Union Square Market

I have come to the conclusion that New Yorkers have stronger forearms than everyone else in the nation. We don’t have the luxury of car trunks to stash our groceries; we usually have to carry them from the store, down the block, up the stairs, and finally into our kitchens. Granted, if we purchase too much we can either hail a cab or have our wares delivered, but people on a budget generally buy as much food as they can carry in a small grocery basket, and haul it home by foot (or subway and foot). After a particularly heavy basket, my forearms tend to feel the burn on the way home.

I have a couple of grocery stores within walking distance from my little apartment. C-Town is the closest, but I only go there if there is some kind of food emergency. It doesn’t have a lot to choose from, but the worst part about it is the smell. It smells like rotting food. Once I bought ice cream—a pint of Ben & Jerry’s even—and it tasted like that C-Town smell. I feel o.k. buying canned goods from the store, but absolutely refuse to buy produce or meat. So I generally walk up seven + blocks and go to Gristede’s. Still not Whole Foods (which I go to for soy milk and whenever I am feeling the need for luxury), but leaps and bounds better than C-Town. It smells tons better.

I went there yesterday, in fact, to get ingredients for some vegetable soup. I am so glad it is fall, and I can spend my weekends making yummy, hot soup. Since I knew my groceries were going to be heavy I grabbed a denim grocery bag that my mom made for me. A couple of years ago, I asked my mom to make me re-usable grocery bags for Christmas. I wanted to do my part for the environment. Funny thing though, I rarely remembered to bring them with me when I made my weekly trip to the store. (Sorry mom.) Even in NYC I tend to leave them at home, but that is mostly because I go to the store rather spontaneously. Good thing I heeded the promptings within that told me to bring a denim bag to the grocery store.

My grocery basket included, fresh green beans, tomatoes, apples, wheat crackers, celery, pasta, Glad ® freezer bags, two cans of tuna, a large can of tomato sauce, and five cans of beef broth. It was my heaviest basket ever, and I was not really looking forward to carrying it home. Then I remembered my denim bag, and felt a little bit more optimistic. You see, mom made it with longer handles, so I could carry it over my shoulder.

I stood in a very slow checkout line, and finally it was my time to pay. I am sure the cashier is a fine person, and perhaps he gets decent grades in school, but the kid really wasn’t too bright. As he packed up my groceries he put ALL of the heavy canned goods in one bag instead of dispersing them throughout. What was even funnier was that he informed me that he was going to do that for me. I remarked rather sarcastically, “Right, because that will make it easier to carry.” HE ACTUALLY BELIEVED IT WAS BETTER THAT WAY. My poor little forearms! But “A-HA!” I remembered my mom’s bag, and I stuck the canned goods in there. It was a heavy load, but I was at least able to carry it over my shoulder.

So, thank you mom for the best Christmas present ever. My arms thank you. Maybe, though, if I stay here long enough I will turn into one of those older ladies who use a wheeled basket for their trips to the market. Of course I will have to make sure that that certain checkout boy doesn’t do something do something lame again and place the heavy food on top of the bread and eggs.