The doctor is IN

The doctor is IN
Design by Alex

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 do hot yoga and explore the city (I love how guests make you go do stuff), so I have a guest essay today from the august Dr. Jennifer Bernstein, a visiting scholar at USC and all-around interesting person. She was a source for something I wrote awhile back, and we've been internet pals ever since, occasionally snarking each other's DMs with light banter.

If you recall, I teased Dr. Bernstein about a month ago for her salvage grocer fearfulness. This is her thoughtful response, as she considers what it is about this type of store that doesn't sit quite right. Enjoy!

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I will admit that surplus grocery stores both gross me out and fascinate me. On one hand, I fondly remember the Grocery Outlet (“Gross Out”) on the walking commute from American Environics’ Oakland office to my home. But let’s focus on the first part. I have high-functioning anxiety. The part of me that meets work deadlines and gets to school pick-up perfectly on time is the same one that adheres to deadlines printed on food products. It’s a personality trait, not a rationale. But this post is an attempt to address the larger issue of surplus grocers — not my “gross out” tendencies.

Food waste is not a small problem, and I deeply respect anyone willing to face it. But as we all know, the bulk of food waste does not happen at the consumer level. It happens when retailers reject bumpy apples, when it’s more profitable to let a crop rot in a field than pick, distribute, and sell it. According to the folks at Project Drawdown, food waste is the #3 highest reward and lowest cost way to remove carbon from the atmosphere. But this will largely happen along the commodity chain, not at the consumer level.

In terms of expiration dates, all the FDA requires is labels on baby formula, which you can only buy three of at my local Walgreens (don’t get me started). There is no national standard for food labeling.  Expiration dates are largely regulated at the state level, and refer to the product’s peak freshness, not food safety.

Most retailers print expiration dates, but they are voluntary and self-regulated, which makes me wonder what the point is. Surplus grocers are a revolution, but aren’t they indicative of the edges of commodity chains that don’t work quite right? It’s where the failures are exposed, and it’s where the consumers are asked to do the cleanup. (While my expiration paranoia seems to be unfounded, I don’t plan to let it go.)

Foodborne disease, generally, is a huge public issue and an impediment to success and achievement in the developing world. This is caused, in part, by consuming “risky perishable food.” While expiration dates in the U.S. are largely state-regulated and arbitrary, a more comprehensive approach to food safety could truly help alleviate health burdens suffered in the developing world. Flaunting food safety standards means you have a safety net, and thus is an act of privilege.

So if Jesse is playing in this space, I am both grossed out and fascinated. I wonder if it’s the labeling dates causing food waste or things way further upstream. Where do our commodity chains fail and in what products? What does food date labeling really mean? At what point is this a consumer issue versus a producer or distributor one? I don’t believe in silver bullets, and I don’t think shopping surplus is one of them.

That said, is anything?

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Lots to chew on! I'd send Dr. Bernstein a Haul care package for this guest post but she'd probably throw it in the wastebin. I suppose she can add this to her resume as "pro bono consulting work."

Until next week, friends and foes!

xo,

Jesse

P.S. I will never include items from Food Bazaar in this newsletter.

Every week the surplus grocer seems to feature a new-to-me brand of chicken taquito and at this point I'm legally obligated to try ever kind. This week, after a Monday-night concert in Brooklyn (that's right y'all, I have a lifestyle), Abby and I came home and made a batch of José Olé taquitos, which we blearily ate standing over the kitchen counter. This is the appropriate method to consume frozen taquitos.

"Irregular Slices Value Bacon" is such a melodic phrase. My favorite part about this bacon is the pull-back cardboard "inspection windows" on the back of the package, so you can assess just how irregular this bacon actually is (pretty normal tbh).

Feels like I've been swindled so many times by over-sweet Dunkin coffee, whether at the store or in a take-home bottle. The default Dunkin sweet level is High Treacle; I can barely stand to sip it. Thankfully the grocer had one bottle clearly marked ZERO SUGAR, which was eminently drinkable. I like how the unsweetened label almost seems like a warning to Dunkin fans: "No, seriously, not even a little bit. Beware!"

In trying to be both mac n' cheese as well as a shrimp scampi-esque pasta, this product was unsuccessful at either. Pick a lane, folks. Also it was exceedingly "wet" if that makes sense. Far too much liquid in my lunch.

The global avocado glut has reached the surplus grocer! Three for a dollar, baby! If you're curious, Philadelphia is doing an amazing job handling their own avocado surplus.