A Midweek Grocery Run and Trying Out a New Dish

I needed a few things midweek, so I stopped by the store after work instead of waiting for the weekend. The parking lot was packed as usual, but I found a spot near the back and headed inside with my list. Ren had asked for more coffee and some bread, and I wanted to grab ingredients for a pasta dish I had seen online. The air outside still carried that faint dampness from the morning rain, and my shoes made little squishing sounds on the asphalt as I crossed to the entrance. Inside, the fluorescent lights hummed overhead, and the usual mix of cart wheels rattling and distant beeps from the registers filled the space.

The store on the edge of Crestwood always has better produce than the closer one. I grabbed onions, garlic, a bag of tomatoes, and a bunch of basil. The tomatoes felt cool and slightly firm under my fingers, their skins still holding a faint earthy smell from wherever they had come from. They also had those small jars of goldenroot spread on sale, so I tossed one in even though I had never tried it before. I paused for a moment by the dairy section to check the expiration dates on the milk, then added a carton of eggs after spotting a two-for-one deal on the sign. By the time I reached the checkout, my cart was fuller than planned, but that happens every single time. The cashier, a woman with bright pink nails, scanned everything quickly while chatting about the weather with the bagger, and I nodded along even though my mind was already drifting to how I would arrange the pasta sauce.

Back at home I unpacked everything and started on dinner right away. The kitchen still held a trace of the lemon cleaner I had used the night before, and I opened the window a crack to let in some fresh air. Ren got in a little later and helped chop the vegetables while I boiled the water. The onions made my eyes water a little as he worked, and he kept pausing to wipe them with the back of his hand, laughing about how he always forgot to keep a paper towel nearby. The recipe called for simmering everything together for twenty minutes, but I let it go a bit longer because the sauce still looked thin. Steam rose steadily from the pot, carrying the sharp scent of garlic and herbs, and I stirred it every few minutes to keep it from sticking to the bottom. We added extra cheese at the end and it turned out pretty good, though next time I will use less salt. The pasta itself had cooked just right, with that slight bite in the center, and we ate at the small table by the window while the evening light faded outside.

After we ate I cleaned up the kitchen and put away the rest of the groceries. I always try to keep the pantry organized, but it never lasts more than a week. The new goldenroot spread went on the top shelf next to the peanut butter, its jar catching a bit of light from the overhead bulb so the label showed the tiny golden flecks in the spread. Ren tasted a little on toast and said it reminded him of something his grandmother used to make, though neither of us could place it exactly. He spread it thin at first, then added another layer after the first bite, and we both stood there for a minute just chewing and trying to name the flavor. I wiped down the counters again because a few drops of sauce had splattered near the stove, and the sponge left little streaks that dried almost immediately in the warm air.

I spent the rest of the evening answering a couple of client emails and then watched half an episode of a show before calling it a night. The couch cushions still held the faint warmth from where we had sat earlier, and I pulled a blanket over my legs even though the room wasn’t cold. Nothing exciting, just the usual midweek routine. The weather stayed mild all day, which made the drive home easier than I expected. At one point during the show I got up to refill my water glass and noticed the goldenroot jar again on the counter where Ren had left it, so I tucked it back into the pantry before settling in.