After living in New York City for a few months, I realize that there's almost nothing you can't buy for your kitchen -- to fill your freezer, refrigerator, pantry and bar. For all foodies, this makes the city even more special than the smells of Halal carts at every corner. The only issue is choosing from hundreds of specialty stores and even worse, fighting the mob of yoga wearing housewives and not-so-adorable grandmothers in the narrow aisles.
Although there are times when it doesn't feel like it, there are certainly worse things than weaving through nannies with strollers, and waiting 10 minutes behind grandpas that really shouldn't be driving carts in a cold grocery store. Even when I thought it daft to wait behind the old man before getting to the produce section, I was reminded of the blood-orange and olive salad that would come out of that experience. And just when I thought I would never get a hold of Treviso, I found a basket of 12 (I remember the number because I bought them all) beautiful red bulbs -- even though it took four grocery stores to find the coveted bitter lettuce, at that moment I was filled with so much joy that even the employee working in the produce section congratulated me after I explained my almost-endless search. Believe me when I say that I can still taste that extremely satisfying beet treviso salad.
When I thought moving back to Dallas would make my grocery store outings so much brighter, I was wrong. Immediately upon arrival I went to a new store that sells a good amount of organic and high-quality ingredients. I walked in and thought "Where have all the people gone? This is a mecca for food, for every recipe you need ingredients for." I couldn't comprehend the lack of traffic-jams amongst the aisles. The grocery store was too big, cold and anything but cozy.
So reminiscing on the time when I couldn't find peach ice cream, and how the attempt to fold in peach preserves exacerbated my already despairing pie, I realize that waiting behind bubbie in line was really not so bad.