Super-duper-market

One thing that I really missed when I was living in New York was the whole idea of a supermarket. NYC is littered with just-plain "markets," meaning no laser-vision, no super-strength, and generally none of what you're actually looking for. What I was totally unaware of was that during my four years in New York, real supermarkets here in the suburbs have grown to astounding Wal-Mart-sized proportions, and pretty soon they'll come to life and destroy Tokyo unless Godzilla can stop them.

Now, when I came back home, I decided that I was going to learn to cook so that I could throw sweet-ass "Queer Eye" style parties (only not as gay) when I get my own place. That way I'd be popular and I wouldn't have to die alone. My first recipe, the simplest thing that I could find in the book: cheese sticks. They called for a pound of cheese, and even though my family is made up of a bunch of freaks and myself, we didn't happen to have a pound of cheese in our house. So it was time to head to the supermarket.

Remember when the supermarket was just for buying food and maybe the odd package of cat litter or bottle of bleach? Well, apparently the supermarket-shopping populace grew restless with only buying food and household products at the supermarket. That's why they built not just a "Stop and Shop" but a "Super Stop and Shop" at the Watchung Square Mall (which I have to say is like eighty percent parking lot and twenty percent mall). Where else can you get patio furniture, a carton of soy milk, and a home loan under one roof? Besides Wal-Mart, I mean. ←Wal-Mart's evil!

So here's my shopping list: 1 pound cheddar cheese (or other flavorful cheese), 8 oz (1 stick) of butter, a pinch cayenne pepper, coarse salt. We already have two cups of flour at home. All goes well: there's not much of a cheese selection, but I find the cheddar no problem. Butter is naturally way, way, way in the back — I think the supermarket should provide golf carts for the convenience, and fun, of its customers. Cayenne pepper is in the spice aisle, labelled "hot pepper." And salt... when exactly did salt mutate like a virus? There's kosher salt, sea salt, garlic salt, onion salt, garlic and onion salt, Mrs. Dash, celery salt, salt-free salt... what the fuck! Wasn't life confusing enough when all we had to worry about was creamy or chunky peanut butter?

Twelve dollars of food altogether, just for some crappy cheese sticks that, to be honest, I wasn't even really in the mood for. But I get home, I throw the cheese, flour, and butter in the food processor, and promptly make a mess of the kitchen. Mom would be proud. I do, however, come out with something that's a cross between dough and a tumor. It needs to be refrigerated for a day.... more on the cheese stick progress tomorrow.