Walking Is Transportation

ABOUT-FACE

On MSNBC and other cable news channels, they call what I'm about to do 'walking it back.'

Which means, I'm about to write that what I wrote --- in my last post about FreshDirect™ --- does not reflect my current thinking. [FreshDirect is an online ordering and delivery service for groceries and other household items that I patronized during the month of March, 2014.]

When I wrote that post on April 19, I had just checked the statement from the bank card I used to pay for FreshDirect deliveries. I wasn't just shocked by the total amount I spent with FreshDirect; I felt like an idiot for paying what I could see were plainly higher, sometimes considerably higher, prices. If you're choosing between two heads of garlic, I reasoned, how could choosing the higher-priced one possibly be worth it?

Here's my walk-back: I was wrong. It's worth it.

My resolve to go back to the much lower prices of my neighborhood supermarket, Western Beef™, began to crumble almost immediately. It started with my wife recalling how much better FreshDirect produce tasted, how much fresher and more flavorful. Wasn't it worth paying the price for something you really enjoy?, she asked, completely reasonably.

But what made me return to online ordering was a weekful of ancient, tasteless carrots and rotten turnips, following a bagful of Long Island potatoes we had to throw out --- all from our local supermarket. Suddenly paying less didn't seem so important or so smart.

Our first order since our return to FreshDirect arrived this morning. Every item was big, beautiful and healthy, and beautifully packed. What's more, I know everything will taste terrific --- and if it doesn't, I'll get a refund. Paying more in this case seems very wise indeed.

 

 

CALL ME HOUSEHUSBAND

HOUSEHUSBAND:  A married man who manages the household as his main occupation . . . --American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, 1992

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KEYS TO THE KITCHEN

It’s exciting. Like the prospect of living in a different place. Or acquiring a new tool that expands what you can do. What I’m talking about here is the new role I’m taking on in our family. The responsibility for food-buying and meal preparation. From now on, they’re up to me.

If I’d been looking, I might have seen this day coming, since I’ve been doing more of the shopping and cooking in recent years. One of the reasons for that division of labor is simple fairness toward my partner. Another is wanting to cook the way I want to eat--a diet more, though not exclusively, focused on plants and grains. And the last part is catch-up: I want to feel less like an interloper in the kitchen, more adept, more capable, more knowing. 

NOT EXACTLY A NATURAL

This focus on cooking and feeding is not second nature to me, and it's come late. But then, when you consider my upbringing, it's amazing that it arrived at all.

My mother, like most of her sisters and friends, considered herself an emancipated career woman of a young century (the 20th). She was one of a group of independent-minded seamstresses, secretaries and bookkeepers who vowed they wouldn't be chained to a stove.

But with my mother, this wasn't just kitchen politics. As a single parent and sole breadwinner, she had no time to worry about more than simple nutrition. Everything was boiled or broiled and effectively drained of all taste or texture. 

As the child of poor immigrants used to the cheapest cuts of meat and the lowest grade produce, she did what she had been taught to do: cook everything to death, so it couldn't kill you. Salt was the only seasoning; mayonnaise and mustard the only other additives. If what emerged from the pot or the oven actually tasted good, that was a bonus.

The result is that I grew up with a taste for very dull, very plain food whose main virtue is that it's reasonably healthy. My wife Ellen and my friend Joe Leo got me to take a few faltering steps beyond that sorry state. I hope this new role as sole food-getter and -preparer will prompt a great leap forward in the kitchen and on the table.