Jill Moorhead

Choosing an ice cream isn’t as simple as vanilla and chocolate anymore. Slow-churned, non-GMO, no-sugar-added, grass-grazed — your grocer’s ice cream section is a display of never-ending banners, slogans, and callouts, all vying for your attention with a very wide array of pricing options. The freezer is crowded, the goalposts are always changing, and new arrivals seem to come every week.

Meal kits are certainly convenient, and they’re also not as wasteful as you might think, but are they ever a good deal? To find out how meal-kit costs compare to traditional groceries, I ordered kits from Green Chef, Purple Carrot, and Hello Fresh, and then I went shopping for the same ingredients at the supermarket.

Meal kits have much to offer. They’re relatively simple to use, they can be catered to your dietary needs, and an increasing number of companies are using local and organic ingredients. Not to mention the obvious: Having all the makings of dinner delivered means you don’t have to make a trip (or trips) to the grocery store or even think about what to cook tonight. But those direct-to-your-doorstep boxes also come with a little baggage.

The growing number of direct-to-consumer meal plan companies and the ease of use belies a deceptively complicated business model. It takes a lot of planning, and a lot of people, to get that big box of ingredients for pad Thai burgers and ginger salmon cakes to your front door. For the folks at Plated, for example, it takes close to 500 people with multiple areas of expertise, from recipe development and sourcing, to packing and shipping, to technology and marketing.

Those of us in the Midwest know that going to the grocery store is 100 times more awful in the middle of winter than it is any other time of year. It’s basically scientific fact. Even people who consider grocery shopping date fodder (me) can admit that the allure of a delivered option is strong in March. Receive food without putting on pants or a scarf? Count me in. Here are a few options for the grocery-phobic. You literally don’t have to think.

The bulk foods section, with its various bins of flours and grains, nuts and seeds, sugars and spices, is the very opposite of the brightly packaged, mass-produced foods of the center aisles. There’s something charmingly retro about the array of tiny textures on display — and it can be sexy, too! When Amelie sticks her hand in a bin of lentils at the corner market, a tingling effect takes over. (Don’t say you don’t want to do the same!

I’ll never forget the results of the derecho that hit the Midwest a few summers ago. With the winds came power outages that drew neighbors out into their yards (time to grill that stuff from the freezer!) and grocery store folks into depression. Cartloads upon cartloads of artisan cheese, meat, and dairy products were piled into the trash, and if anyone in the area had electricity to store or cook the foods, it would have made for the finest dumpster diving in the land.

I grew up in a world where putting powdered butter-like flavoring over broccoli was common, and eating curdled dairy by the spoonful was completely fine — but raw fish and cucumbers wrapped in rice was absolutely terrifying. Sushi has come a long way. While I can count on one hand the number of family members who’d eat even a simple California roll, I’m happy to say it’s become a norm in the grocery store.

In the grocery world, Black Friday comes on a Wednesday. The day before Thanksgiving is one of the busiest (think: top two) days, industry-wide. Shopping carts and baskets are filled with predictable wares, from crescent rolls to sausage to sage. Everything (from creamed corn to staff) is beefed up in stores the week prior to Thanksgiving.

The endcap — a display of products placed at the end of an aisle in a store — is part of a contract between you and your grocer. You promise to look at the merchandise and occasionally buy from the end-of-aisle shelves, and your grocer promises to change the contents frequently, price items clearly, and keep it fully stocked and beautiful.

When things get busy in grocery stores, it’s all hands on deck. In my grocery cashiering days, the siren call from Sarge (our nickname for the drill sergeant-like cashier in charge of the intercom system) could be heard through the store and into the corporate offices: ALL CASHIERS AND CARRYOUTS TO THE FRONT, PLEASE. The “please” at the end was code for “everyone.

A savvy shopper keeps an eye on the the perimeter of the store, with its seasonal changes in selection and price being the easiest to track. But even though every grocery is filled with products boasting nonstop claims, I’ve yet to see a sticker on a container of strawberries that says, “Now in season: I taste better!” Food marketers, please go forth and make this change upon our shopping experience. In the meantime, here’s a list of what tastes great this month.

There are oh-so-many buzzwords in the food industry (family farms, anyone?) and many of them are vague. While there’s a meter to help break through corporate speak, it takes a bit of label reading and research to learn what exactly the claims on your package mean, and how, exactly, to know what you’re eating. Here’s a guide to food marketing-ese in the grocery store. Unless you’re completely avoiding whole grains, you’re supposed to consume them.

Grabbing a bite in your grocery is not only contributing to a growing trend, but it’s also a way to help your market deal with excess product (read: not throw away food) and ensure the fresh items you want in the perimeter departments are there the next time you need them. You’re not being lazy, you’re being green — and an important part of your market’s ecosystem. (Does your market serve wine? Go ahead and grab a glass as well.

In my grocery store marketing days, I spent my time getting things — ideally groceries, via a financial transaction — out of the store. Unfortunately, the grocery industry creates literally tons of waste, both in product and packaging, and thus my job sometimes involved finding responsible alternatives to the dumpster. For larger retailers, finding avenues for that waste is a full-time job. Here is what happens to the waste in your grocery store. First, the good news.

There are many theories, myths, and misconceptions about how and why grocers operate.

How do your groceries get to the grocery store? Have you ever wondered? They come by semi, by box truck, in pink-and-white fully-wrapped PT Cruisers touting local cupcake businesses. And sometimes, grocery suppliers come in by foot, with plastic totes of freshly foraged mushrooms, hand-picked squash and still-warm-from-the-oven baguettes. Mornings are the busiest.

You don’t need a pile of coupons to get added value from your grocer. Grocers have a lot to communicate to their customers, and unless you pick up that newsletter or get chatty with that cashier who’s been there since Crystal Pepsi was in stock, some of their offerings get buried under more urgent messages like 5 for $5 promos, cooking classes, or a new offering in the deli.

I am fluent in the language of grocery. I speak POS and SOP, FIFO and EDLP*. I believe Doose’s Market is the true star of Gilmore Girls and deserves its own mention in the opening credits. My favorite Christmas song is Dan Fogelberg’s “Same Old Auld Lang Syne,” because unrequited love in a grocery store parking lot is the best kind of love.