So our Fresh Direct groceries were delivered today, and for those of you who have never had a Fresh Direct experience, here's a brief little synopsis of what you can expect.
The delivery guy buzzed our apartment at noon (I chose a delivery window between 11 and 1 PM), and, while I felt slightly bad about making him haul three large boxes up our three flights of stairs, it did help justify the delivery fee and tip. Besides, he was pretty hefty.
Anyway, the verdict on using Fresh Direct? Let's just say that I don't think Gus and I will be frequenting the Food Emporium nearly as often. Overall, the experience was almost eerily painless; this is the efficiency and convenience of the web at its best. All the while I just kept thinking "I wish my grandma could see this, it would probably blow her mind."Our order came in three huge cardboard boxes. This in itself brought Gus great joy, as it presented a rare opportunity for him to use his pocket knife. All the refrigerated products were packed together in one box, and the groceries filled the other two. One nice aspect of Fresh Direct is the extra care they take to ensure the safety of your food items--the bananas and the eggs come carefully wrapped in foam, and plastic cartons encapsulate the apples to prevent bruising.
Another thing I enjoyed about the Fresh Direct experience was the element of surprise: opening up those boxes bore a slight similarity to opening up an envelope of developed film; you vaguely know what to expect, but there are always one or two pictures that catch you off-guard because you forgot about taking them. Seeing the dried cantaloupe and sourdough pretzels that I had apparently added to our shopping cart on a whim had a similar effect. I was also surprised and mildly amused to find we had purchased two cartons of eggs; I guess my finger slipped on that one.
So, with a few clicks of a button and a turn of a door lock, our grocery shopping was complete for the week. I'm still trying to get over the ease of the whole experience. While I don't think the monetary savings are significant, I do think Fresh Direct is far superior in the quality and selection of their products. And I'm almost positive the time and pain it saves will compensate for any other faults I may find.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
Fresh Direct: My Answer to Grocery Chain Hell?
One of the things I hate about city living is food shopping. This, coming from someone who loved to go as a little girl. I loved watching the live lobsters in the tank, loved getting a free slice of cheese from man behind the deli counter, loved riding on the back of the shopping cart, adding in my own additions. Yet Manhattan grocery chains have come very close to squashing any fond associations I share with food shopping.
If you find my disdain surprising, you're not the only one; it caught me off-guard as well. I assumed that, seeing as Manhattan has the best of pretty much everything, that would naturally be the case for groceries as well--and why shouldn't it? With a quarter of its land in farms, New York ranks among the top five states for agricultural products such as dairy, apples, cherries, potatoes, onions, and maple syrup. It has an array of orchards and vineyards, and a moderately- sized fishery off the coast of Long Island. (Fun fact: It is also the largest producer of cabbage in the U.S). And since Manhattan has some of the best restaurants in the world, one would reasonably assume the food shopping would be pretty damn good.
Well, I'll be the first to tell you that's simply not the case. There are literally five food chains within a 30-foot radius of my apartment: A Food Emporium on my block, two Gristedes within one block, and two D'Agostino's within four; and, interestingly enough, the quality of the stores seems to improve the farther they emanate from my locale. For some inexplicable reason, the food shopping near me is simply dreadful, and I inevitably leave the Food Emporium feeling pissed off and ripped off every time.
Why? The selection is incredibly limited and understocked. On one trip, Gus found himself staring blank-faced at the former bananas section, which had been replaced with tons of pineapples--not a single banana to be found. One time when I simply wanted a few salad items, I found the produce section bereft of lettuce, spinach, broccoli, AND cucumbers. Even when they do the usual thing and stock produce, it's not much better. The quality is extremely poor--the fruit is always small, shriveled, and/or brusied; the only food that looks halfway decent is organic and thus usually compromised by the price tag.
Aside from the fresh food, the supermarkets are cramped, poorly organized, and extremely inconvenient. The store is probably less than 600 square feet and I can't tell you how many times I've weaved in and out of those tiny aisles trying to find something as simple as olive oil. It has the effect of making one feel like a mouse in a maze: confused and crazed, with the sneaking suspicion that someone is playing a cruel joke.
Now, don't get me wrong. I know Manhattan has many nice farmer's markets and independently owned natural/organic/gourmet stores. But the simple fact is that the chains are more convenient (who can lug 10 bags around the city?) and usually less expensive. How much it actually saves, I'm not so sure; and sometimes I question if the few extra bucks is worth the pain (because I know for sure every trip takes 5 minutes off my life).In an effort to save this post from being one long rant, here comes the silver lining: Fresh Direct.
Based in Long Island city, Fresh Direct is an online food service that allows people to shop for fresh produce and groceries from the convenience of their homes, and, as you might predict, is enormously popular in NYC. Within one or two days--you get to pick the date and two-hour delivery window--they deliver your purchases to your door for a small fee (usually around $5). Fresh Direct prides itself on the quality of their products and competitive prices; the food comes directly from farms, dairies and fisheries and is stored in their state-of-the-art refrigerated facility.
Now, Gus and I are a little behind the curve--this is probably a service we should have taken advantage of long ago. But last night, we finally tried it out. And it was a dream. The site is extremely well-organized and easy to use, providing thumbnails of the food, nutritional information, and options to compare similar brands and related products. You can search by brand, price, and other considerations, like organic, local, or kosher. They even have a bakery, recipe section, and weekly specials. While I don't think the savings are enormous, I did happen to notice that, in most cases, the products were slightly cheaper than what we'd pay at the Food Emporium. (We got a great deal on yogurt! Six for less than $4). This, combined with the vast selection and convenience, certainly seems like a promising solution to my grocery shopping woes. I'll report back once the food is delivered.
(I just hope one day we don't turn into this...)
If you find my disdain surprising, you're not the only one; it caught me off-guard as well. I assumed that, seeing as Manhattan has the best of pretty much everything, that would naturally be the case for groceries as well--and why shouldn't it? With a quarter of its land in farms, New York ranks among the top five states for agricultural products such as dairy, apples, cherries, potatoes, onions, and maple syrup. It has an array of orchards and vineyards, and a moderately- sized fishery off the coast of Long Island. (Fun fact: It is also the largest producer of cabbage in the U.S). And since Manhattan has some of the best restaurants in the world, one would reasonably assume the food shopping would be pretty damn good.
Well, I'll be the first to tell you that's simply not the case. There are literally five food chains within a 30-foot radius of my apartment: A Food Emporium on my block, two Gristedes within one block, and two D'Agostino's within four; and, interestingly enough, the quality of the stores seems to improve the farther they emanate from my locale. For some inexplicable reason, the food shopping near me is simply dreadful, and I inevitably leave the Food Emporium feeling pissed off and ripped off every time.
Why? The selection is incredibly limited and understocked. On one trip, Gus found himself staring blank-faced at the former bananas section, which had been replaced with tons of pineapples--not a single banana to be found. One time when I simply wanted a few salad items, I found the produce section bereft of lettuce, spinach, broccoli, AND cucumbers. Even when they do the usual thing and stock produce, it's not much better. The quality is extremely poor--the fruit is always small, shriveled, and/or brusied; the only food that looks halfway decent is organic and thus usually compromised by the price tag.
Aside from the fresh food, the supermarkets are cramped, poorly organized, and extremely inconvenient. The store is probably less than 600 square feet and I can't tell you how many times I've weaved in and out of those tiny aisles trying to find something as simple as olive oil. It has the effect of making one feel like a mouse in a maze: confused and crazed, with the sneaking suspicion that someone is playing a cruel joke.
Now, don't get me wrong. I know Manhattan has many nice farmer's markets and independently owned natural/organic/gourmet stores. But the simple fact is that the chains are more convenient (who can lug 10 bags around the city?) and usually less expensive. How much it actually saves, I'm not so sure; and sometimes I question if the few extra bucks is worth the pain (because I know for sure every trip takes 5 minutes off my life).In an effort to save this post from being one long rant, here comes the silver lining: Fresh Direct.
Based in Long Island city, Fresh Direct is an online food service that allows people to shop for fresh produce and groceries from the convenience of their homes, and, as you might predict, is enormously popular in NYC. Within one or two days--you get to pick the date and two-hour delivery window--they deliver your purchases to your door for a small fee (usually around $5). Fresh Direct prides itself on the quality of their products and competitive prices; the food comes directly from farms, dairies and fisheries and is stored in their state-of-the-art refrigerated facility.
Now, Gus and I are a little behind the curve--this is probably a service we should have taken advantage of long ago. But last night, we finally tried it out. And it was a dream. The site is extremely well-organized and easy to use, providing thumbnails of the food, nutritional information, and options to compare similar brands and related products. You can search by brand, price, and other considerations, like organic, local, or kosher. They even have a bakery, recipe section, and weekly specials. While I don't think the savings are enormous, I did happen to notice that, in most cases, the products were slightly cheaper than what we'd pay at the Food Emporium. (We got a great deal on yogurt! Six for less than $4). This, combined with the vast selection and convenience, certainly seems like a promising solution to my grocery shopping woes. I'll report back once the food is delivered.
(I just hope one day we don't turn into this...)
Monday, February 23, 2009
Learn How to Make Depression-Era Recipes on YouTube, with Clara
Though eating in is almost always cheaper than dining out, not every recipe is conducive to thrifty cooking; I often find myself turning down yummy recipes because of the exotic, expensive, and/or numerous ingredients they call for. Now, there's someone here to help.
Meet Clara. At first glance, you might write her off as a typical sweet old lady. But this woman is truly remarkable. Not only has she survived the Great Depression; she actually knows that YouTube exists.
This 93 year-old great grandmother, who claims to have actually "gained weight during America's worst state of financial despair," is continuing to defy all odds with her own cooking show on YouTube; That's right, this unassuming little lady has adapted to the changing times more gracefully than books, newspapers, and magazines combined.
The miniseries, "Depression Cooking with Clara" consists of six short episodes in which Clara shows web users how to recreate the meals her family subsisted on during those hard times. Interspersed between her simple, straight-forward instructions, she recounts memories of her childhood. In the first episode, for example, Clara makes one of her mom's staples, "pasta with peas" (in what looks to be kitchenware from the 1930s) and talks about how the bootleggers of the 30s came door-to-door asking to rent out people's garages to make whiskey.
It gets even more interesting from here: In episode five where we learn how to make Panescotto (cooked bread), she recounts a story about a mean boss she had while working at a radio coil factory: one day, after he publicly berated her for a mistake she didn't make, she wished to herself he would get hit by a train. The next day, he did.
Contrary to what its slightly ambiguous might insinuate, "Depression Cooking with Clara," is both entertaining and enjoyable; and, unlike most modern-day cooking shows, the no-frills recipes are incredibly easy to replicate. So whether you're looking for cheap, simple recipes, a window into history, or a little elderly company, Clara's cooking show is definitely worth a watch.
Meet Clara. At first glance, you might write her off as a typical sweet old lady. But this woman is truly remarkable. Not only has she survived the Great Depression; she actually knows that YouTube exists.
This 93 year-old great grandmother, who claims to have actually "gained weight during America's worst state of financial despair," is continuing to defy all odds with her own cooking show on YouTube; That's right, this unassuming little lady has adapted to the changing times more gracefully than books, newspapers, and magazines combined.
The miniseries, "Depression Cooking with Clara" consists of six short episodes in which Clara shows web users how to recreate the meals her family subsisted on during those hard times. Interspersed between her simple, straight-forward instructions, she recounts memories of her childhood. In the first episode, for example, Clara makes one of her mom's staples, "pasta with peas" (in what looks to be kitchenware from the 1930s) and talks about how the bootleggers of the 30s came door-to-door asking to rent out people's garages to make whiskey.
It gets even more interesting from here: In episode five where we learn how to make Panescotto (cooked bread), she recounts a story about a mean boss she had while working at a radio coil factory: one day, after he publicly berated her for a mistake she didn't make, she wished to herself he would get hit by a train. The next day, he did.
Contrary to what its slightly ambiguous might insinuate, "Depression Cooking with Clara," is both entertaining and enjoyable; and, unlike most modern-day cooking shows, the no-frills recipes are incredibly easy to replicate. So whether you're looking for cheap, simple recipes, a window into history, or a little elderly company, Clara's cooking show is definitely worth a watch.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
When Bud Light just doesn't cut it, but your wallet won't budge
Like many cash-strapped, unsophisticated young drinkers, I don't think I tasted "good beer" until I was 21. (Perhaps this is the punishment for drinking underage.) In college, I became quite familiar with the watery, bland taste of the "American classics." Bud, Miller, and Keystone relaxed my nerves, made me giggle, and impaired my motor functions on many occasions. Though we share some fond memories, I never particularly enjoyed their taste.
Ok, that's an understatement. Each gulp was a struggle. I viewed cheap beer as a necessary evil: despite its bad taste and constant demands on my bladder, it was cheap and it was the lifeblood of various social college functions. I tried finding ways around it, but wine pong just never seemed to catch on. Despite its scandalously un-American ring, I eventually came to accept my fate as a hopeless beer-hater.
Luckily, my naivete was short-lived. Some of my more cultured friends have since taken me under their wing, opening up my world to quality beer. I have to admit, my first experiences were quite exhilarating. I never knew beer came in so many categories, thicknesses, flavors, and colors. The style of the tap handles alone brought me great excitement, and the discovery of chocolate beer washed away any remnant of bitterness left residing on my tongue.
Now days, my only beef with good beer is the price tag. But, as a thrifty New Yorker, I've found ways around this dilemma. As someone who prefers quality over quantity, I think it's worth the money to buy one or two good beers and scrimp on anything else. And while I realize "one or two" beers just won't cut it for some of my readers, I have another solution: Why not start off the night at your apartment with the cheap stuff, then spend a little money on the good stuff.
Take last night, for example. My friends and I went to The Ginger Man, "A Beer Lover's Paradise," according to Newsday. This ever-so-popular midtown bar boasts an impressive 70 beers on tap and 160 bottles. And, quite surprisingly, the prices aren't all that bad; most draughts ranged from $6.50 to $8.00. They also offer a beer sampler: 4 beers of your choice for $11. Even if you don't get the beer sampler, if you bring a few friends, you can just sample each others. So, in addition to having two St. Louis Framboise's (a ridiculously girly beer that tastes like raspberry soda), I tried the Magic Hat Roxy Rolls, Dogfish Head Red & White, Dogfish Head Punkin' Ale, and the house brew, Ginger Man Ale. All for $13. Not too shabby.
P.S. I also found a great site that, among other things, lets you search bars by specific beers, specials, etc. And they offer free beer coupons.
The Ginger Man
Location: 11 East 36th St (btw. Madison and 5th)
Price Range: $6.50 +
Ok, that's an understatement. Each gulp was a struggle. I viewed cheap beer as a necessary evil: despite its bad taste and constant demands on my bladder, it was cheap and it was the lifeblood of various social college functions. I tried finding ways around it, but wine pong just never seemed to catch on. Despite its scandalously un-American ring, I eventually came to accept my fate as a hopeless beer-hater.
Luckily, my naivete was short-lived. Some of my more cultured friends have since taken me under their wing, opening up my world to quality beer. I have to admit, my first experiences were quite exhilarating. I never knew beer came in so many categories, thicknesses, flavors, and colors. The style of the tap handles alone brought me great excitement, and the discovery of chocolate beer washed away any remnant of bitterness left residing on my tongue.
Now days, my only beef with good beer is the price tag. But, as a thrifty New Yorker, I've found ways around this dilemma. As someone who prefers quality over quantity, I think it's worth the money to buy one or two good beers and scrimp on anything else. And while I realize "one or two" beers just won't cut it for some of my readers, I have another solution: Why not start off the night at your apartment with the cheap stuff, then spend a little money on the good stuff.
Take last night, for example. My friends and I went to The Ginger Man, "A Beer Lover's Paradise," according to Newsday. This ever-so-popular midtown bar boasts an impressive 70 beers on tap and 160 bottles. And, quite surprisingly, the prices aren't all that bad; most draughts ranged from $6.50 to $8.00. They also offer a beer sampler: 4 beers of your choice for $11. Even if you don't get the beer sampler, if you bring a few friends, you can just sample each others. So, in addition to having two St. Louis Framboise's (a ridiculously girly beer that tastes like raspberry soda), I tried the Magic Hat Roxy Rolls, Dogfish Head Red & White, Dogfish Head Punkin' Ale, and the house brew, Ginger Man Ale. All for $13. Not too shabby.
P.S. I also found a great site that, among other things, lets you search bars by specific beers, specials, etc. And they offer free beer coupons.
The Ginger Man
Location: 11 East 36th St (btw. Madison and 5th)
Price Range: $6.50 +
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