Abby just flung the Overton Window wide open by pouring seltzer on my head in retaliation to some wisecrack. It was Polar blueberry lemonade flavor, to answer your first question. I can't remember my joke, to answer the second question. I only know that this household has now
I got Covid last week and still feel weird. Who even gets Covid anymore? So gauche. Pretty sure I caught it from my congested yoga teacher, who kept telling everyone he didn't have Covid (sure sign of having it). Suppose it could have been the lady sneezing next
I took hot yoga at 8am this morning. En route to the train I saw two (2) old ladies, both covered in face tattoos, visibly struggling to stay upright. I don't think they knew each other. Also a young guy was stomping around yelling "We need Trump
Happy Saturday. I'm indoors, breathing the dry raspy air of a space heater, with notes of flatulence from my sleeping pup. I'm working today, as I often do on weekends. Nights aren't really free spaces either, unless you mean after 9 p.m. — time
When I was a newspaper reporter in rural Wisconsin, I'd buy weed from the skater kids who crushed energy drinks near my office. The wisdom of our arrangement was called in question when I ran into one of the kids while reporting at the courthouse — he was being
Abby and I took a Sabbath this weekend, from absolutely everything. It's a stripped-down idea - we simply spent the whole weekend together without an agenda. No working, no household chores, no social plans, just following our fancies to the end of the avenue. Yesterday we did hot
by Pearse Anderson (Editor's Note: I've been sitting on this post from Mr. Pearse for way too long - today is the day. Before we go there I want to gas up Abby a bit, because she made a bunch of homemade valentines and distributed them
A plumber finally drove up from Brooklyn this week to fix our palsied radiator. He was more drunk than I expected (hit other cars 5+ times when trying to parallel park) but was very gentle with Lola. After inspecting the radiator, he snarked at our super's botched repairs
Every morning I wake up and empty the pan full of dirty water next to my bed. This water collects overnight from a broken radiator, a problem our building super is aware of but incapable of fixing. I called this water-dumping ritual "emptying my bed's diaper,"
Mutual aid runs powerful here in East Harlem. Especially in the holiday months, various church and charity groups set up card tables on street corners. Sometimes they have hot coffee and pastries, sometimes it's chili or boxed lunches, sometimes they have free clothes and toiletries — no questions asked.
I just posted a couple of ill-advised Instagram videos, popping off about the genocide in Gaza — this is not a relaxing Saturday. A visit to the surplus grocer earlier set the tone: As soon as I walked in it was clear the vibes were off. So much yelling. A very
This week an older lady, wearing a hat with a fascinator and a half-veil, got into a good-natured banter battle with another customer. "Who has been coming here longer" was the game, and she won. "I been coming here since this store opened, in the middle '
If we left East Harlem, there aren't many places I'd want to move. I'm from lovely Western Mass. and have considered a triumphal return home, but my gut tells me I'd feel claustrophobic. Too many familiar faces, too much history. Also a
It's a 3-day weekend! FYI. I've told a few stories before about people losing their shit in the surplus grocer. I'm not too proud of my role in these situations, absorbing the drama and gossiping about it with the cashiers later. Truth is, our
by Nicole Harvey (Note from Jesse: This is Part 2 of Grocery Weirdos Rise Up - sorry for the delay! When we left off, Nico was entering Grocery Outlet with her partner CJ.) Left on the Shelf Items Nicole didn't buy. After the fashion of grocers everywhere, Grocery
by Nicole Harvey How grateful am I that The Haul exists? Something I had considered my own narrow focus—grocery by lottery—also turns out to be a pursuit for other weirdos. Many thanks to Jesse and Abby for the nourishment and/or artificial crab meat product. Is it hyperbolic
I woke up too early this Sunday morning. Abby is sleeping, Lola is sleeping, Sadie is sleeping, the bugs that plague this house are also having a snooze. My first thought upon awaking was: "It would be easy to write a quick post." So I made myself two
by Jesse Hirsch Hi everybody. Quickie post, inspired by erstwhile Haul contributor Casey Kuhn! For her fun post a little while back, I sent her a salvage care package. And here is the official unboxing video, wherein Casey discovers shelf-stable cheese: What a fun video! Casey and I would be
by Pearse Anderson Refrigeration always seems to be a challenge in a surplus grocer: Frequently, purchased wholesale foods are shelf stable, so a fridge is just another expense. If there’s no large row of chillers, why go through the logistical hurdles to purchase and store a lot of chilled
Hi, sorry to send two emails in one day. I just have a wee favor for you, if I may. I never intend to charge money for this newsletter unless I like, lose my job or need a kidney (you buy those, right?) But it would be fun to have
by Jesse Hirsch Pearse is in Scotland — I saw him on Instagram wearing a kilt but implying it might actually be a miniskirt? Some kind of inscrutable humor from the British Isles. Glad he's having fun. I don't really want to burden the lad with "
by Jesse Hirsch Mr. Pearse is going to be so cross with me. He submitted a new Haul post two (2) weeks ago and I've been lazily sitting on it like a content hoarder. Consolation to the young chappy — here is Pearse's Eater debut, a très*
Hi, Jesse here. I got back from Texas yesterday nursing a demonic headcold. The cold started pretty mild but on Friday night Abby and I had a bit too much nightlife. I only got 4 hours of un-sober sleep before the flight home; my immune system now feels completely ravaged.
Hi, Jesse here. Pearse generously sent me 11 (!) pages of content to use while Abby and I plan our glamorous wedding that no one is invited to, not to mention an ambitious print publication that I'm making for work — you are the FIRST to hear of this — and
View this post on Instagram A post shared by Jesse Hirsch (@jesse.hirsch) Story time! I've been with Abby for seven (7) years, as of this past February. The video above came from a momentous 2018 vacation to France. I proposed to Abby on that trip, on the
My mom bought us an Omaha Steaks sampler box this Christmas. Ok she didn't actually purchase it — she gave us a pamphlet with all the items listed, and called in an IOU. Smartly, my mom deduced we may not have immediate freezer space (Exhibit A), and asked us
In our neighborhood, a handful of stores plaster their entrances with photos of accosted shoplifters, an unsubtle warning to all. Every perp is made to pose with the items they tried to steal: Middle-aged woman clutching a bag of tortilla chips she'll never eat. Teenager with a pack
Did I tell you Abby is now a daily writer for Runner's World? Combining your passions is lucky! Abby's dad said he knows "what it must feel like to be or have been the father of Jane Austen or J.K. Rowling." The downside
No Haul this week, just a preview of content to come. xo, Jesse
This week Abby and I went to a press dinner and ate artisan pasta and filet mignon. Did you know that is Abby's favorite cut of steak? She'd be happy to tell you all about it. I tease her: "I heard you also think Porsche
By Pearse Anderson Chicago correspondent Pearse Anderson here with a Valentine’s Day haul. Love is in the air! As is “wedding cake popcorn,” my newest 50-cent purchase. Imagine bringing this to a divorce hearing: For V-Day this year, I bought my partner Monica the acclaimed bird gaming expansion Wingspan
On my way to Tel Aviv right now,* for a climate conference/Israeli propaganda tour. It's the longest flight I've ever taken, clocking in at 10.5 hours. There are 100 peppy Christians seated all around me who are embarking on a Holy Land pilgrimage. I&
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.
I'm writing this here post on an airplane, headed home from an exciting/exhausting week in Los Angeles. It was a work retreat; I spent so much time with my colleagues. They're a good bunch of humans, but my extroversion has been sanded down in the
This week I'm going to try out a bunch of new sections. Let me know what you like! xo, Jesse Banter Alley Interactions with store workers. On Friday my homie Lacey came over for a visit. We got food from the birria truck and walked it back to
By Pearse Anderson Last time I wrote for The Haul, I was exploring Chicago’s Continental Sales “Lots 4 Less” while Jesse was in Pleasantville, New York, eating steak for brekkie. Now the tables have turned, and I’m in New York covering their surplus grocery scene — this time, Upstate!
I bought six cans of irregular seltzer today, some dented, some swollen. Mala told me they were no good, but I argued and he sold them on discount. They were the very last cans of seltzer (besides some stray LaCroix, puke) so I couldn't be choosy. While I
What started as occasional surplus seltzer purchases — 2-liter bottles of mandarin orange Canada Dry, to be precise — has morphed into an all-consuming lifestyle, as I have aggressively chronicled here. I never asked if you wanted to hear so much about seltz, but I'm taking your silence as consent.
Kind of an odd year, this. The first 25% was objectively awful, blending professional and interpersonal angst in a way I would not recommend. And yet, that's when I started this silly ol' newsletter, and committed to the bit. The first edition of The Haul came out
Besides the occasional admission of, say, some moldy minced garlic or spoilt bisque, I tend to focus on the treasures rather than the trash. I fear I'm sharing a glossed-over, gussied-up version of the salvage grocer. Lest anyone accuse The Haul of anything other than radical transparency, here
Happy Ghost migration day! All of my old posts are here now, so let's never discuss the past again. Tuesday was Abby's birthday so Mr. Romantic (me) popped in to the salvage grocer at lunchtime to see if they had any frozen pizzas. "Shopkeep, bring
This will be the final Haul post from Revue — next week you'll get an email from my new Ghost home! I'll be totally honest: I haven't wanted to switch platforms, for the same reasons people stay in crappy marriages long past their expiration dates.
When I worked at an ice cream parlor in my early 20s, I drew up a backup marriage contract with my friend Rhi while killing time on a mid-winter shift. I can't remember the document's timeframe, but I think it was 10 years from the date
Elon Musk may seem comfortably distant from this newsletter, a sweaty princeling throwing tantrums on a faraway planet. Well I have some news, some dour news, some oh-so-sour news: Twitter owns this newsletter platform and is shutting it down by end of year. I'm pretty sure he'
I have spent my life as a proud and vocal champion of free expression. I would like The Haul to be a platform for ALL voices to be heard, and I will not suppress politically unpopular speech. That's why I'm bringing you yet another edition of
Abby and I were not invited to any Halloween parties this year, and it's a sore spot. We love to dress up and act weird (many wigs in this household) but there was no calling. They did a Zoom costume contest at my job, but it was hard
-Yesterday a woman poked her head inside the surplus grocer and said to the door guy, "Mustafah, you have any Tylenol?" He peered behind the counter where they keep their most precious sundries (pistachios, coconut oil, kratom, Godiva chocolates) and said "No mum, I'm sorry
Hello friends. My father is visiting for the weekend and he got to see a real-life Haul unboxing yesterday. When I took out the Klondike ice cream sandwiches he said "I'll take some of those!" which is a perfect dad thing to say. We want to
There's a new supermarket in our neighborhood, and it's making me feel weird. Do you know the Food Bazaar chain? It's not very big, but it is mighty. They have 30+ locations in the metro NYC area, and the chain has been snapping up
Should I start calling the surplus grocer the "salvage grocer?" The terms are often used interchangeably but the latter feels more accurate, as I consider it. "Surplus" implies that everything is a result of a store overstocking or over-ordering products. But that's only one
The dream is real: Surplus grocer workers have started weeding the seltzer out of the massive soda pallets, then setting them aside just for us! I'd like to pretend it's because they love us so much, but really it's because I'm a
Either our luck has run out, or the surplus grocer's standards have slipped. We've been witnessing more spoilage, is what I'm trying to say. I mentioned the rancid lobster bisque and the spoiled can of La Colombe, but just this week a quart of
Yesterday I got home at noon from a 15-hour overnight flight, feeling pretty ragged. Before naptime, however, I dragged Abby to the surplus grocer, a place I missed while in Maui. Not as much as I missed Abby or Lola, but keep in mind that they are warm and loving
The surplus grocer workers can grow impatient with our seltzer scavengery. The cans are stacked high on enormous pallets, mixed in hodgepodge with ginger ale and iced tea and prebiotic soda for weirdos. Thus Abby and I have to crouch down to find seltzer cans on the perimeter of the
(Note: When I tried to send this last night, a message popped up that said, literally, "Woah there tiger, you're only allowed to send one newsletter per day!" Goofy and condescending — I may be switching platforms soon.) Abby is doing gig work at the US Open
I read a really relatable essay by Aram Mrjoian about anti-food-waste behavior that can come off as compulsive but is actually a way of processing his anxiety about climate change. Some elements were less relatable, like the fact that he's been acting like this since college, but the
I got a couple of common responses to my recent subscriber outreach: 1) "Your lifestyle is alarming, I am far too grossed out/afraid of food poisoning for that." (One respondent detailed a traumatic trip to the ER several years back.) 2) "I love your laissez-faire approach
~Welcome new subscribers!~
On Seltzer Bay
Pictured above is my favorite surplus grocer delivery driver (there are dozens). The day that photo was taken, he had showed up with an enormous load of Rockstar energy beverage that was more than the modest store could bear — everyone seemed stressed. I kept hearing murmurs of "Rockstar Rockstar
Just a quickie this week! Started my new job on Monday and between that and some freelancing and social fun, things have been a bit hectic. Speaking of which, I suppose it's time to announce what that job is (Haul readers get the exclusive first peek.) I'
Suppose I could offer paid subscriptions for The Haul, but then I'd feel obliged to make it good. I prefer the sloppy, devil-may-care livejournal vibe of writing whatever I want each week — without the burden of paid subscribers. And truly, this is a fun trifle in my life,
For my last newsletter, I did a Mailbag roundup. You probably remember because it was only one week ago. Well guess what? I got a scathing piece of reader mail* in response: READER COMMENTS??? Oh, how the mighty have fallen. This kind of yucky attitude makes me want to do
I briefly considered the subject line "Feedbag" but was immediately hit with a wave of exhaustion. Clever and quippy simply isn't the vibe right now. AND YET. Here's another edition of a clever, quippy newsletter about one man's journey to discover all
For the last few months I've been stopping by the surplus grocer every day, which I pretend is French behavior. You know the vibe? Sashay down to the greengrocer, canvas tote slung over shoulder, grabbing just enough for one night's dinner. "Shopkeep, fetch me dandelion
Hi everybody. Hard not to feel extremely bleak about our future — I'm guessing most of us are on the same page here. I'm going to share the first few entries in our cooking diary, then see you next week.
During the ol' pandemic (for the record I never once called it a panini or a panda or whatever), much hay was made about our new national hobbies. Sourdough and puzzles were the obvious power players, but let's not forget "kitchen herb gardens," "banging
Several weeks ago I started a 2-part post, promising more information about our extracurricular shopping habits. Then I forgot! You must have been so upset, but also this newsletter is free. ANYway here is a list of our supplementary food suppliers. Most of our home-cooked meals involve combinations of surplus
In our household patois, we call the surplus grocer "the dollar store" because the shabby awning looks just like 100 indie dollar stores dotting Harlem. It advertises all manner of housewares and miscellany, with only light mentions of foodstuffs. I initially thought this was a clever ruse, to
Ed. Note: Hello from Pleasantville, New York, where I just ordered a steak and cheese sandwich for breakfast at an Italian deli (I am not hungover, simply in a mood). The old-school clerk seemed equal parts angry and impressed, though part of his pique could have been my request for
I mailed my mom a present not long ago. For one weekend, the legendary Ukrainian mainstay Veselka was donating 100% of the proceeds of all their mail orders to Chef José Andrés' Ukraine relief efforts in Ukraine. My mom is a fan of a) food treats in the mail
After my (former) employer allowed me to write about the surplus grocer, I printed up like six copies and brought it to the store. We were fairly friendly with the workers—I see them much more than my actual friends—but it was still a bit awkward. There's
Hi all, It's been a tough week for a lot of people! Self-care can seem silly but obviously it's vital. Taylor is spot on here. Abby and I have been chugging extra cans of seltz this week, a nonstop deluge of fruity carbonation. Exceedingly obnoxious how
Hi All, Let's talk about our mouse problem. You're not going to like this. We're on the first floor of our building, adjacent to a vacant lot. For us and our neighbor Anaya, this means a steady stream of field mice sneaking into our
Hey everybody—do you know where I live? One writer/follower recently expressed surprise that I don't live in like, Williamsburg or Bushwick. Another said, "For some reason i had this idea that you lived somewhere very spacious and outdoorsy." Neither of these suggestions are correct,
Hi everybody,Not much going on in my life, so let's talk about surplus groceries. On Wednesday morning I visited the store soon after it opened at 9am. Before leaving the house, I announced it was time for my "retail therapy," a tired old gag I cannot stop repeating. In some ways it isn't a joke at
Hi all,It's been a tough week! My brain is linguine. Let's skip the ~narrative~ portion of our weekly proceedings and head directly to The Haul.Okay fine, here's a recent selfie:
I mean, some of it definitely has to do with not drinking much these days.As our lifestyle mellows, it's nice to have an alt-beverage to channel our passions into. Though I honestly can't remember ever being this vocal about beer: I probably say 3-4 times a day (ask Abby): "Oh my god is this refresh
What tipped the scales, I ask myself. How did we go from a fairly conventional household of mild-mannered seltzer drinkers to the full-on rabid bev freaks we are today? It started with the 2-liter bottles of Canada Dry mandarin orange seltz ($1.49) I spied one day at the surplus
At a recent dinner party, our friend Lacey shared that her parents were developing late-in-life eccentricities. "So they've started drinking no water except seltzer. All seltzer, every day. Can you even imagine?!"* Abby and I exchanged furtive glances. I had slammed 4 cans of LaCroix since
Hi there,Surely you're salivating for an all-seltzer post, but alas—its day has not come. For our apartment was broken into, you see, and I've only had space to think about that. (Hot yoga and an ambitious cooking project gave a touch of distraction, but not enough.)I'll give the abridged version, a
Hi friends,Bit of an abbreviated issue this week, as I'm doing an involuntary 5K Sunday morning, which means I'll spend most of my weekend making a big deal about it. (I never run, don't like running, probably never will.)Drumroll please: Time to unveil the official Haul logo!!!
Hi everybody,I have nearly 200 subscribers to this blossoming newsletter, so it surely won't be long before Substack offers me a six-figure sponsorship. In the meantime, let me give back to all the little people who helped launch this multinational lifestyle brand. Time for reader mail!First off, we
Wanna be my best buddy? Help me fill in this nagging memory hole:I once read/heard about someone who played a novel game with their leftovers. The details escape me, but it was like a daisy chain of leftover food: They started with leftover spaghetti which they then used to make a frittata, then the
I went away for a week, so the number one order of business was a trip to the surplus grocer. Before noon. First day back.I always concoct an urgent need - this time it was half and half. It's a product I use every day, but we honestly had enough to last another week. Abby barely raised an eyebrow,
Hi everybody. It's Sunday afternoon* in Townsend, Georgia, which you likely haven't heard of. We're staying in a little log cabin inside an RV park. There are few restaurants nearby, so we'll be getting dinner from the Piggly Wiggly across the street. They had a pretty good frozen section - I have m
Good morning, and hello. It's the day after NYC got a snow pummeling and I'm in a certain mood about it. I left the house twice in the storm. First, for a morning hot yoga class, and second, for the surplus grocer. In the final resting