When I first moved to Connecticut, I went to the grocery store to stock up on the important things: brown sugar, powdered sugar, flour, chocolate chips, baking soda & powder, vanilla, cinnamon, all-spice, and nutmeg. You know: all the things you need to survive.
When I got to the register, the cashier smiled and said: “Oooh, this is a good one.”
“A good what?” I asked.
“A good story,” he said. “Every basket full of groceries tells a stories. This is going to be a good one.”
I had plans to make a spice cake, which was the best one I’d ever made, plus chocolate chip cookies. But was this any more pleasant than anyone else’s grocery order?
“The last guy that came through just bought a plunger,” he said, laughing.
Clearly, my pile of things on the conveyor belt was much more pleasant.
But if your grocery list can tell a story, how about what you’ve cooked/baked in the past 48 hours tell a story?
Here’s a try:
-balsamic vinegar chicken with rice & a seven-vegetable salad, followed by a pan of fresh brownies, graham cracker ice cream with rainbow sprinkles, and fresh-brewed chai
-blueberry muffins, cheesy scrambled eggs, strawberry parfait, and more chai
-pasta mix of chicken, peaches, veggies, and a fruit-style sauce (orange juice, rice vinegar, soy sauce, & brown sugar)
-more chai (love the cocoa-latte maker)
-breakfast rolls with strawberry rhubarb jam baked inside, and lemon icing on top, with scrambled eggs and green tea
What story does this tell?
When you add in a couple of bottles of wine, some cheese and freshly cut strawberries, then then you start to see the story more clearly: I had a visitor. From a foreign country. Who I was trying to impress with my vastly improved cooking skills, at least in comparison to the last time I cooked for her in 2010.
The only bad part of the story is that it ends here. I wish she were staying longer!