“Whoa.” Number One’s eyes bugged out of his head as he peered into the brown bags the Turk dropped on the kitchen counter. Immediately, he called for his brother. “Yo Nug! Get down here! You gotta see this.”
Nugget bounded down the stairs with the heft of a man well beyond his 60 pounds. When he saw the goods Number One was uncovering, he too stopped in his tracks. “What the hell?” (I’ve tried, really, I have, but Nugget has a fondness for profanity and hell is his most pedestrian choice.)
“Can it, boys.” I could feel my blood pressure rising as my cheeks heated up and my jaw began to twitch. How could the Turk do something this reckless? Clearly, he had a death-wish. Lucky for him, the subzero New England temperatures meant the ground was frozen solid so digging a shallow grave for him was inpossible.
Nugget turned towards me, clutching a massive jar of Jiff peanut butter to his chest like a security blanket. “Mom? Are we rich now?”
“That’s what I was thinking!” Number One chided. “I mean, come on Mom, this is so not normal.” He pulled every item from the bags with a vintage Price Is Right girl hand flourish. “Ortega tortillas? Pace salsa? Who are we?”
That was the question. Who in the hell were we? While the jury seemed to be out at this point, I knew who we weren’t. We definitely were not the kind of people who consume name brand groceries. It has only been due to recent pandemic shortages that we have become the kind of family who pampers themselves with a high falutin brand like Charmin and as soon as supplies return to normal those days will be gone.
While my family has long called me a cheap ass, I prefer the term frugal. It’s not that I favor lesser quality goods, rather, I firmly believe that 98% off all store brand goods are exactly the same as their big money, name brand shelfmates. Why pay more for a fancy label? Years ago, I read an article about how the supermarket Aldi contracts with big-name producers to package their goods in Aldi packaging. General Mills makes a batch, then slaps a Cheerios label on half and a Crispy Oats label on the other half. Same goods, half the price. Frugal.
Through many phases of life, I’ve been broke. (I had a career in the arts, then became an expat. Not big wealth builders.) I also spent a large chunk of my childhood with a Depression era grandma. These things teach you how to make the most of less. Frugal, not cheap. But the only way to stay frugal is to keep tight reins on the groceries and never let The Turk do the shopping.
However, last week I slipped. I didn’t want to go out in the snow to get my groceries and the Turk, volunteered.
“I go to Home Depot in morning so I can stop and get grocery. Just give me list and I get it.”
Now, In the beginning of the pandemic my asthmatic ass wasn’t risking the food store so the Turk took care of things. (While it looked like a chivalrous move, really, he was terrified I’d get Covid and he’d be in charge of the kids.) His shopping was bad but there were lots of empty shelves and shortages so I took what I could get and let him off the hook….except for the 5 pound jar of mayo he thought was a good deal (we rarely eat mayo) and the industrial sized can of green beans he panic bought. Oh, and then there was the Dorito debacle. By the end of May I had 7 bags of store brand Doritos in my pantry. No one in our house likes Doritos.
“Honey, why do you keep buying these chips? No one eats them and now we have 7 bags.”
“They are on list.”
“No, they’re not. Why would I put something on the list nobody eats?”
“You say nacho chips on list every week. Look at bag. It say nacho cheese chips – aka nacho chips.”
“No. I mean chips FOR nachos.”
“That is not what you write so that is not what I buy.”
Somehow the great Dorito Debacle slipped from memory when my husband offered to grab the groceries. I made the foolish assumption that he would know enough to at least, go to the requested store, and remember his wife does not pay double price for name brand groceries. I wrote the Turk a detailed list with every item in order of where he would find it in the store. It was a shopper’s dream. He literally had to stop at Aldi, roll through the store and grab my 35 items. I even gave him an estimated price.
So, imagine my shock, after all that planning, when I saw 7 bags of name brand groceries sitting on my kitchen floor with a receipt for three times his estimated price.
“What the hell did you do?”
“I go Walmart. That list was mess. I was running all over store. Why you not put it in order like usual?”
“IT WAS! What in the hell were you doing at Walmart?!? You literally drove 15 miles out of your way to go to Walmart.”
“I know. Why you say go there?”
“I didn’t!!!!”
“No?”
“No. I said ALDI! I gave you a list for ALDI. I must have said ALDI like 50 times!”
“I do not hear you.”
Steam was spewing from my ears. “Plus, you know name-brands are not allowed. We can’t risk the kids getting accustomed to this kind of lifestyle. What were you thinking?”
Nugget jumped in front of him with half of a Nature Valley granola bar hanging from his mouth. “Don’t listen to her Baba! Don’t you dare listen to her!”
“No worries there, Nugget. Why would he start listening to me now?” I screamed, slamming a container of Morton salt on the counter before storming out.
For the past week I’ve had to listen to them gush about the freshness of Jiff and the creamy goodness of Cabot cheddar. Enjoy it while you can fools. Next week it’s back to cheese from the Happy Farms and Peanut Delight Creamy. Mama runs this show and you will never see name brands again. Happy shopping!