#9 in my "A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Or Less" series. (For a description of how this series works, see Installment #1.)
A shopping cart of food. Why the hell did I take a photo of my shopping cart of food? When I randomly pulled this photo for my APIWATWOL project, I asked myself this question...and again was tempted to pick a different photo. But rules are rules, so a shopping cart of food it is.
A shopping cart of food. Why the hell did I take a photo of my shopping cart of food? When I randomly pulled this photo for my APIWATWOL project, I asked myself this question...and again was tempted to pick a different photo. But rules are rules, so a shopping cart of food it is.
The date stamp on the photo
file indicates that this was my first grocery shopping trip after returning
from a family reunion six years ago. We hold our week-long reunions at the
Jersey Shore every three years, and anywhere from 80 to 100 Worthingtons gather
to sit, talk, laugh, drink, eat and float in the ocean together. (Relatives who
go to a gym during reunions are shunned.)
The shore isn’t exactly
known for its health food, so the menu for the week is heavy on cheesesteaks,
pizza, sticky buns and beer. During our last reunion, I discovered that a vegetable juice bar had opened in Stone Harbor and when I walked through its door the
first time, I practically bowed at the owner’s feet in gratitude. After
chugging my green juice, I grabbed a slice at the pizzeria across the street. Hey,
just because an old dog learns a new trick doesn’t mean she forgets her old
tricks, right?
There are things in the
shopping cart above that I didn’t even know existed in earlier years. Growing
up, I thought there was one kind of lettuce and it was iceberg. Imagine my shock when I discovered the existence of romaine
and arugula, both in this cart.
Avocados, bought regularly
now, were something I didn’t discover until moving west of the Mississippi in
my early 20s. Because Jack-in-the-Box—aka Jer-Mex—didn’t offer guacamole.
Probably because it can’t be deep-fried.
See those two quarts of
kefir in my cart? Until about eight years ago, the only kefir I knew of was
Sutherland. Now kefir is a staple grocery item. I use it to make my morning
shakes, another mid-life discovery. In my 20s and 30s, morning shakes were
simply the bi-product of a great party the night before.
Next to the kefir is a
bottle of kombucha “tea”—one of the nastiest and healthiest drinks around. Tea is a bit of a misnomer though. More
like funky mushroom water. Kombucha
will always hold a special place in my heart because it was the excuse Jeff
used to ask me out on our first date. In a fit of health-crazedness, he had begun
growing his own kombucha mushrooms (basically, blobs of mold in giant bowls
covered with dish towels) at the media studio he owned in San Francisco when we
met. After our first business meeting, Jeff invited me to his studio to try
kombucha tea. Fortunately, our relationship lasted longer than his fixation
with growing kombucha mushrooms. Now, we’re down to the occasional pre-packaged
bottle of flavored kombucha tea. Usually as penance for food crimes like a week
spent eating crap food at the Jersey Shore.
In the bottom of the cart I
see my usual bushel of organic cucumbers, jumbo bag of carrots and a few
bunches of kale. If you’d told me when I was a kid, or even a teenager, or even
a 30-something businesswoman who regularly ate fast food, that I’d one day be
jamming the likes of cucumbers and kale and parsley through a masticating
machine and drinking what was spewed out, I would’ve laughed. Or run away.
Fast.
So overall, I’d say the
theme of this trip to the grocery store was Reform. When the most decadent item in
the shopping cart is a bag of organic blue corn chips, you know you’re in for a
fairly boring-but-healthful week ahead.
Food, like life, has its
ups and downs, its crazy out of control times and its periods of smart decisions.
And the beauty of food—and life—is that we get to choose.
What’s in your shopping
cart?
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