Thursday, September 29, 2011
I have dissed Trader Joe's flowers soundly in the past - especially the poor, waterless spring daffodils, the ones that die when you get them home. But it is time to admit I have discovered three things that I really like at the store whose uber-packaging must fill landfills and whose fresh produce is not very happy. The shirts, awful signage and forced bonhomie do not help.
Their French mustard, to which the Frenchie himself is addicted - it is super-strong; their 'flatbread' (in the frozen aisle, blush), which is really thin-crust pizza with many mushrooms, and made, oddly, in France (more guilt, there, all those pizzas flying over the ocean), is delicious; and their organic whole chicken. Well, they say it is organic. So if you see me at Trader Joe's, that is what will be in my basket.
And now I have to say...these stocks (Mathiola incana) are gorgeous. As I stood grumbling to myself in the interminable checkout line, I smelled them. I bought two bunches. Couldn't help it - they looked fresh and...there was water in their bucket! They remind me of childhood springs and my mother's garden. Once, on a nursery school outing to what we used to call an old age home, I carried two bunches of stocks from my mothers garden. We were all told to bring flowers for the "old people". Proudly I handed one bunch to a grey-haired lady wearing white. I work here! she hissed, shoving them back at me, angry at my mistake.
And the scent has not been bred from these. They fill the room with colour and perfume.