I have been saving recipes since September. Bon Appetit, Gourmet, even the Wegman's promotional menu magazine. As the fall semester is almost over, I only have two more weeks until I go home, see my family... and go grocery shopping. Oh yes. I am eagerly anticipating the moment when my father asks me to go to the store, handing over that little piece of plastic power - his credit card. Few understand my passion for what I consider to be a joyous occasion. Visions of the chicken pot pies in individual ramekins from a McCormick's ad in the October issue of Bon Appetit are inhibiting my ability to study for bio; and I can already taste the Fiji apple spice cake - requiring far too many exotic ingredients than I can afford on my meager college budget.
I will dress nicely (there are always cute boys working the checkout lane) and because I want to look sassy as I ponder choice cuts of meat. As I sashay up and down the produce aisle, I'll be sure to stop at the Mediterranean bar, selecting prosciutto and feta stuffed olives to serve with the brie and crackers. As for the brie, I'll need to go find apricot preserves and slivered almonds. The basil will call out to me, as it always does. I simply cannot resist the tender leaves in their yellow and red bags, sold oh-so-near pine nuts, prompting pesto. As pesto is never complete without fresh mozzarella, I'll need to stop and select three succulent rounds floating in water. I will continue on, past the aisle of snacks and soda, looked down upon by an elite muncher such as myself. I'll stop in baking, where I will stock up on chocolate chips, and here I will choose the store brand, because they are made without vanillin, unlike their more expensive brand name counterparts.
One trip to the grocery store will never be enough. They know me in Shop Rite. I have gone multiple times in one day, three to four times in a week. It is never too far to drive for that one ingredient which will make a meal. When I walk into the store, beckoned by the florescent lights like Nemo was to the anglerfish, I will sigh with content, and know I am right where I belong. I'll stop first at Dunkin Donuts, purchasing a medium coconut coffee, a little treat to fully enhance the experience. For every meal I'll probably be back at the store, as ingredients are best when they are fresh, and if I spend $200.00 in one shot, I might have my privilege rescinded.
There will be a night featuring fish. I'm savoring tilapia picatta, made with capers from the 16 oz. jar I found on sale for $3.99. As I passionately cried, "Capers!" other shoppers made a quick retreat, leaving me and my Spanish berries alone in the aisle. One taste of the slightly nutty, with a hint of salty, berry bursting in their mouth, and they too would be lifelong devotees. This same store was selling spices: nutmeg, cinnamon, cloves and ginger, all $0.89, and extracts for only a $1.00. As I unloaded my goodies back at school, my roommate questioned, "Are all of those little jars spices?" with a tone that implied it is not necessary for one person to own so many. Yes they are, and I intend to use all of them.
I have not even opened the December issue of Bon Appetit yet; I want to give it the time it deserves. It cannot be quickly perused, but instead needs to be read over carefully, with thought given to each recipe, and entire meals being prepared with plans over how to make the squash soup center stage. I am going to make brioche, and I do not need the excuse of a dinner party. I talked to my mother last week, and discovered that on my father's new diet, he needs to eat calciferous greens, prompting my mother to buy kale, and then ponder what exactly she could do with it so that it would be consumed. I taught her about flash frying with olive oil, a touch of salt, and a pinch of fresh lemon juice, but I want to open their palates to the multitude of possibilities presented by this green leaf.
I have a countdown going towards Christmas - and this year I intend to return every other present to buy a KitchenAid.
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