The Observer, March 10, 2006
Volume XXXVIII, Issue 20
Worst Case Scenario: Grocery
Sometimes, in life, you must cook for yourself. Seriously. Leutner won't fill your belly forever, for which you and your health ought to be grateful.
But before the time comes to turn on the stove and heat up something that doesn't come in a presealed package, you'll have to travel to that cave of mysteries – the grocery store!
With aisles and aisles of brightly labeled packages, rows and rows of oddly shaped produce, and stacks and stacks of multicolored beverages, the grocery is a literal cornucopia.
It is also a labyrinth, full of high walls, obstructions, and a Minotaur in the dairy refrigerators. And, speaking of mystical monsters, did you think Giant Eagle was just a name? Just don't reach too far back among the chicken pieces.
Yes, it's true, the grocery store is a confusing place. It first seems like paradise: an endless supply of food. Mysterious powers provide you with a cart so you can hugely indulge your gluttony aisle by aisle in one binge-like visit.
Then just when you're feeling full, they make you pay for all those items. It's all a big trap.
Fortunately, just like the mythical labyrinth, the grocery store, too, can be escaped without death. Well, at least not your death. Those cows aren't going to moo again, no matter how rare you like your steak.
To follow Ariadne's thread to freedom, you must first look for the plain boxes. These are the generics, God's gift to the frugal. In addition to being cheaper, they're also more descriptive: Toasted Oats certainly informs me about the O's I'm munching on better than Cheerios. While not nearly as pretty as the more expensive, cartoon-adorned versions, don't fret, with a little sugar or salt, everything tastes essentially the same.
Next, wander away from the center aisles, full of expensively prepackaged foods. Premade meals may tempt you into thinking Mom cooked for you, but you didn't have to pay her, did you? You'll find that the best things in life are free, and, as the old saying should continue, TV dinners suck. Especially for the health-conscious: eating one frozen dinner is roughly the equivalent of trying to gain nourishment by soaking everything you eat in oil first.
On the outer edges of the maze lie the raw ingredients - fruits, vegetables, dairy, meats. And while that shallow tin of roast chicken breast and green beans costs $3 on its own for meat from an A-cup hen, you can buy a full pound of D-cup meat for only $2, four times more titillating than the precooked version. For those who aren't familiar with raw produce, there are generally friendly people and even charts that can help you decide which are the bad apples.
Finally, the thread to the outside world winds (or should) toward the self-scan aisle, because time, too, is money. These machines tend to have much shorter lines because Americans are lazy, which means you can go home and enjoy your treasures.
