There are apps

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 arraigned for breaking into the Frosty Freeze with his buds. "Hey Jesse!" he shouted with a grin, explaining who I was to his lawyer. YOU DON'T KNOW ME.

Later in New York I used a weed delivery service, where I'd call a number that would answer the phone "This is Safeway!' with fake grocery sounds in the background (there are no Safeways in NYC). I'd say something vaguely coded and they'd say "Got your order" and send a huge SUV to this Brooklyn bar I liked to read books at. When they arrived I'd go get in the tinted Escalade and we'd DRIVE AWAY and do the transaction while in transit. Every trip was a vaguely threatening thrill, but they'd always bring me back to my book and my beer.

Now weed is legal and silly and everywhere, with an ugly bodega on every corner and an army of dweebs self-consciously puffing on subway platforms and outside the bank. I'll still make occasional trips to one of those "elevated cannabis clubs" that treat you like a fancy little gentleman (GTFO with your concierge) because I like to smoke a little before bed, alone and uncool. I miss the old times though.

There's a reason I'm telling you this, I promise. I got an email recently from the PR agent representing Martie, one of the new apps offering an online version of the surplus grocer (Too Good to Go is the big dog in the space.) The very nice PR flak offered offered me $75 to play with on the app, as one of the only dedicated surplus grocer influencers. And I made an order!

It was a good array of groceries, relatively cheap, curated to represent the bougie side of the equation. It wasn't hard to spend 75 bucks, not at all, with San Marzano tomatoes and salmon jerky and high-end moisturizer. But I felt weird and uncool doing it, much like when I go to the Lord Fauntleroy cannabis boutique near my office.

I love the surplus grocer because of the deals and the fun selection, sure, but I also love that it's grimy and unpredictable, like a trip in a stranger's SUV! I make friends with oddballs all the time, the expiration dates are hit or miss, the pricing is frenetic, and the workers are wild and fun. The surplus grocer is an experience — do I really want to disrupt that?

xo,

Jesse

Pictured above: Me schlepping 20 cans of seltzer on the 6 train to work. See that puddle in the background? See, a starfruit seltz sprung a leak and the liquid crept like an oil spill into the crowded traincar. Problem is that no one knew what the moving puddle was — we encounter many sinister liquids in NYC. People were frantically grabbing their backpacks off the floor, squishing into each other trying to flee.

Suppose I could have told them "Don't fret - it's clean and delicious seltzer!" but I was sleepy and maybe a little embarrassed.

The proud man told me this kind of salami log would go for 60 or 70 bones at a normal store. His price? "Doce!" (12 in Spanish).

I just learned that Nde's daughter plays NCAA basketball at an Ohio school, but that despite Nde's height — she's taller than my 5'9"— she does not enjoy playing ball. "Too lazy!" she exclaimed, with her trademark infectious laugh.

More chuckles from today: Nde told me there's a new horror movie called Abigail, then asked if my Abby is "a bad guy." Her and another cashier thought that was the funniest thing ever. When I said "I think she's a good person?" the laughter intensified.

We got these for two bucks at Food Bazaar, marked down because they made the marketing error of dying them red and green for Christmas. Boutique chips at bargain basement prices - an honorary surplus grocer find.

I thought all pita was followed by the word "pocket," to be stuffed with any goodie of choice. But when I tried to fill one of these with leftover chicken and rice, I realized they are pocketless — one-ply pita! Humiliating.

Look at the pictured pita, cleverly folded up to mimic a pocket. Call it flatbread, yo!

I used this off-brand Tabasco to make some buffalo mac n cheese the other night - absolutely divine. (I anticipate some Hot Ones nerd will email me that this brand pre-dates Tabasco and is actually superior for reasons X, Y, and Z.)

!!! New concept just dropped. Much like the tuna chili, I am very excited to sample this and report back. Be patient my friends.

When I first lived on my own, jars of Ragu Alfredo sauce felt quite sophisticated. Lacking in culture and perspective, my boys all preferred marinara — I'm simply built different. But then one time I took a huge bite and it felt like I had a mouth full of starchy flavorless gravy. I was really grossed out! Never went back.

But somehow the surplus grocer gets me buying things I really shouldn't. My internal monologue was no more sophisticated than "Classico is better than Ragu, right?" This purchase was neither right nor wrong, as it turns out - inoffensive but not exactly "delicious." I'll give it a 6/10.

It's hard to tell but this is a 2.5-pound bag of spinach, which is absolutely enormous! And we got it for a buck. I brought it on a recent trip to Atlanta, taking up like 1/3 of my suitcase, and Abby made spinach salads every single day. Proud to say we only wasted maybe 20 leafs, total.