppers ruin the grocery store for me.
Oh yeah. I can cook. (And yes, I’m a girl). Last week I made Southwestern chicken and cilantro rice bowls, the week before I had spicy grilled fish and mashed potatoes, and this week I’ve made a couple trays of roasted vegetables so good they may as well be dessert. (Okay that’s a lie. Even the best veggies can never beat a dessert.) My mom taught me to cook so I wouldn’t go broke and/or starve to death once I moved out. People who can’t cook are morons, but people who refuse to try are dead to me.