I’m doing the Thanksgiving cooking for us this year, for the first time in several years. I really enjoy cooking, when I have the time to do so; I’m very much looking forward to this. But the first step in Thanksgiving cooking is not usually my favorite: the grocery shopping.
This year the shopping promised to be even more “special” — my injured ankle (healing, but still swollen and sore) didn’t seem likely to make the experience more pleasant. I made the trip down the hill to our local Albertson’s shop, and went to work on my gigantic list.
Amongst the items on this list was one I don’t normally shop for: lard. I cannot remember ever buying lard before. But my apple pie recipe insisted that the crust had to be made with lard, and not shortening, so there it was on my list. But where would it be in the store? I looked first in the meat counter; no dice. Then I looked where the butter and shortening was; it wasn’t there either. So I looked around for a store employee to ask, and spotted a young Hispanic kid with an Albertson’s button. “Can you tell me where you hide the lard?” I asked. With a smile playing on his face (so I knew he was joking), he said “Are you asking me this because I’m Mexican?” And then he led me to the lard, which was with the baking supplies (who knew?). For those of you not familiar with Mexican cooking, it uses a lot of lard…
A few minutes later, I was looking for any kind of turkey scraps that might be available (necks, gizzards, etc.) in the hopes of finding some things that might help make a nice gravy. The same kid was nearby, so I asked him. Without missing a beat, he said “What do you white people do with that stuff?"
This young man’s easy humor and obvious comfort in his own skin (so to speak) really lightened the load I felt on this otherwise not-so-much-fun shopping expedition. Unfortunately my checkout experience wasn’t nearly as nice — the woman immediately in front of me in line wasted 25 minutes of everybody’s time basically trying to scam the store into letting her buy 24 gallons of bleach and 50 boxes of cereal for 50% off — and letting her pay with a check written on a Mexican bank, without her showing any ID at all. She finally left all her bleach and cereal at the counter and stomped out … but only after I had to wait 25 minutes while she attempted her “robbery”.
The kid was much more fun…
