My husband got a crash course in grocery shopping last week a few days before Christmas.
Working for the nice big corporation we all know in this area, you know, the yellow one, he had a lot of vacation around Christmas time while I was slaving away.
The news never stops.
So, I thought it was fair for him to have to brave the packed grocery stores this year.
What a fiasco!
While we try to patronize local grocery stores, if we have more than just food items on the list, our first stop is usually Wal-Mart.
I warned my husband that items, such as the Stilton cheese I needed for our salad, wouldn’t be at Wal-Mart. But I never thought he’d have such a hard time with what I consider common items.
10:05 a.m., my desk phone rings:
“I’m at Wal-Mart. They don’t have brut champagne. I see Korbel, Cook, Andre ... but no brut.”
Look underneath those names.
“Ohhh.”
(Yes, we buy cheap “champagne” for our Christmas morning kir royal cocktails.)
10:32 a.m., second call.
“I’m at Kroger’s. I asked the guy if they had bibbo lettuce and he said they don’t.”
Hmmm, maybe try asking for bibb lettuce.
10:50 a.m., my desk phone rings a third time.
“I’m at Lindy’s. No Stilton. They have crumbled blue cheese in a carton and a wedge. But the
wedge says ‘creamy.’ Which should I get?”
10:54 a.m. – “The Emmental says Emmentaler.”
Yes, it’s the same.
Of course, by the fourth phone call, he is wishing he was at work instead of “on vacation” and cursing my need to make “recipes with ingredients no one ever eats!”
“Remember the time you had to have Belgian endive brought down from Chicago?” he asks. My dad was coming down from Chicago anyway, and the grocery store wasn’t out of his way.
Anyway, I think it is good for my husband to learn by fire, even if that means visiting all three grocery stores in town and calling me every 10 minutes.
And when he asks me if I want to change the oil in our car, frame up the new window and door in the family room or do some welding in the shop while he’s at the grocery store, I say, “Of course, dear.”
