It All Starts There

I’m always up for a challenge. Inspired by Ashley of Not Without Salt, I’m undertaking my biggest blog challenge yet, the National Blog Writing Month. The mission: 30 entries in 30 days. That means that on top of working, revising my novel, and cooking, I’ll be posting everyday in November. I hope you’ll stick with me!

So first things first: I needed to stock up for a full week of cooking. And that required a trip to the supermarket because really, it all starts there.


Since I was a kid the supermarket has been one of my favorite places, probably because going for groceries was always an event. When my mom opened the restaurant, my dad took over as household shopper, and, of course, I was his assistant. Though our trips always took place on Saturdays, the real work started on Sunday, when we’d sit at the kitchen table, clipping coupons from the Sunday paper. We weren’t as organized as some people, with their coupon files and grocery lists, instead, our coupons went into a kitchen drawer and, come Saturday, half were forgotten at home. It didn’t matter though, because our essentials, the meats, cheeses and vegetables, always came from the restaurant. Our groceries consisted of the fun stuff, the juice boxes and cupcakes we would take to school; the sweet smelling shampoo; a different box of cereal for each kid, and various bottles of sodas. The trips would always start with the consumption of a chocolate and toffee candy bar, and we’d graze progressively, sampling grapes from the produce isle or thinly sliced prosciutto from the deli, laughing the entire time.



I still feel the magic when I walk through the automatic doors of a supermarket, but now I realize that the entrancement is not with the actual store, but with the endless possibilities lurking in each isle. Usually, I shop without a list and wander through the store, dreaming up different things make for Gian Luca, usually picking up a treat or two along the way, just like when I was a kid.
See you tomorrow!