The sudden death of Anthony Bourdain by suicide hit me hard. I’m the last guy to get on facebook and overblow what the death of a celebrity meant to me. I didn’t lose my virginity while reading Kitchen Confidential or become a half ass blogger because of him..I just respected the hell out of him.
On the heels of Kate Spade’s suicide this week, it is clear mental illness has no limitations and does not affect any specific phenotypes. Anthony was the manliest of men and Kate the girliest of girls and I would almost argue that 90% of humanity falls somewhere in between. In other words, we are all targets of this malicious disease.
In comparison, Gord Downie’s cancer was another tragedy which hit me hard. Gord filled my ears while Anthony filled by belly. Unlike depression, however, Gord was given some time and allowed to close out his life with an epic concert series and the ability to say goodbye to his friends, family and fans. They raised thousands for cancer research and the whole Canadian musical community came together in a full blown and multi-city memorial. What happened to Gord was not his fault…for whatever reason cancer picked him and made him the weak member of the pack just like a lion would target and attack the injured antelope in a slow and methodical way.
Anthony, on the other hand, didn’t get to celebrate his life; he just took it. There were no celebrations or unification of the culinary community; he was alone except for the darkness that told him the best solution was to take his life. He was the head lion in the pride; successful, confident, respected and almost invincible but unlike the slow and methodical hunt that is called cancer, he was taken out by depression in one swift and ruthless attack.
It seems then that cancer and depression are not much different but last time I checked, there is no chemo for the soul. However, reactions continue to be very different. We empathize for Gord’s loved ones and ask “Why did the cancer do this to him?” and yet with Anthony, Kate and others the first reaction is “How could he/she do that to them?”. Depression is not a fake disease made up by pharmaceutical companies to make money. It’s not treated with St. John’s Wort or ignorance. It doesn’t go away when things in life get better nor does it prey on the weak alone. It’s not classified in stages and doesn’t come with a ominous prognosis like “he only has 3-6 months to live”.
Like many, I perused the net while reflecting of Anthony’s life and found an article from US weekly called Anthony Bourdain: 25 Things You Don’t Know About Me facts that struck me:
7. I haven’t worn an earring or thumb ring since my daughter was born. Dads shouldn’t have earrings. Or thumb rings.
12. I love nothing more than cooking with my daughter.
13. I recently bought her her very first chef’s knife.
23. It’s really me handling my Twitter account.
24. I am afraid of clowns, nurse’s shoes and pressure cookers.
25. I have very rigid criteria for what makes a good burger. And a brioche bun is not part of it.
I always thought Anthony was invincible and if anything, his fate would be at the hands of a venomous scorpion or a stray bullet striking his Achilles tendon during a trip in a war torn country on the other side of the planet. Instead, he was killed by something much more global than the slums of Vietnam and something much more lethal than the sting of an arachnid. I think I will celebrate his life eating a greasy smash burger on a Wonder bun that I made with my daughter while watching “It” or Nurse Jackie and thanking the Lord i don’t live with a disease scarier than a floating red balloon that might pop at any second. RIP Anthony.
There is a hipster civil war a brewing. You need to look no further than the recent antics around Antler restaurant for proof. In recent weeks, the vegan movement has come head to head with knife wielding carnivores who’s expression comes more from what they make look pretty on a plate. This battle has received widespread media attention and has polarized the otherwise unified youth movement. In a nutshell, Antler has been scrutinized about their claims regarding the ethical treatment of animals. Farmed game meats and the abhorrent appearance of fois gras on the menu seems in stark contrast to the restaurant’s statement. As a result, on some of the busiest dining nights of the week, protesters have periodically riddled the streets in front of Antler donning signs and chanting sayings defending our four-legged friends. In retaliation, owner Michael Hunter (I mean with the name Hunter can you blame him???) decided to first take one of those friends and demonstrate his butchery through the front window, cook it up and down it in front of the crowd using the same medium. Understandably, the vegan protesters “were in shock”. The subsequent social media comments have been as polar as opinions towards Trump. Some are posting that they are planning to make a reservation ASAP while others are speaking out and calling for a full out ban of the Dundas St. eatery. I can’t confirm whose winning the battle other than noting that blogTo reports that reservations have soared in the days following the latest standoff. Personally, although I’m off meat at the moment, I’m tempted to book one myself.
The clash between those trying to save animals and those who would rather grave them is nothing new. Humanity’s position on the food chain has always been up for much interpretation. This situation, however, goes well beyond this argument alone. In other words, the ongoing battle is more than just the fundamental rights of an individual to behave and function within societal laws; it’s the morality around why they do it.
I’m not sure where I sit on this issue. Do we have the right to disrupt a legal business because we don’t like their philosophy? On the flip side, do businesses have the right to brand themselves using, in the eyes of some, ethical pretenses? Finally, regardless of the action, was the owner justified in his actions given they occurred within his own establishment? To me, it’s not an argument about meat;it’s merely the scape”goat” (God..that joke was baaaad) or maybe more appropriately, the catalyst which accelerated the aforementioned hipster civil war. You see, what we have here if a battle between two entitled groups who believe their own righteous philosophies trump the other. I can’t say it’s much different that the American civil war…minus the guns and widespread fatalities of course. Instead, Antler may in fact be the Fort Sumter of this millennial battle, with placards, tweets and deer limb replacing muskets and knives. Perhaps entrepreneurial carnivores are deemed the south in the sense that they support slavery; but in this case that of our avian, mammalian and piscine friends.
So how do we end the standoff? Perhaps we can halt the mean-natured posts and public displays of gluttony by drafting a constitution of hipster behaviour. It would outline acceptable behavior yet have room for amendments based on the ever changing trends of a millennial’s world. This document could be posted on facebook, reddit or other social media channels and come complete with amendment suggestions from the likes of @dontmeatmefordinner or @nosetotailneverfails. Here are a few ideas to get the ball rolling:
The right to bear meat. Conditions would include the right to carry concealed meat but public displays would be reserved for grocery stores, butcher shops or display windows along Spadina avenue. Otherwise, animal foodstuffs could be displayed in private spaces providing the windows are opaque or have sufficient glare during dinner hours.
The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects , restaurants against unreasonable searches and seizures protesters and placards shall not be violated, and no Warrantsreally mean social media posts shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by Oathinstagram or affirmation twitter, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized.challenged.
Just don’t lie about shit including claims about ethical treatment of anything or things like GMOs, free range, fair trade, farm to table, organic, natural, sugar-free, gluten free, omega-3, air-chilled, low carb, high carb or no carb. Also, no absurd claims about cocktails (ie that vodka martinis are better than gin ones or that old fashioneds should be made out of rye instead of bourbon) should be made.
Regarding the Antler situation, I think I’ll exercise my constitutional right and plead the fifth. I see both sides of the story but will stick to the fact that this issue is bigger than the safety and welfare of animals. It’s an egotistical battle fueled by self-righteousness and entitlement on both sides. It will be interesting to see how this one “pans” out…but perhaps the affected parties can sit down and resolve it over a plate of GMO-free gnocchi in an agreed upon neutral restaurant which is not owned by a conglomerate of course.
By now the dust has probably settled on the instant Pot craze (and I mean that literally as I’m sure about 75% of them are likely sitting on the top shelf beside the slap chops and magic bullets). Although they were hotter than a Hatch’em over the holidays, it goes without saying that it won’t top the list of intelligent gifts on February 14. Valentine’s day, the first commercial aftershock of the Earthquake called Christmas, is hardly about anything practical and it would be an utter disappointment to be so unthoughtful.
When it comes to my feelings about the Instant Pot, I guess the biggest question is whether it’s a good thing for humanity’s relationship with what we eat or just another example of culinary sacrilege equivalent to Nutrigrain bars and TV dinners. On one hand, the Instant Pot has at least refueled an interest in cooking. People are keen to actually purchase raw ingredients even it means throwing them all in a magic pot for a ridiculously short amount of time to see what happens. On the other hand, the demand for needing things completed instantly has almost gotten pathological.
Rosie the Robot Maid
First of all, why haven’t they made a live action Jetson’s movie? I’m sure Emma Stone could team up with Damian Lewis, Seth Green or Benedict Cumberbatch in all-ginger starring cast depending on whether she wanted to pad her acting resume with a drama, comedy or oscar winner film respectively. Perhaps the plot could involve a spine-tingling adventure in which the couple tries to determine how two redheded parents could possibly have blond and silver-haired offspring. Perhaps the role of Rosie the Robot maid could be split cast between the Instant Pot and the iRobot Roomba 980.
I think many people dream of one day having their own Rosie in the future and the Instant Pot is a surrogate. Perhaps as we get closer to a Rosie in every home we will see a closed loop system in which Alexa (who based on what I’ve heard from some is not the most intuitive of virtual friends) tells the Roomba 980 what to throw into the Instant Pot so one can arrive home with a delicious meal waiting. As I mentioned, such an automatic process makes me question what we are doing with our relationship with food. It seems to me that using the Instant Pot might be more important than what comes out of it, especially when you have the ability to use annoying hashtags like #instantpotential or #instantpotoninstagram to brag to your instagram friends. Making spinach dips, stir frys or roasted chickens in the Instant Pot, however, seems a bit counterintuitive to me as preparing them are normally quick and/or easy anyways.
You’ll have to wait a minute cause it’s an instamatic.
The words above are one of the many brilliant lyrics penned by the late Gord Downie. From the song “So Hard Done By”, I think it speaks of the ongoing conflict humanity has with time and the need to wait for anything. Just like money, time is a commodity and we decide how to spend it. I get irritated at people who tell me they don’t have time for the gym or television or buying their own groceries. Like money, how you use your time is a choice and there is usually enough for most things so let’s no don’t disguise choice, good or bad, as a by-product of not having enough time in a day.
What does this have to do with the Instant Pot? Simple…people crave any perception that they are saving their precious time even if they aren’t. You can’t tell me that roasting a chicken in an Instant Pot actually saves any time. You still need to prep the bird and clean up the pot after. The only variable is how long it takes. These are two different concepts. It’s kind of like Amazon prime. It takes the same amount of time to order regardless of which means we use; the difference with prime is we get it earlier. Let’s not mistake saving time with a lack of patience or the desire to get something immediately. They are two difference concepts.
The Dan Brown Phenomenon
Dan Brown burst onto the scene in 2003 with the Da Vinci code, his sophomore effect in the successful Robert Langdon series. I’m not a huge fan of Dan Brown’s writing per se but I think his brilliance was taking the concept of religious symbolism and instead of writing a textbook what would sit on a shelf (likely beside an instapot), he transformed his theories into a fictional novel. Despite a weak plot and poorly developed characters, the Da Vinci code has sold around 80 million copies and has people looking at their dollar bills a little more closely. I call the ability to disguise something as another for the purposes of increased exposure and/or profit the Dan Brown phenomenon.
Let’s be real…the Instant Pot is nothing more than a glorified pressure cooker. This technology has been around since the 17th century and the science really hasn’t evolved much since. It is the sole reason, after all, why Top Chef contestants can cook short ribs to near perfection in under an hour; a process which usually takes at least three. Despite the fact the ability to cook food faster by simply adding pressure has been around for almost 350 years, all of a sudden people are fascinated at the fact they can cook a chicken breast easier and faster than microwaving a hungry man dinner.
The Instant Pot: The Universal Remote Outside the Family Room
Maybe proponents of the Instant Pot will argue that it’s not the ability to pressure cook that makes it the best thing since sliced bread (although I believe the Lux model might actually slice bread as one of the features). They will instead argue that its multi-functionality is the key to its brilliance. The ability to steam rice, warm soup, saute veggies, set the pot to porridge setting and even make yogurt all in the same device seems revolutionary. This has likely lead to kijiji sites across the country lighting up with hundreds of only-used-once crock pots on sale due to “downsizing” for $20 o.b.o. My only issue is, much like losing the universal remote, you are screwed if anything happens to the all-in-one device and you may end up in a situation where you may actually have to remember how to turn on an element to boil some water….providing you have any pots or pans left in your dwindling reservoir of kitchen items.
I’m still on the fence about the Instant Pot. On one side, i think it has sparked a re-interest into getting people back into the kitchen with the intention of trying to cook using raw ingredients. This has been coupled by a sizable social media community posting cool and innovative ways to use the device suggesting that cooking may actually be fun again. The device has infused a sense of pride in both those with curious culinary minds who want to truly play with their food and those who are kitchen amateurs and can take pride in the fact they cooked spaghetti with “homemade” sauce in one pot.
On the other hand, the Instant Pot is another example of the constant propaganda intended to give us immediate satisfaction with minimal effort. It’s a glorified vending machine and another step toward Rosie the robot and the near complete automation of food preparation.
In the end, it’s not really about saving time but instead about feeding our need to satisfy our ever increasing impatience. The Instant Pot will eventually join the graveyard of kitchen gadgets with the likes of Gotham pans and George Foreman grills. Until then, people will continue to exercise creativity in efforts to abandon primitive cooking practices including using a stove top and a skillet, ultimately saving a few minutes while only washing one pot. Personally, I’ll continue to roast chickens, make stirfrys in a wok and buy my yogurt for $1.99 in a tub at the grocery store. If I do ever get an Instant Pot, it will likely be on kijiji, partially because I can feed my impatience knowing I can get it right away. Even Amazon prime would take a day or two …even if I eventually figured out how to use Alexa to help me order it.
After being hyper-vigilant for a few years, i fell off the blogging bandwagon for most of 2017. I can probably blame a universal shift or some other cosmic phenomenon but it’s mostly because I got jaded and lazy. I won’t spend much time on the laziness but will focus my efforts on the former. I’m prone to jadedness…some say it’s in my DNA. Perhaps it’s that I’m a disciple of Darwin and his theories of natural selection and the theory doesn’t seen to working at the moment.
I’m not about to go off on a general social commentary but I will bring my observations and feelings back to what I love to write about…food. What we eat and the industry surrounding it has not been immune to the utter stupidity that has infected the world over the past half decade. Whether it be social media, the deprioritization of what we eat as part of a dining experience or the utter ignorance of everything wrong in one of the most corrupt industries in current society, the relationship between who are and what we eat is at an impasse. Unless we really evaluate what we are doing and rethink things, we may end up severing a relationship that has been evolving for thousands of years.
To this day, one of the most important books I have ever read has been “You Eat What You Are; People, Culture and Food Traditions” but Thelma Barer- Stein. I first read it during a university course as part of my nutrition degree. It opened my eyes to the wedded yet delicate relationship between humanity and what we eat. It used to be quite simple; you ate what was around and developed a culture around that. With the advent of transportation, increased exposure to foods from all over the earth and a rapid fusion of many cultures in a span a few decades that strong cultural history is being forgotten, opening the doors to those with creative business minds to redefine and reinforce new ways for consumers to belong to their definition of food culture. Unfortunately, Dr. Barer-Stein left us in 2017 but I would have loved to sit down with her just for a few minutes to get her reaction to how, in a matter of a few years, managed to destroy our relationship with what we eat in the same fashion as what we have done to our precious environment.
Social media has been one of the biggest catalysts in the destruction of our relationship with food. At one point establishments survived based on word of mouth and quality of their menu as opposed to their elaborate social media platforms which are endorsed by hipster zombies who know how to use hash tags. Speaking to a friend, reading a review in a newspaper by a food critic (with proper prose and complete sentences) or getting you hands on a hard copy of a Zagat review has been replaced with uncensored bias reviews written in broken English by people revered for the quantity as opposed to quality of what they post. Yelp, for example, rewards those who post glowing reviews about every Tim Horton’s in town, citing things like “The coffee was priced similar to the other Tim’s across town” or “I saw they had maple dip donuts which is amazing because we live in Canada”.
Instagram is probably worse. True..a picture does speak a thousand words but unfortunately these photos are usually selfies representing “look what I have and how cool I am” versus “look at how good this looks”. Take the Starbucks unicorn frappuccino for example. Anthony Bourdain called it “the perfect nexus of awfulness. Just add pumpkin spice to that mix, and you can nuke the whole county”. I couldn’t agree more. In addition, I would argue it was one of the biggest reasons for truancy in 2017. High school students flocked to their local Starbucks instead of math class to get their hands on one and the main driver was bolstering their social media status. Being one of the first to post yourself looking like a giraffe sucking back heavily dyed 400 calories (complete with 10 g of saturated fat..the same as a Big Mac) and adding a clever hash tag like #iskippedschooltodrinkthisshit or #sweetthensourjustlikeme elevated your profile to new heights (at least for a few hours or until somebody posted a new puppy or something). In other words, food has become an accessory in a fashion similar to a designer purse or a pair of Hunters.
In the restaurant industry, food has slowly fallen from the centre of attention. At one point, people went out to have a good steak or the best eggs benny in town and actually communicated with those around them. Now it seems an experience out has become synonymous with heading to the CNE for Medieval Times in which you enter a rambunctious environment and watch a bunch of costumed knights put on a show while you wear a crown and slurp cold tomato soup from an iron bowl before tearing dry chicken off a leg bone with your teeth. Now, instead of jousting horses, you can go to most restaurants and be surrounded by similar barnstormers. Whether you are into pretentious aristocrats with fake accents or sullen hipsters with the menu tattooed on their arm, you can choose your own adventure. What’s even better is that in most cases the environment is so loud that you don’t even have to have a conversation with the person or people you are with. This is a definite advantage when you have to hang with annoying friends or family members or maybe with a match.com date that just isn’t working. Listen, I not saying that I don’t appreciate spending my money on a good overall experience which includes great service and a cool vibe but it can’t come at the experience of the food. I don’t think too many people have left medieval times saying the show sucked by the food was great. We can’t be lead to believe that the reverse mentality should exist for a place where sustenance should be the primary objective. Furthermore, we have succumb to the mentality that, unlike medieval times when servers were servers, it is acceptable for us as patrons to accept and encourage the sadistic attitude of those we pay as part of our bill. In other words, the acceptance of the current culture puts yet another barrier in the longstanding and evolutionary relationship between humans and the food we eat.
I want to clarify that I’m not against all social media. In many cases it can be used to unify like minds, promote a business or allow for free expression. The #metoo movement has been one of the best examples of an important use of social media…sort of. The core of the movement is long overdue as sexual harassment by whatever definition you choose to use has been running rampant for years. Part of the magic of facebook and other outlets is to allow the unification of people with commonality regardless of their position on the social ladder. A 50 year-old business executive who hit a glass ceiling because she wouldn’t engage in relations outside her job description has as much clout as a 19 year-old waitress who was inappropriately touched or verbally by a restaurant manager. Unfortunately, special interest groups (including Hollywood and yes, I do refer to Hollywood as a special interest group) have hijacked the cause. I’m not suggesting that making millions of dollars is an invitation to be sexually harassed. My point it that turning the Golden Globes into a funeral for the male species fueled by speeches of presidential intention don’t speak for the thousands of men and woman who may live in a constant environment of exploitation not to live in a mansion on the hills but instead in order to pay their rent in a one-bedroom apartment above a convenience store.
I have a 17 year-old daughter who worked for a local restaurant. A number of months ago she discussed a sexual harassment issue with management. A cook in the kitchen easily 40 years her senior continuing made references about how he would like to have babies with her. When it didn’t stop she brought it up with management and the solution was “he was warned”. The behaviour stopped but she was fired 6 months later. It was shortly after she was promoted to a serving position by one of the managers although she was not yet of the alcohol serving age. She was doing well until the owner came in and complained. The pattern continued…every time he would come in he would complain and harass the staff about an underage server right in front on my daughter. I still remember the night she came home and told me she was fired. I asked her why and she said they told her she was moved to a job she couldn’t handle and her old spot wasn’t available. When I went in to discuss it was a manager I was told it was because she missed work too many times (she called in sick once because she was…ummm…sick and other the time was because our dog of 5 years acutely went blind, fell down the stairs, shattered his front leg and had to be put down). The termination letter stated even a different reason for her dismissal. My point is, sexual harassment or not, employees in food service are treated like cutlery and other inventory and it has to stop. In general, they are at the highest risk of exploitation given the history of the industry, the need for gratuities to survive and the hierarchy and balance of power that exists. Simply making Mario Batali a celebrity sacrificial lamb and wearing black designer suits and gowns while you sip expensive champagne while ignoring the hundreds of other who wear short black skirts because they are pressured to and SERVE expensive champagne speaks to the Hollywood hypocrisy that plagues most social moments that exist. I really hope we see a dedicated movement in the restaurant business which recognizes harassment and even goes as far as to promote a harassment free menu and environment with the same awareness and passion that has been used for gluten and peanuts.
Much like our relationship with the environment, if we do not reevaluate our interconnection with what we eat in short order (pardon the pun) then good food will become as scarce as clean air and water. We need to show some gratitude for the food we eat and the people who serve it to us. I’m not suggesting we bow our heads and say grace (although I’m sure some marketing genius will find a hipster way to do it soon), I certainly didn’t take a selfie of me gorging on Grandma’s jelly salad or give her a slap on the ass on the way past the Thanksgiving table. Maybe we can use social media presence to promote the businesses and people who work hard to respect the food we eat and the people who make and serve it instead of using it to pad our inflated virtual egos. Maybe it’s time to realize that Hooter’s was founded in 1983 and yes, things have changed since then. Maybe it’s time to acknowledge that hikes in minimum wage and automatic 18% gratuities do not give us permission to treat food service staff like subordinates (although I’d ask the same in return). Finally, in the words of the late Thelma Barer-Stein, maybe it’s time to think about eating what we are and not whatever the output of the latest, flashy marketing campaign tells us to.
Ice cream used to be a kid’s food. As a child I would eagerly await the warm weather so that we could make the pilgrimage to one of the Dairy Queens in Sudbury (which at the time were nothing more than stands and were only open in the summer). Otherwise, I would store change under the mattress in the event that the Dickie Dee ice cream bike decided to grace our street with it’s presence. My mother didn’t necessarily approve (perhaps because there was a good chance the driver was a pedophile) so I was careful not to order the phantom because the carcinogenic purple dye stuck on my tongue would be a dead give away when I got home again. The rare time I traveled past the Hungry Bear in French River or the Espanola turnoff (depending if I was heading south or west) there was an off chance we would stop but was usually few and far between and usually centred around my mother’s craving for a scoop of Tiger Tail.
Unfortunately, in a manner synonymous with walkers infiltrating cities across America, hipsters have decided that ice cream in now in their wheel house. Maybe it started earlier than I thought. Years ago, Dennis the Menace was scrapped as Dairy Queen’s “spokesperson” and replaced by savvy commercials and sultry lips beckoning those with the wallets to come and bring the kids if you want. A bigger testament to this theory is what has happened in Toronto. Grown adults are now forfeiting coffee houses and Netflix marathons to stand in line for hours to pay asinine amounts for ice cream. In most cases, kids are nowhere to be found. Take Bang Bang Ice cream for example. In addition to the possible sexual connotations of the name, I previously blogged that was there one night I got in line only to find soft-core cartoon porn projected onto the wall while a hipster dad in front me in line (who presumably only went to grab the kids an ice cream sandwich) had to cover his hipster kid’s eyes. In other words, their ice cream came with a side of ass. A second example was a recent trip to Sweet Jesus, the newish soft serve joint. Shunned by some zealots for its anti-Christ antics like an emblem featuring an upside-down cross or a website that ironically features satanic looking children with tattoos, pet monkeys and gold chains, a key characteristic of this place is a disgruntled and tattooed ice cream artist taking your order instead of a 16 year kid who has their first job and splotches of melted product all over their shirt. The flagship location is a few blocks away from the Rogers Centre and I sat watching the parade of people waiting to score a treat. From the other direction a dad and his daughter (who was maybe 12) arrived. The look of befuddlement on the dad’s face was priceless. I could read his mind as he looked down at his daughter’s equally puzzled face. Essentially he was thinking that all he wanted to do is get his daughter a cone after the game and the limiting factor was an hour wait because of a bunch or grown adults were waiting in line. I’m sure if the girl was confused or upset or both but they quietly departed perhaps in search of another post-game treats that wouldn’t be impaired by Toronto’s urban “walkers”. Maybe these places should have a kid’s express lane where parents can bring their kids for a quick and porn-free ice cream experience. Trust me…the hipsters don’t mind waiting….it makes them cooler and gives them opportunities to discuss their social angst, explain their tattoos and show off their baggy jean shorts.
I fully acknowledge that this is likely another trend that the hipsters have plowed through similar to tacos, burgers and anything with kale but I’m hoping it is short lived. We have already removed a good portion of our children’s ability to be kids with social media stimulation and fears to let them explore their own neighbourhoods. Let’s give them their ice cream back for Sweet Jesus sakes.
Some people are addicted to television. For some it’s booze. Others it’s food. For me, it’s all three. From a television perspective, I watch the spectrum but I’m partial to dramas. From gritty HBO shows to cheesy cable crime fighting, I’m a sucker for it all. One show I’m partial to is Scorpion, the absolutely ridiculous account of the life of Walter O’Brien, a man who supposedly recorded an IQ of 197, the 4th highest in history. Him and his band of social misfits (including the actor who played “Shit Break” in the American Pie franchise) hang in a garage and await for various facets of the government to call them for help landing planes, breaking codes or minimizing the impact of natural disasters in urban areas. There seems to be no job too difficult for the crew but I doubt even Scorpion’s team of geniuses can match the kind of magic people like April and Chastity can perform during a episode of TLC’s extreme couponing.
Couponing has evolved from the days of clipping paper with the same skill set required as needlepoint to needing a post-secondary education in advanced mathematics to decipher deals driven by algorithms which consist of more variables than a quadratic equation. For the purposes of argument, I will focus on my trifecta of food cost savings; flyers, checkout 51 and PC points.
Flyers are the blueprint of the ultimate cost saving experience. A mere glance through the colourful pages tells you where the cheapest bread, potatoes or Nutella are. For some, they price match. Personally, I am against the practice of price matching for two reasons. First, I hate making people wait for me and the thought of rifling through pages of pictures like I’m looking at mugshots after witnessing a crime makes me very uncomfortable. Second, I hate when I’m wrong and the last thing I want to do is be corrected by a snotty 18 year old cashier when I try and price match the wrong jug of Tropicana orange juice. I cringe at the thought of her snarled nose as she tells me “Sorry sir, but that’s the three point forty nice litre jug you have, NOT the two point sixty three litre one”. Rumour has it that grocery stores will phase out price matching in the near future.
There is a list of grocery items I refuse to buy unless they are on sale which includes pop, yogurt and cereal. I also have a strict rule that I will not pay more than $0.25 per roll of toilet paper. I won’t pay triple figures for pasta or a box of Kraft Dinner and cheddar cheese needs to be less that $5 a block. For other items, it’s like playing the price is right; you just get used to the prices and can easily bust into a game of grocery game or Hi Lo at a moment’s notice. In order to enforce these rules, I often need a detailed itinerary to ensure maximum efficiency. This involves minimizing unnecessary driving and understanding which stores will have the highest chance of such items in stock.
I got hooked on the Checkout 51 app about a year ago and have since banked just shy of $250. The premise seems simple enough. Every week, you get a list of products which, after purchase, you scan the receipt and receive a cash reward. There are numerous advantages to this app. First, in most cases (unless otherwise stated), you can buy the products anywhere. Second, there are often big name and well recognized products such as Tide, Kellogg’s cereal and hair/beauty products like Dove, Axe, Pantene etc. There are also practical deals for things like..umm…lady essentials. On the fun side, you’ll get the odd McDonald’s offer and even discounted BOOZE including a few bucks off select beer, wine and even spirits.
The bad news is the fact that many of the offers are limited in number and there are cases when I got home and was too late to scan my receipt. Damn them! Also, you have to remember not to use your receipt as a facial tissue or a chewed gum depot before you have had a chance to snap a shot. Another factor is the fact that many of the deals repeat themselves and before you know it, you have a arsenal of dish soap large enough to survive a zombie apocalypse.
The need for Walter O’Brien comes in again when you are offered further savings for buying multiple items. For example, sometimes if you buy 4 back to school products they will throw another $1 into your account the next week and yes, I have gone to 4 different stores to get the 4 items to get the extra buck. I never said I didn’t have a problem.
The introduction of PC points was deemed an evolution in points programs. This promised to be a smarter program which analysed your buying patterns and offered deals on that basis. It’s a bit creepy and at the same time a bit random. I mean, I get offered points for dog food regularly but this week I can save on farmer’s market muffins and boxed meat;two things I never buy although I’ve been with the program for well over a year.
You accumulate points until you have at least 20 000. Some people will redeem ASAP while others will let the points build with some expectation that at some point they may be able to buy the store or have enough t buy food for their kid’s university career. For me, I save the points until I have to buy something I hate spending money on. This year, I got a great Fraser Fir at Christmas time for free.
Once again, the services of Scorpion may be required to understand PC points. The issue is the way the points are awarded. For example, last week I could get 1000 points for every $4 spent on Tre Semme hair care. With three girls in the house, this was a no brainer. The problem was the product was on sale for $3.97. So, by buying two I got 1000 points because I was six cents short of 8 bucks. The other problem is you can only redeem an offer once. For example, you may get 100 points for every dollar you spend on beef. If you want to get steak at Loblaw and ground beef at Superstore, you need to decide which would cost you more and go there first so you don’t waste you deal on the cheaper product. Another reason to have Mr. O’Brien on speed dial.
One of the most gratifying grocery shopping experiences is when you complete the trifecta in which you find a flyer deal which is also on checkout 51 and offers PC points. This happens about an often as an eclipse but is just as exciting. It goes something like this…you open up the No Frills flyer to see Delissio pizzas on for $4.44. When you open the PC points app, you also see that you get 1000 PC (the equivalent of a dollar) for every $4 spent. Finally, you flip open Checkout 51 to see that you can get a buck off a pizza as well. In the end, the pizza costs $2.44 and you feel like you won the lottery.
I’ll admit I have a problem but I get great joy when it comes to saving money on food. Sure, I sometimes buy things I really don’t need so I build up PC points or Checkout 51 dollars but in the end a little extra time can lead to big savings and bragging rights. Yeah..that’s right. I have sent pictures to friends with step by step pictures and text showing how I earned three cents buying Dove antiperspirant with a flyer special, Checkout 51 and a sheet on stick on coupons I got from a buddy and keep in my trunk for a rainy day. In the end, I’m no Walter O’Brien (although I could use his help sometimes) but I think keeping my mind sharp with couponing not only saves me money on shampoo but saves me having to subscribe to luminosity.com to spare my cognitive decline.
I went to school at the University of Guelph which meant I got to know a lot of agriculture students, many of which are self-proclaimed rednecks. I also grew up in Sudbury. As a result, I could relate when Jeff Foxworthy burst onto the scene in the early nineties with his signature “You Might Be a Redneck” franchise. To this date, I still laugh at them. The latest one I heard was “If you have just been interviewed about the tornado for the fifth time…you might be a redneck.” I appreciate his humour in the sense that, like Jerry Seinfeld, he can make fun of the boring antics of Caucasians through astute observation.
This got me thinking what would happen if Jeff were a hipster. I think he would have a field day with the antics of this outrageous urban subculture. There are definite differences between rednecks and hipsters. For example, ask both what PBR means and one would reference professional bull riding while the other would ask for a beer. I’m not pretending for a second that I’m some hilarious comedian but I do eat out a lot and have been immersed in this culture long enough to make some general observations. So here is my attempt at “you might be a hipster”:
If you read your tattoos to kill time on the subway…you might be a hipster.
If your wardrobe is less diverse than Fred Flintstone’s…you might be a hipster.
If at least one of your T-shirts has a picture of Fred Flintstone…you might be a hipster.
If your happy hour starts at 10 pm…you might be a hipster.
If your pre-set iPhone alarm contains nothing with the letters “am” in it…you might be a hipster.
If your meaning of gelling with someone is comparing the product in your slick backs…you might be a hipster.
If your primarily using your Bachelor of Arts to sculpt your mustache…you might be a hipster.
If you live above where you eat…you might be a hipster.
If you know the difference between crudo and carpaccio but not the difference between walk and don’t walk…you might be a hipster.
If you can identify Nicaragua, Columbia and Kenya in a cup but not on a map…you might be a hipster.
If you have “ubered” yourself for a ride home…you might be a hipster.
If your definition of a car payment is $10 to a food truck…you might be a hipster.
If you wait longer for a taco than you do a medical procedure…you might be a hipster.
If you think “gimmie the skinny” means taking off your tie…you might be a hipster.
If you need to register your beard with animal control on an annual basis…you might be a hipster.
I have no plans to quit my job and join the Plaid Collar Tour anytime soon but hey…it helps ease the pain.