Gimme Seltzer (Part 1)

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 arriving at dinner, stopping only when the hosts ran out. At home, our recycling bin was choked with empty cans of flavored Canada Dry—pomegranate cherry, lemon/lime, black cherry, triple berry, and mandarin orange. We were the same as Lacey's boomer parents, if not worse.

Abby says we are "bev-heads," which feels cute when we use it privately but suddenly I feel shame.

*

I acquired the taste maybe five years ago, after a lifetime of vocally hating on carbonated water. I inherited this aversion from my doggedly anti-seltz mother, whose feelings could be summarized like: "Why ruin water with bubbles?" I wish I remembered the precise tipping point when I softened on seltzer, but I recall it was summer, and hot (as is the season's wont). I liked how seltzer made me not feel thirsty.

The next step in my evolution was an obnoxious bit I started doing, where I'd order seltzer at a meal, then make a big show of what a remarkable beverage I'd discovered. "Have you guys ever tried seltzer water? It's so good, really delicious! You wanna try mine? Here just take a sip. Do it." It's one of those wry routines where people aren't clear on whether I'm joking, yet I play it 100% straight every time. I'm my own top audience.

At some point I inherited a Sodastream seltzer maker, an alleged cost saver, though some quick back-of-napkin math calls into question whether those pricey CO2 cartridges are actually cheaper than like, buying generic 2-liter seltz bottles. No matter, a) it's better for the planet and b) it's muy convenient to have seltzer always on tap. And if you don't want to support the controversial Sodastream company, there's a Wisconsin startup that provides replacement canisters without the baggage. (I will never ever subscribe to one of those mustachioed old timey-style Brooklyn seltzer home deliveries, largely on principle.)

But in the last six months, something happened at the surplus grocer that made my household even more irrational and weird about seltzer. It all started when...oh what's that? ~touching earpiece~ Sorry gang, I'm getting word that we're out of time for this week's edition of The Haul. The upshot? You'll get another week of fresh seltzer content! Until then.

xo,

Jesse

*One of Lacey's top concerns is how all that seltzer would damage your teeth, which is fake news well-documented. Coincidentally, I did get some recent dental work on a tooth that lost its enamel. Shrug.

Featured Items

Three pounds of shrimp! Succulent and plump! Great for dipping! Breaded! Round! (Abby asked if "round shrimp" is a species. I raised one eyebrow meaningfully.)

We've purchased Sea Best fish filets before, and they're usually big on transparency, e.g., "line-caught tilapia from coastal Southeastern U.S." or whatever. Yet these shrimp were curiously absent of an origin story, a sharp contrast to these clearly labeled shrimpies from the same company. Oopsie I figured out why: tinyyyyy print "Made in China" and an aquaculture seal. Sea Best is based in Jacksonville, Fla., but these duders came from a Chinese shrimp farm. Global commerce is wild!

Also: The shrimp were tightly packed together in this box, a big rectangle of frozen crustacean. I have to pry them off individually using cooking shears. Weirdly, they estimate a very specific 41-50 shrimp per box, but by my count the number was close to 100. Abby suggested that Sea Best hires "bad counters."

I've mentioned India's Nature products here before; we tried a decent vegan simmer sauce a little while back. We liked this one even better, though it is quite intense! Food Republic has a nice primer on "Indian pickle," worth checking out if you're curious: Sour, firm green mangos, backyard garden-plot carrots and small, thin-skinned, overabundant limes and other readily available produce are prime candidates. They’re harvested, coated in mustard oil and a complex blend of spices (both of which inhibit the growth of bacteria) and left to cure until tender in the relentless pre-monsoon sun.

I struggle to describe the taste of this one, if I'm honest. It's very spicy and has a strong acidic tang, layered on top of a subtler umami base. We mixed it with a little mayo as a dipping sauce for our round shrimp, and while I couldn't say it was pure enjoyment, we were wide awake throughout the experience!

This was a fairly normal breakfast sausage, all told. I broke up the patties into crumbles, fried em, then added to bean and cheese quesadillas this morning for breakfast. I'm including this product mostly because I work in food and ag media, and I feel very familiar with most most major meat producers in the U.S., yet I am constantly stumbling on new-to-me brands. This one, the amusingly named Swaggerty's, is based in Kodak, Tennessee. ("Possibly the best tasting sausage in the United States of America" is an endearingly earnest tagline.)

It feels rather suburban/doomsday prepper to have this amount of snack chips on hand. Not pictured: The Miss Vicky's snackpack, which we blazed through in a week.