The secret to reducing the stress of shopping for groceries: Go early, before 8 a.m. You will be among just a few customers; you will find no long lines at the checkout. You might even save a few bucks on chicken and other proteins significantly discounted as a “manager’s special.”
If in the mood — that is, if neither you nor the cashier are overly grumpy — you might also have time for friendly conversation.
During the midday and late afternoon rush hours, this is nearly impossible. And, of course, it never happens in the self-checkout pen.
But, before 8 a.m., with a familiar cashier — the efficient but congenial woman you’ve come to know over years of shopping in the same supermarket — it can be a positive social experience.
And we all need those, if only in short doses.
In my case, the conversation is almost always about what I plan to cook.
“What do you do with these?” the cashier asked, holding up a pair of leeks bound by a blue rubber band. It seemed like the kind of question she wanted to ask a customer but never had time. But between 7 and 8 a.m., while checking out a single shopper, there was.
“I chop them up and put them in soup,” I said. “Or you can slice them nice and thin and just saute them in butter, or mix them with mashed potato.”
“The whole thing?” she asked.
“The tender part is the white part, the bottom half,” I said. “Sometimes I just save the green tops to make stock.”
Another time, she held up a bunch of Andy Boy broccoli rabe.
“What’re you going to do with this?” she wanted to know. “What’s the taste?”
“It’s a slightly spicy green,” I said. “I just wash them, chop them and saute them in garlic and olive oil.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Some people blanch them first to soften them up,” I said. “But I don’t like to overcook them. . . . It’s also good on pizza. It’s not one of the cheap greens, but if you’re sick of kale, you might want to try broccoli rabe.”
“I might do that,” the cashier said. “And what about this? Have you tried this?”
It was a frozen flank of salmon, already seasoned. I usually don’t buy anything pre-seasoned, but this was a new product on sale in an appealing package.
“No,” I said. “First time I saw it. Just $9.99. Thought I’d try it.”
“How do you cook salmon?” the cashier asked. “On the grill?”
“I’m not good at that,” I said. “But, yeah, if I grill salmon, I’d get one of those grilling planks made of cedar.”
“We have those at home, but I haven’t used them yet. Are they good?”
“Yeah, better than aluminum foil. It infuses the fish with the wood flavor,” I said. “But, if you ask me, the best way to make salmon in summer . . .”
“What’s that?” she asked, scanning my groceries while I bagged.
“Poach a whole filet in salted water, a little white wine and lemon and bay leaf. Then chill it and serve pieces of it cold with a sauce…”
“What’s in your sauce?”
“You can use sour cream or mayo,” I said. “You mix it with a finely chopped cucumber, lots of dill, maybe some minced onion or shallot, a little olive oil and lemon.”
“That sounds good.”
“My favorite way to eat salmon in summer. You should try it.”
The cashier then asked about the big jug of white vinegar and two containers of store-brand salt I had placed on the conveyor.
“What’re doing with all this, making cleaner?” she asked.
“Weed killer.”
“For real?”
“You mix vinegar with salt and some water, and you have a weed killer. And it works.”
“Really?”
“I’m telling you, in hot weather, turns the weeds brown in 24 hours. But you gotta put it right on the plants you want to kill, and not on the flowers nearby. It’s strong.”
Another shopper got in line behind me and seemed interested in the conversation.
The cashier rang me up and announced the total. I asked if my frequent-shopper rewards had been applied. You can use the rewards to either reduce your grocery bill or the per-gallon price of gasoline at Shell stations.
“Groceries or gas, either way they get you,” I said.
“Yeah,” the other customer said, “it’s bad out here. But what can you do?”
“You can vote for someone else,” I said.
The cashier and customer laughed as I pushed my shopping cart away.
“You have a good day,” the cashier said, “and let me know about that salmon.”
“I’ll get back to you on that.”
Dan Rodricks writes a weekly column for Baltimore Fishbowl. He can be reached via danrodricks.com
