fun at the grocery store

Tonight was one of those awful nights I had nothing scheduled, so I resorted after working late to Having Fun at the Grocery Store. I thought it was a blast. The employees not so much.

The fun actually started on the bus ride in with a flurry of overseas texts. It seems my friend couldn't sleep at 3 am, but, hurrah, that's why we keep friends on multiple continents, isn't it? The virtual sheep count was all well and good on the bus, but it started to break down a bit shortly after the broccoli as I was having trouble (okay, completely failing) to concentrate on the cashews. I said goodnight, and thought I was in the clear. Four minutes later my sleep-deprived friend had made a startling revelation: Kim had mentioned broccoli. Kim doesn't cook. Confusion ensued.

The deal was if Sleepyhead didn't go under within 30 minutes, a call was in order. I, of course, being at my alertest aroundabout that time of night, quickly concocted a multiple choice test regarding the broccoli. However, sleep evidently came (presumably around minute 29), and I never got to use it. Not being one to waste a good idea, I shall reproduce it here. Ahem:

Why did Kim, who does not cook, mention broccoli?
A. She was not actually buying broccoli at all, but it fit the alliterative pattern necessary in her text.
B. It was on sale and she thought, "What the heck, why not get some broccoli?"
C. She was planning to eat it raw.
D. She had accidentally stuck her finger in a socket and had emerged miraculously unscathed, but seized by a sudden desire to cook.

Do you give up? Do you give up? I shall tell you: a combination of B, C and D.

Definitely B. Partially C. A teensy bit of D (I was feeling slightly hungry and thought cooking some for dinner could be okay). More on that later.

In any event, by the time Sleepyhead managed to snooze, I had managed to acquire very few of the items I'd actually come in to buy. I had, however, made the startling discovery that the grocery store was full of blog material.

I am not sure whether the fact I'd missed this for the last 2 1/2 years is a greater testament to my supreme skills of non-observance or my infrequent trips to the grocery store, but the fact remains that for whatever reason I saw Coles with entirely new eyes tonight and could hardly refrain from taking pictures left, right and center. This is the part that I think disturbed the employees, particularly if the top of their heads happened to find their way into my frame.

Let me give you sampling of what I found:

--An aisle labeled "Confectionery"!
--The same aisle also sold "Biscuits" and "Sweet Bisc."
--A 2-liter of Coke: priced at $3.47!!
--Oreos. These don't taste as good here, and I'd been meaning to tell you in case you find yourself faced with an overseas Oreo. Run.
--Tiny Teddies. The closest Australians have to Teddy Grahams, and, thus, the closest they have to Graham crackers. They might debate this with you, but trust me. They are.

There was more ($3-something for a jar of cranberry sauce half the size of the usual tin), but they were starting to look at me really strange, and I thought I'd better quit while I was ahead. Fun while it lasted, though.

Next came Having Fun at Home. With the broccoli. I really wasn't planning on eating (it's not really my thing; you see, dinner for me is rare enough to warrant a detailed chronicle), but caved in the end, consoling myself mainly by taking pictures while I (gasp) cooked.

I hasten to note that it is not that I cannot cook. I can. I simply have much better things to be doing with my time, like amusing sleepless friends. (I believe I've mentioned before what an awesome friend I am. You see? I told you so.)

I should also point out that, while I can be finicky about the actual foods I eat (I don't like cheese. Or bananas. Or olives. And I really'd prefer to stay away from lamb and mustard and mayo and pie crust. Etc.), I am not at all picky about quality or presentation. In fact, I see this as a definite sign of good character.

The meal I had hit upon exemplified good character: broccoli and cranberry sauce.

Perhaps I have not mentioned that I like cranberry sauce? I do. I like it tremendously. Not to eat straight, of course; that would be disgusting. Rather, I find that there are certain meals that require cranberry sauce utterly. That is, they cannot possibly be enjoyed without cranberry sauce. They are very crafty, though, and it can be nearly impossible to tell when they will emerge until, poof!, there they are and you're caught un-red-handed without the cranberry sauce.

This has happened to my mother on numerous occasions. She, poor dear, was quite often unaware of the tragedy of her circumstances, but fortunately I was there to point out the missing ingredient and save the day if it were possible to acquire more cranberry sauce before the meal began. If it were not, I remained on hand to wail miserably in the corner about how desperately the meal fell short of the greatness it could have been.

It seems that these days my mother keeps a good six tins of cranberry sauce in constant supply in the basement pantry should such circumstances again occur. (Seeing as I live in Sydney and she lives in Cincinnati and wants me to move back to Cincinnati, she keeps her culinary skills at the very height of their game the entire time I am ever at home in order to lure me back. Letting the cranberry count fall below six could prove disastrous, and she knows it.)

And so, the meal I had chosen (broccoli), I found to be complete because I also had cranberry sauce. Before getting to that stage, though, I had to amuse myself while the water boiled, because, really, it is boring to wait for water to boil. I don't know how cooks handle it generally, but I staved off insanity by photographing my creation. Also, I wanted solid documentation in case anyone accused me of not actually cooking. You can see from the photo that I very carefully included a bit of my sleeve so that you could see it was pink and know it was really me. Aren't you just pleased as punch? I am.

It was all really rather downhill from there, except the second highlight when I got to take another photo with the finished meal that included the excessively overpriced cranberry sauce, albeit not with its price tag. Isn't that just dandy, though? I knew you'd think so.

Anyway, I'm spent for the evening, but I hope you've had fun. And if you haven't, well, perhaps you could find a nice grocery store to play in.