Driving me (pine) NUTS! Another post about grocery shopping (6/24/25)

The other day, Dave walked into the kitchen and said, “Dearest, we have a lot of basil in the garden.  Let’s have something pesto based for dinner on Sunday.”

To which I responded, “That’s perfect, I always love the opportunity to make my special family pesto recipe,  the one handed down through generations and crushed with the special mortar and pestle that my great, great, great grandmother brought over from Italy.  Making that pesto always makes me feel closer to the generations who came before me.  Amazing idea, my love, I will pick up some pine nuts and fresh pasta when I go to the farmers market tomorrow. Oh how I love cooking.”

Jump to the recipe here.

Lie:  I don’t love cooking. It doesn’t bring me the creative joy and sense of self expression that it brings some people. I truly wish it was something I loved, but the self-esteem issues prevalent in most aspects of my life seep into cooking too, so it mostly just makes me nervous about missing a step somewhere or serving undercooked meat.  If it weren’t for Dave, I would live on salads, cereal and eggs.   

I do however, in an attempt to better myself and grow as a person, make dinner one night a week.  For one night a week I put true effort into a meal:  Sunday dinner.
 
Lie: My family does not have a pesto recipe, and I don’t have a drop of Italian in my lineage.  I don’t think I even had pesto until I was in my 20s.  Pasta in general wasn’t a huge part of my childhood, and the pasta we did have was usually tomato sauce and usually from Olive Garden (omg...that salad) or Fazolis (omg...those breadsticks).
 
Lie: I never shop at farmers markets.  Too crowded. Too expensive. Too intimidating.
 
Lie: Dave and I don’t refer to each other as “Dearest” or “My Love.”  For us, those sentiments are deeply implied in “Hey!"
 
Truth: When I asked Dave what he wanted for Sunday dinner this past weekend, he did suggest using basil from the garden to make pesto.  At the moment, basil is basically the only produce in our garden not being harvested before its time by the neighborhood deer, and he wanted his farming efforts for the summer to go to some use.
 

Lie:  You can’t jump ahead to the recipe.  You have to read the WHOLE blog post. Plus, the recipe isn’t worth jumping too. I literally stole it from another site.

ACTUAL story:
With a plan in place for Sunday dinner, I decided to head to the grocery store on Saturday afternoon. Up to that point, the day had included a 3 hour bike ride, sitting in traffic for an hour to get home from the bike ride (DC area traffic), and thoroughly cleaning the house. I had not showered after the bike ride (because, why shower to clean?) and I was looking and smelling rough. Like, REALLY rough.
 
Still,  I really wanted to get the weekly grocery shopping over with and get the pesto made so it could blend overnight and be ready to go on Sunday afternoon. As noted, I was not at my best, but I just had to get in and out as fast as possible to keep from stinking up the store and avoid seeing anyone I might know.  

A quick glance through the cupboards revealed I had everything for the pesto aside from the pasta and pine nuts.  Add them to the list.
 
As you know from past blog posts, Giant is my grocery store.  I know the aisles and understand the madness of why products are where they are. Giant and I are one – mind melded. Today, however, I felt pressed for time (had to get home, make the pesto, take a shower, eat dinner, watch tv – super packed night) and decided to go to Harris Teeter, which is closer to home.  
 
I grocery shop like I train for Iron Mans – set the goal and get er’ done. 

We don’t waste time comparing prices or get distracted by new, and potentially better, products (we do occasionally get distracted by pre-cut cake slices in the bakery, but that’s IT). 
We add the cheapest looking version of products to the cart and keep it moving.  
We don’t have time for standing in the line for the deli – pre-packed lunch meats only.
We circumnavigate the store from the veggies to the frozen foods with only critically necessary diversions down the aisles.
When we do venture down the aisles, we leave the cart parked at the end of the aisles so we can move effortlessly through needless cart congestion and remain nimble.
We don’t have time for other lollygagging shoppers – go around them. Find the opening.  GET AROUND THEM!
 
The trip was going really well and I was making excellent time until I got to the baking aisle, where I planned to grab pine nuts.
Almonds, walnuts, coconut….no pine nuts. 
I looked again: almonds, walnuts, coconut…no pine nuts.
I looked at the labels on the shelf: almonds, walnuts coconut…WTF! There wasn’t even a label for pine nuts!
 
Ok, let’s re-group.  Maybe they are with the other nuts in the snack aisle? Nope.
Maybe they are in the Italian aisle? Nope.
Maybe they are with the fancy cheeses (this is serious backtracking - basically back to the produce - and not ideal)? Nope.
Try to the baking aisle again.  Nope.
But read the labels really slowly. Nope.
Back to the snack aisle. Nope.
Is there a special pesto section in the Italian aisle? Nope.
With the hummus? Nope.
 
You know it kills an introvert to ask, but I even asked the guy at the service desk for help.  He looked at me strangely (maybe because he thought the question was stupid or maybe it was the smell – could go either way) and directed me to the baking aisle. I pretended to be surprised and said I would look there. I then did go back and look for the fifth time, because he may have been watching and I didn’t want him to think I didn’t believe him (even though I knew, from extensive research, that pine nuts were absolutely, 100% not there).
 
I passed an endcap with some nut mixes and raisins, which was exciting for a second, but no pine nuts.
 
I hate giving up, but after 15-20 minutes of my stinky, un-put-together-self wandering around Harris Teeter,  all signs were pointing to no pine nuts, and I’m pretty sure fellow shoppers were changing their shopping patters to avoid being near the confused-looking smelly girl mumbling to herself as she walked back-and-forth amongst the same 3 aisles.
 
I decided I would simply have to give up on making the pesto in advance. Sometimes pesto just has to wait until tomorrow.
 
I walked into the house, utterly defeated, and I complained to Dave that his stupid store (he prefers Harris Teeter) either doesn’t carry stupid pine nuts or is too stupid to put them in the stupid baking aisle.   He just shrugged, as though that alone weren’t a strong enough reason to change store loyalties. Traitor.
 
Feeling like I DNFed a race, I walked into the kitchen and started putting the rest of the groceries away.  As I dejectedly opened the spice drawer, what did I see sitting there amongst the cumin and salt?  Yep, a mostly full bag of pine nuts.  
 
The take-away from this story should probably be that I need to investigate more thoroughly when putting together shopping lists.
My chosen take-away is that Harris Teeter is stupid.
 
Anyway, here’s the recipe:
 
2-10 Garlic cloves (your heart wants what it wants), finely chopped
4 Tbsp pine nuts (or whatever is left in the bag)
Fresh basil leaves (however many the deer haven’t eaten)
3 Tbsp of grated Parmesan
1 Tbsp of grated Pecorino (or another Tbsp of Parmesan if you don’t want to spend $15 on a little container of Pecorino)
1/3 cup of Olive Oil
Sea Salt
 
Use a food processor (or a mortar and pestle, if you are the type of person who wouldn’t go to the grocery store smelly) to blend the garlic, pine nuts, and pinch of sea salt until it makes  a paste.
 
Slowly add the basil leaves, careful not to over-mix (I 100% over-mix and it always still tastes fine).
 
Transfer the mixture to a bowl and stir in the cheese.
 
Add olive oil until you reach the desired consistency.
 
Refrigerate.