I do not enjoy grocery shopping because I do not enjoy cooking. Well, to be fair, I do enjoy cooking if I have time and resources to do it properly. I rarely have either, and almost never both at the same time.
In recent years, the task of purchasing food has gone to my spouse, the Carpenter, because he’s semi-retired and has time. Also, he doesn’t stop to talk to people, so he gets shopping done in a third of my time.
Recently, in a move not to be replicated again anytime soon, the Carpenter and I found ourselves doing the weekly shopping together (gasp). On the marital balance sheet, this experience goes in the “things I do not enjoy doing with my spouse” column.
There are some things my husband and I do together as a couple that I do enjoy. I can’t think of what they are at the moment. Heck, I’ve even forgotten about some of them. Wait, dancing in the kitchen is one. Talking trash about our competing sports teams. Those are some of the highlights.
There are plenty of things we do not enjoy doing together: sharing a bathroom (there is nothing sexy about this for either of us); driving anywhere for any length of time or distance, regardless of who is behind the wheel; picking out anything in the realm of home decor; and grocery shopping.
Add in the sudden insistence to only buy Canadian groceries, but still come in on a rather strict budget, and you have the makings of misery. Now, we’ve always been conscious of buying Canadian to support local retailers. We fully support the Canadian-made movement. Always have.
I hope the grocery chains get real clear and honest on their merchandising so buying Canadian is made easy and clear. But until that time grocery shopping is now even less fun. It’s homework. Well, for me anyway. For the Carpenter, though, it’s like he’s become a detective, sleuthing out the truth of what’s made where. No app required. Grocery shopping with him is like being a kid and shopping with your mom and she says no to all the good cereals with marshmallows and fruity flakes because she says sugar is evil, and she doesn’t care that your friend Julie’s mom allows this garbage in her house because Julie’s mom doesn’t make the decisions for us, and Julie is a spoiled brat. Hmph.
Suffice it to say, our recent grocery shopping experience took way longer than expected, and it’s not because I saw everyone I know and made small talk for hours. It wasn’t Saturday. Sheesh. No, the challenge here was looking at every label on every item going into our cart to ensure its Canadian status.
My attempt at meal planning for a few days was quickly thwarted by all the ingredients no longer allowed. It was a real eye-opener. I was a little embarrassed at how little Canadian I bought in my previous life, or how much I assumed was Canadian and was not. Guys, I am down a chip dip brand.
Yet for the Carpenter, the reward was in his ability to uncover the truth on those labels, to uncover the origin story of sauces, snacks and side dishes.
We’re still married. We continue to support Canadian farmers, producers and retailers.
Canada strong. Shop smart.
