Shopping In The Refrigerator, or How I Avoided Costco This Week
If I had my way we would go to Costco once a month with a carefully planned list and then not go back no matter what. How hard can it be to plan out how much toilet paper, peanuts, dates, maple syrup, and frozen fruit we will need for a month? Or how many eggs and whether or not we need toothbrush heads? However, I live with three men (one middle-aged, two young) who think that Costco is where you go when you run out of lettuce. As in, We need to go to Costco this week because we are out of lettuce! Did you hear me? We need lettuce from Costco!
Lettuce, people! They sell it at the produce stand one mile from the house, which can be reached by foot or bicycle and never has more than one person in front of me in line. If it is extremely hot I will even drive there and not feel guilty, because my car is cute and I don't feel like melting on my bicycle when it is 97°.
I have already been to Costco twice in June, which isn't fair, and I will probably have to go again because: graduation party. But I will not go just because we are out of lettuce. If we were out of toilet paper, then I would go, and they could buy some lettuce too, but again, not just for lettuce. #notjustforlettuce
What can that possibly mean, anyway, to be out of lettuce? We aren't out of water or air or even food. Half the time when the young men are asked if they want a salad they say no anyway. But they keep track of lettuce like it was a baseball box score.
In a convoluted, related situation, my refrigerator has been a disorganized mess; there are approximately 6 million mason jars full of ferments, bacon fat, and leftovers (or 21, which is exactly the same thing when you are trying to find the tub of shredded Dubliner cheese). I don't mind so much, because they are my ferments, but the guys are tired of pushing everything around and tend to leave jars dangling dangerously on front shelf ledges, threatening to fall the next time the door is opened, spilling milk kefir all over.
And so today I cleaned out the refrigerator, and as a bonus I shopped it by pulling out all of the produce, cleaning and chopping it, and returning it to the bins looking brand new and shiny. There are now bags of arugula, clean mini cucumbers, washed and peeled carrots, jicama sticks, bell pepper strips, shredded cabbage, peeled daikon root, and cleaned green onions, and I'm pretty sure the family thinks I went shopping after all. When they ask for lettuce I will point out that we have cabbage, or I will just make cabbage salad myself and avoid the subject altogether.
I drank the water kefir, thus cutting the mason jars down to a manageable 20.
In the outside refrigerator I found a watermelon, 3# of prepped broccoli, and a still-good package of cooked beets. Short of a toilet paper shortage, I don't see any reason to go to Costco until we shop for the graduation party. Which is
Ideas To Avoid Going to Costco for Lettuce:
Clean all of the produce in the house
Make cabbage salad
Make shredded carrot salad
Make cucumber salad
Tell Papa that arugula and tomato salad is the newest salad fad
Make a fancy salad with chopped vegetables and beets
Put out so many raw vegetables as a pre-dinner snack that I can convince Papa that we don't need to make a salad
Make pizza (because no one questions anything if I make pizza)
Lettuce, people! They sell it at the produce stand one mile from the house, which can be reached by foot or bicycle and never has more than one person in front of me in line. If it is extremely hot I will even drive there and not feel guilty, because my car is cute and I don't feel like melting on my bicycle when it is 97°.
I have already been to Costco twice in June, which isn't fair, and I will probably have to go again because: graduation party. But I will not go just because we are out of lettuce. If we were out of toilet paper, then I would go, and they could buy some lettuce too, but again, not just for lettuce. #notjustforlettuce
What can that possibly mean, anyway, to be out of lettuce? We aren't out of water or air or even food. Half the time when the young men are asked if they want a salad they say no anyway. But they keep track of lettuce like it was a baseball box score.
In a convoluted, related situation, my refrigerator has been a disorganized mess; there are approximately 6 million mason jars full of ferments, bacon fat, and leftovers (or 21, which is exactly the same thing when you are trying to find the tub of shredded Dubliner cheese). I don't mind so much, because they are my ferments, but the guys are tired of pushing everything around and tend to leave jars dangling dangerously on front shelf ledges, threatening to fall the next time the door is opened, spilling milk kefir all over.
And so today I cleaned out the refrigerator, and as a bonus I shopped it by pulling out all of the produce, cleaning and chopping it, and returning it to the bins looking brand new and shiny. There are now bags of arugula, clean mini cucumbers, washed and peeled carrots, jicama sticks, bell pepper strips, shredded cabbage, peeled daikon root, and cleaned green onions, and I'm pretty sure the family thinks I went shopping after all. When they ask for lettuce I will point out that we have cabbage, or I will just make cabbage salad myself and avoid the subject altogether.
I drank the water kefir, thus cutting the mason jars down to a manageable 20.
In the outside refrigerator I found a watermelon, 3# of prepped broccoli, and a still-good package of cooked beets. Short of a toilet paper shortage, I don't see any reason to go to Costco until we shop for the graduation party. Which is
Ideas To Avoid Going to Costco for Lettuce:
Clean all of the produce in the house
Make cabbage salad
Make shredded carrot salad
Make cucumber salad
Tell Papa that arugula and tomato salad is the newest salad fad
Make a fancy salad with chopped vegetables and beets
Put out so many raw vegetables as a pre-dinner snack that I can convince Papa that we don't need to make a salad
Make pizza (because no one questions anything if I make pizza)
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