And I'm back

The trip home was uneventful. It rained most of the drive, heavily for the last forty miles or so. I am not going to complain about that. We need the rain. It also looks like we're going to get some of our rollercoaster winter weather (close to 60 one day, in the 30s the next). But I'm also fine with that; it's monotony in weather that gets to me.

I stocked up on groceries in Sherman, taking advantage of the fact that the semi-new Kroger house organic brand ("Simple Truth") features quite a number of items that are lower in sodium than national brands. (Yes, back to cooking for myself, back to having to explicitly think about such things). I hope I bought enough stuff to avoid grocery shopping for a while. I like cooking, I like having the stuff stocked up to use, but I generally do not like grocery shopping. Today wasn't so bad, as it was a Tuesday, but there was one guy in a trenchcoat, a watchcap, and camo pants that kept wandering the store and stopping and staring at random people (the cashier asked if I'd seen him; I said yes and that I found him slightly unsettling - she was trying to decide whether to call a manager. Apparently their concern was that he was shoplifting; my concern was something much more panicky. I don't like that that is where my mind goes these days, rather than, "Huh, he's just kind of a weird guy," but such is life).

I will say I remain envious of my parents having a Fresh Market available. Yes, it's the worst yuppie stereotype ever (are there still yuppies? Or have they transmogrified into something else now? DINKs? "Concerned" (or "Conscious," or whatever) customers?) I will openly admit here that I would be willing to pay the higher prices at a Fresh Market to be able to shop there. I don't care if that makes me seem foolish or a bad person. Because Fresh Market has
a. More humane lighting (it is not the glaring fluorescent tubes of your typical grocery; it's drop lights that I suspect are LED)
b. A lower ceiling. (And yes, that matters to me. If for no other reason than that it is less-entertaining for small children to shriek and hear the echoes that a high ceiling causes)
c. The whole place has the feel of being quiet and wood-paneled. And darn it, that MATTERS to me
d. They play classical music as their Muzak. Much much better to my tastes than the blando pop that many groceries play (or the recycled 80s tunes. You know you are getting old when music you disliked on its first go-round gets turned into Muzak). And far, far better than what one store near me, which shall remain nameless, does: pipes in commercials that are *read off* in this *breathless* voice of  *enthusiasm*.

In  general, it just doesn't have the "herd 'em in, sell to 'em, herd 'em out" feeling like some groceries have. Oh, I'm sure that mentality still exists in the store marketing and design, but it's more subtle.  (AND they have a separate meat counter, so if you want only one pork chop, you can actually buy only one pork chop).

And yes, as I said, I totally GET that the people who shop at that store pay extra for the experience. But here's the thing: for some of us, there are very few "third places" left. Years back, people bowled. Or they belonged to a tennis club. Or they hung out at a bar or a coffee shop. I don't know about anyone else but I rarely do any of those kinds of things. Mostly because I don't have time, but also because relatively few of those places exist in a way that is comfortable for a single woman to walk into alone in my town.  (Spending time shopping in a quilt shop is probably the closest I come). It's nice to have places that aren't home and aren't work. (And yes, I have church, but often being at church means I'm involved in some other kind of volunteer work, or at least I have responsibilities). So to be able to go to someplace pleasant to shop for my food would be nice. (The Green Spray comes closer than the Wal-Mart does here in town, but they're not perfect: I wish their produce section were larger, and that they had a proper bakery).

But anyway. I've got canned beets and frozen blueberries and a smallish chuck roast (to try doing as pot roast in my slow cooker) and some organically raised chicken breasts and salad greens and a couple boxes of cereal and more oatmeal and Greek yogurt (tiresome side note: it is lower in sodium than the regular kind) and cheese and I restocked my small wine supply (for things like cooking in the pot roast) and crushed tomatoes....and I hope I don't run out of ideas of what to cook now.

***
I'll have to wait for a few days for my new "inspiration" cookbook to get here. One thing I got for Christmas was a copy of the "Cooks' Country" cookbook. "Cooks' Country" (which is an offshoot of Cooks Illustrated) is one of my favorite cooking magazines, from the standpoint that they usually discuss the history of a dish (and they pick some interesting ones: I grew up not 50 miles from Barberton, Ohio, and I never knew there was a specific "Barberton style fried chicken" until I saw a recipe for it). They also talk about how they use trial and error and experimentation to perfect a dish (and some cases where the extra work turns out not to be worth it). Granted, they DON'T give nutritional information but as I get better at things like substituting (e.g., replacing some of the Worcestershire sauce in a dish with liquid smoke, which tastes similar but is lower in sodium) that matters less.

Another thing I like is that they rarely use prepared foods like cake mixes. (They do use canned beans and frozen vegetables and the like, but that seems different). It makes the recipes more easily substitutable, if you want or need to do that (and also, what do you do if the specific mix you need for a recipe is discontinued? I have some old recipes that call for things like powdered white frosting mix, which is very hard to find now).

I've already tried one recipe from the book: one night we made the deep-dish pizzas. (Pizza is one thing I really love, but pizzas "from out" are off the menu for me now). I made mine as just plain cheese; my parents had one with bacon and veggies on it. The crust was very good - it attained the qualities of the better restaurant deep-dish crusts I've had: crisp outside - which you get by using lots of olive oil on the pan and a higher temperature; soft inside; and slightly sweeter than thin-crust pizza crust. There's also a super-simple tomato sauce recipe (a can of crushed tomatoes, olive oil, and garlic), which was also very good. (Also, I find that homemade pizza reheats more successfully - or at least, in my opinion it does - than most restaurant pizza).

I spent a lot of time looking through the book (it's enormous, like 600 pages, so it wound up in the box of books I mailed to myself). Lots of good recipes, lots of the "basic" recipes that are the typical ones most people like and make. Sometimes people ask me what "basic" cookbook I'd recommend to someone just starting out; I often say something like Fannie Farmer or perhaps the Joy of Cooking, but this one would definitely be high on the list, particularly if the person was interested in the history or geography of American foods.