What and Who Will Run Out When?

Okay, we got the memo: you should have 2 weeks of groceries on hand to survive a shelter-in-place situation. We have about 2 weeks worth of rice and pasta. and enough tomato sauce to guarantee freedom from prostate cancer and lots of acid indigestion.

But as I look into it, the question is, what is going to convince me that I need to make a death-defying trip to a supermarket? Or will I have to do that at all? See below.

Having considered the situation from a rational point of view, here in something like order of priority are the things I expect to tip the scale toward some sort of purchasing action:

1. Chocolate: Dark, mainly, though my daughter prefers white chocolate, which I don't really think of as chocolate. On a recent trip to Costa Rica we took a tour of a farm that grows cocoa beans, among other things, and heard about the ancient uses of chocolate as an antibiotic, along with other healthy properties. Now, antibiotics don't do a damn thing against viruses. But they do help with other illnesses that might cause symptoms that make you think you have the Novel Coronavirus, which may then cause you to die of heart failure. And chocolate has been shown to lower your blood pressure, which somehow seems like a thing to do when you are unable to see your mother-in-law, your ex-wife, or... hold on, maybe I could live without the chocolate a little longer? Nah. Anyway, I think it works out to about one degree of BP per ounce, consumed daily, so in order to have a really significant impact I would need more chocolate than I have room to store. But that's just a detail. So chocolate is #1 priority, on purely rational grounds.

2. Bananas: An accompaniment to my breakfast cereal or key ingredient of smoothies for years, until the last one on hand was consumed a few days ago. Nature, that unrepentant drug doser, has secretly suffused them with vitamin B9, which causes the body to release seratonin, the so-called "feel-good" hormone, which relieves stress. Why would I have any stress? Now that my daughter has started Online Learning all my stress from last week is gone. Instead, I am getting lots of exercise, running back and forth between what I have to do and my daughter's computer, with the million things she is supposed to log in to, click on, open, close, type, draw and upload, none of which is particularly intuitive. Nevertheless, a shot of seratonin in the morning seems warranted. And maybe a bucket of it by evening.

3. Almond butter: At some point in the history of evolution, trees stop providing almonds at reasonable prices, and started charging farmers $3 per almond, so that they started charging distributors $6 per almond, who in turn charged grocers $12 per almond, who then decided to charge consumers $237 for a jar of almond butter. Double that for organic. This problem is partly mitigated by Trader Joe's, the Ikea of food: by putting their own name on the label instead of, say, Once Again, they have managed to reduce the price to a mere $53. (Apparently the late, lamented Joe found a way to use cheaper ink to print his brand name. If you prefer the organic ink, please buy Once Again.) But that depends on getting to Trader Joe's. So running out of almond butter is a financial disaster. Nevertheless, since I don't eat peanut butter, this is a key source of protein, which I need in order to convince my body that this is a normal life. So it will have to be replaced sooner or later.

4. Desserts and snacks: We're talking cookies. Pie, pastries, cupcakes, scones, hamentashen. Things from the bakery that I am terrified to eat because someone may have touched them, or coughed on them, or at least looked at them. And that's before the Novel Coronavirus. Now I can't even imagine touching the box they're packed in. Wait. Take a Clorox wipe to the box, wash your hands, and then put it on the counter and let it sit there for two days without going within six feet of it. After that, dig in, because they are supposed to expire after 2 days (the viruses, not the pastries). Of course, this requires dropping any concerns about eating dead viruses. I think I am willing to do that for the sake of my pastries, which either release endorphins in unparalleled quantities, or do such a good job of making me believe they do that I am willing to suspend my disbelief and indulge.

5. Bread: Some days I feel like all I have really eaten all day, when you add it all up, is bread, milk and tomatoes, in 17 different forms, which I convince myself really constitute a balanced diet. You throw a piece of lettuce on a sandwich and call it a day. Bread is what they call a staple food, which means a lot of people eat it. Which means chips and salsa are also a staple food, but people are more likely to venture out into the field for bread than for chips and salsa. Maybe.

6. Alcohol: Beer was officially a staple food in England in the 19th century; that's why they have rollicking folk songs about pub owners who illegally water down the beer. Scotch is a staple food among university professors. Wine is a staple food among some of my friends - the ones who don't prefer beer or scotch. Rum is a staple food among sailors - I think, though I don't actually know any sailors. More importantly, a recent study found that between 1 and 13 drinks a week lowers your probability of developing dementia. Since my probability of developing dementia is increasing as the quasi-lockdown goes on, I am strongly inclined to keep my drinking within the prescribed limits. Maybe closer to the upper limit, in case that helps. In short, whoever you are, other than a teetotaler, alcohol is not a good thing to run out of at a time like this.

Stand on line, or shop online? That's the big question. The last time I went out to a supermarket, frankly, I was sorry I did not stay home and go hungry, there were so many people crowding the aisles and checkout counters. The next day I saw a PeaPod truck on my block, apparently carrying groceries for delivery. What the hell is PeaPod? It is Stop and Shop's home delivery service. Shoprite has one too, and both of those supermarket chains, in case you didn't know, have fairly extensive lines of house brand all-natural and/or organic foods, at well below the prices of organic brand-names at either health food stores or supermarkets.

Another thing you probably didn't know: you can get plenty of Trader Joe's products on Amazon. (Just search for "Trader Joe's" in the search bar.) But don't expect the prices to be what you pay in the stores, because the products are sold by resellers, who often charge a substantial markup. So - sadly - that $7.99 jar of TJ's almond butter is $17.99 on Amazon, which is too close to $237 for my budget.

Anyway, the lists below are a good way to get started with online or telephone delivery options for groceries in NYC. (Most of the information below also applies to other locations.)

Now, before we go there, one last thing, I know some of my Bay Ridge neighbors will be inclined to suggest that supporting my local supermarkets, some of which also deliver, is better than sending people to Amazon or Shoprite. In my opinion, these supermarkets are an unconscionable ripoff, every single one of them, and if they all went out of business I'd need method acting lessons to shed a tear - except for the hardworking people to whom they pay oppressively low wages. I shop at them for what is on sale, which barely brings them down to everyday prices in other stores, and almost never for anything else. There is no product sold by any of them that I cannot get at 20% below their everyday prices (sometimes less than a block away), and most I can get for a lot less than that by going to a few ethnic markets or TJ's. That is a difference of $2000-$3000 a year for a typical family - money that I see some of my neighbors fork over to these super-swindlers as they load up their baskets with overpriced goods. Real estate costs are lower in Bay Ridge than many other places in Brooklyn, so stores can't complain of higher overhead, but somehow a small local fruit stand or ethnic supermarket can sell the exact same products, often the same brands, for substantially less than a large chain supermarket like Key Food, C-Town or FoodTown. Order from them if you want, but if quarantine means people discover ways to get the same products for less elsewhere, my message to local supermarkets is that they have earned this.

Shop 'till you drop your Internet connection:

Timeout NY: Best ways to Get Your Grocery Delivery in NYC

Mercato:  A wide variety of grocery stores that deliver in Brooklyn You can localize the search to whatever city you live in or to specific neighborhoods.

Shoprite: Shoprite From Home