Counterpoint: More hot dogs

As soon as Abby published my Bub Street Diet, the surplus grocer got a sexy new brand of hot dog that overpowered me.

One of my pals thinks "small batch" is hilarious for a hot dog. Also the brand page for these wieners feels rather corporate, aka big batch. "We've heard people like artisanal things so let's add something to our brand portfolio."

Branding aside, these are phenomenal in both flavor and snap; I bought multiple packages to freeze.

While everything is spiraling, I don't mind eating a dog a day. It's "Do It Lady Summer" (thanks Maureen), which is nihilism wearing the guise of self-care. My only caution is that I don't want to become politically complacent, shopping and eating as a way to plug my ears (and mouth).

One of the surplus grocer cashiers has a brother who isn't doing well. Abby and I have known him for years now, and have watched his mental health deteriorate. He hangs out under the scaffolding near our house most days, muttering and twitching and drinking bodega coffee.

Yesterday while I was buying the day's Haul, a customer came in and announced that the cashier's brother had been harassing her - said she almost "had to lay hands on him." The cashier replied with a dark laugh, "I wish ICE would get him!" (They are from Senegal.) Ooph.

Sometimes the surplus grocer can feel like a refuge from the real world, when I'm overwhelmed by, say, seeing babies slaughtered or people reveling in cruelty. But the store exists in the actual world - from reduced SNAP benefits to ICE raids to straight up racism, current events trickle into my favorite place and shape its rhythms. It is not an island.

Anyway, Abby's napping and I said I'd clean the bathroom before she woke up. Guess that's a wrap!

xo,

Jesse

This is a new section, and it's not about our bizarre/posh/hilarious one-off hauls. It's the prosaic groceries they almost always have in stock, items we have bought there dozens of times.

You know how eggs have become a popular economic indicator? I vote for this stuff, which Abby uses for her daily workout smoothies. At a regular grocery store, the prices have spiked in the last year or so - you can't find any Greek yogurt for less than $7.50! The surplus grocer usually keeps some in stock, maybe 60% of the time.

(After a long drought, they just got a bunch in, so we bought five tubs. Three had spoiled! I brought them back with my best "not mad just disappointed" face.)

Don't be fooled by the sticker, these are only a buck. By no means are they super, or even all that good. But with a couple minutes of pan grilling they are a perfectly serviceable vehicle for my near-daily dogs.

This is one of three or four brands of imported pasta they get in various shapes. But where is this legendary "Pasta City?" you may ask. Why it's in Turkey, of course, global home for all the finest pasta.

At a recent picnic with our friend Funhog, we staged a rare seltzer-brand trifecta. If only we had a) a second friend and b) a can of Schweppes, it would have been a surplus grocer sweep!

These are the legendary hot dogs I never get to eat because I'm not allowed inside Costco! (There was no incident, I'm just not a member.) If you look closely, you'll see this is almost 4 pounds of dogs.

This is an enormous tuna loin, which only cost 12 bucks! I cut it into a bunch of individual steaks and put them all in the slow cooker, then made a killer Niçoise salad. We froze the rest, though, because tuna steaks are a bit toxic.

This is one of those items that isn't typically sold in stores - it's intended for restaurants/food service (which is why there isn't really a brand name.) We noticed something funny: They called them striped pangasius fillets, which sounds very fancy. But striped pangasius is just another word for swai, which is another word for regular old catfish.

This is not shade, though - I love catfish.

It's hard to tell from this pic, but this is legit fresh pasta (albeit frozen). It's imported from Italy, one of Turkey's up-and-coming rivals in the pasta game. The coolest part is that this noodle shape is square, not round.

I like to try all the new faux dairy and meat products, because I'm woke. This one was intriguing, because it allegedly melts like the real deal. Plus I don't know if I've tried oat-based cheese.

Spoiler: Even mixing this with real Monterey Jack was not enough to cover up its bizarre, earthy mouthfeel. Plus it turned gray when it melted and shellacked our tacos like rubber cement. We did not make it through the bag.