Sign in Subscribe

One year later

By Jesse Hirsch —
One year later
A is for Anniversary, Abby, Associated Supermarkets, and Alex Hinton.

by Abby Carney

Jesse wrote the second-ever issue of The Haul one year ago today. It was our anniversary, and we’d holed up in a random town in rural south Georgia after my friend Brigette’s Florida wedding. We’d considered staying on the coast, like normal tourists — St. Simons, Jekyll Island, even Savannah. But, for reasons unclear, we decided to celebrate our anniversary at a weird cabin across the road from a Piggly Wiggly, isolated from pretty much anything else.
(Note from Jesse: There was also a miserable little Christian coffee shop.)

We made so many trips to that grocery store. In between buying easy meals to prepare in our Airbnb — fancy flatbread pizza, frozen lasagna, breakfast burritos, and 2-3 cases of seltzer — we also went tipsy impulse shopping. With no consideration of our already-overstuffed luggage, we purchased homemade salsa, pickled quail eggs, a jar of spicy pickled sausages, matching Piggly Wiggly rain ponchos, a children’s coloring book. We giggled through the aisles, admiring labels and packaging, squealing over deals, marveling at items we’d never encountered. We were savoring one of our favorite shared activities: food shopping as a leisure activity, and a date.

It feels fitting that The Haul was born next to our anniversary. The surplus grocer can feel like Jesse’s domain, while I play the bedraggled harlequin, upset over bursting cupboards and seltz cans on the floor. Make no mistake: Grocery stores are a shared source of joy.

When we first started dating seven years ago, I didn’t have a system for grocery shopping. It was haphazard and chaotic. I’d go to Key Foods once every week or two and just…put things in my cart willy-nilly. No plan, no recipes in mind, all vibes. Spinach? OK. Jar of olives? Sure. Random baking ingredients, yogurt, ambitious meats that I may not get around to cooking before spoilage? Get ‘em.

I ended up ordering takeout often, even though I wasn’t earning a ton. Somehow I dredged up the coin for it, because I hadn’t learned how to manage my kitchen. When Jesse and I moved in together we slowly weaned ourselves off takeout and developed this very specific and surplus grocer-centered way of cooking and living.

But even though it feels like that we’ve been in this apartment forever, that East Harlem/New York is our permanent state — is it? I wonder what phases we’ll go through over the next seven years. When will we be forced to change our habits, adapt to new environments, buy groceries elsewhere?

One day we’ll see The Haul as a distinct and special time. We’ll have new customs and it will be a marvel that we were once as we are now. It's like a snapshot of an old bedroom. Taking the photo might have felt obligatory, but after getting knocked around a bit in life, the scene contains details that shake you with an earthquake of nostalgia: that dog-eared book on your desk, that brand of deodorant you thought you’d use forever, the necklace you wore every single day.  

In any case, this is a great phase to be in now. Long live The Haul, long live AbbyJesse, and thanks for letting me take the wheel!

<3

Abby        

P.S. from Jesse: Abby has always loved grocery shopping. Early in our courting she was always posting trippy Insta content from inside C Town and Key Foods. I found it quite charming! When a Brooklyn Associated Supermarket shut down, she convinced the workers to give her the big A (for Abby) from their sign — it’s still in our apartment.

Anyway, here’s Abby dancing:

(by Jesse)

I think Combos are just an "ok" snack, but $3 for 18 is a bananas deal. Also my big stupid thumb is over the part that says "Vend Only." I believe that this product was intended to refill vending machines!

If you're laughing about the name, grow up! This posh cheese is "extra mature," unlike yourself.

For some reason pepper is one of the random items the salvage grocer keeps behind the counter, like it's a top thievery temptation. Also sold there: hair dye, clove oil, and kratom. ANYway I mostly posted this pepper because we bought it at the beginning of the pandemic and it's finally running low. I get a little sad!

Point of order: Why is this "popcorn shaped?" You could make a case for "earplug shaped" or "fried scallop shaped."

Moving on, this treat fell to the bottom of our standalone freezer for a million years. The other night Abby was at a race — I excavated it for a popcorn-shaped party of one! Shouldn't have eaten them all in one sitting though.

For the uninitiated, Schaller & Weber is an old-school NYC mainstay, a la Russ & Daughters or Peter Luger. Abby took me there for fancy sausage on a birthday date two years ago; we had a lovely time. Flash forward to now, and the salvage grocer is selling these comely snackpacks for $1.49 each. Based on our visit to the store, I'd estimate they retail for about $90.

This particular delicacy is driving Abby out of her head. Our fridge is totally full but she keeps suggesting we buy more.

"But Abby we have a bunch of charcuterie already!"
"IS IT THE FINEST IN THE LAND???"