Where’s your Publix?

I was at a dinner party on Friday evening, and the conversation turned to my current search for a place to rent in the downtown area.  I had mentioned that my future roommate and I were considering locations based on the proximity to a Publix we liked.

“College Park’s out, because we both hate the College Park Publix,” I explained, “and Clark doesn’t like Gay Asian Publix that much, so we’re looking at North Colonialtown so we can go to the Publix on 17-92 near the Krispy Kreme.”

This sparked a flurry of discussion as to where the best Publixes were, which was interesting.  Clark would be happy to know that he isn’t the only one who doesn’t like Gay Asian Publix–his dislike, by the way, is best summed up in a trip to that Publix and discovered they were out of waxed dental floss.  “They’re always out of everything!” he attests, and at least a couple of last night’s dinner attendees would agree.  I personally have been unable to locate GoodSense’s dried cranberries and apples there on repeated trips.  Interestingly, when I went with my mother to the Publix in Oviedo this evening, they had the elusive bag of dried fruit.

Sarah and Robert recently moved to a new area, and at the moment, there isn’t a Publix that’s terribly convenient for them to go to aside from the despised Shine Publix (aka Gay Asian or, with some, “Gaysian”).  They recently joined the unfortunately-named BJ’s, which is a bulk goods store that also sells groceries, so they tend to go there, with occasional trips to the larger Publix on Orange and Michigan, south of Downtown.  I used to shop at that Publix frequently when I used to live with my ex-boyfriend Brent and our roommate, Shawn, on Briercliff.  When I moved to South Colonialtown, I bitched about Gay Asian Publix, but after a while, I loved it, because it didn’t have some things I tended to waste money on, but yet it had all the essentials I needed.

Then I moved to the fringes of College Park and became perpetually aghast at the lack of certain staples.  I recall one event when my friend Mike and I went into the Publix, since he needed to pick up some things, and we walked right back out because that particular Publix didn’t carry Worthington Loma Linda Vegan Big Franks, a staple for the vegan who doesn’t like vegetables, like Mike.

By the way, the Oviedo Publix doesn’t carry, from what I could tell, the Loma Linda Big Franks, as I was looking for them this evening.  Oviedo Publix: +1 for the Goodsense Cranberries & Apples, -1 for no Big Franks.

As the conversation yesterday wore on, Alexis revealed a “dark horse” Publix that wasn’t even considered by either Clark or myself in our rental hunt: the Baldwin Park Publix.  “Ohhh,” we collectively pondered as we thought about the Baldwin Park Publix.  “It’s great!  It’s never crowded, it has everything!” Alexis evangelised.  I believe Erin countered with, “I can never figure out how to get into that Publix!” but no one else had gone to the Baldwin Park Publix, mostly because it’s in Baldwin Park, and no one really goes into Baldwin Park unless they live in Baldwin Park, at least no one I know.  I began to ponder what other secrets Baldwin Park might hold… I hear there’s a Mexican restaurant in there somewhere.

As far as I know, everyone I know shops at Publix unless it’s late in the evening and Albertson’s is the closest and/or only choice, or they go to a bulk goods place, like BJ’s or Costco.  So, when we talked about which Publixes we liked and found ourselves going to, and which ones we felt “never have anything,” it not only showed which neighbourhoods we roamed in, but also indicated what we individually felt were essential for a Publix to have.  Like Mike’s Loma Linda Vegan Big Franks, I have my own necessities that I feel every Publix, or at least the ones I go to, should carry.  Here’s a sample of some of my essentials:

1. bagged salad greens, Earthbound Farms or Greenwise brand
2. big bags of organic flour (all Publixes seem to no longer carry the larger bags of the Gold Medal Organic flour many of them were carrying, so I go to Whole Foods now for this)
3. organic bananas
4. organic lemon juice
5. a good selection of Wolfgang Puck soup, my favourites being Corn Chowder, Old-Fashioned Potato and Tortilla
6. Martin’s Famous potato bread in its various forms
7. Almond Breeze almond milk
8. Ghirardelli chocolate chips
9. Apple & Eve juices
10. Florida Crystals natural sugars

This list might not be complete, as I’m trying to envision what I used to buy when I used to do more grocery shopping, so I’m a bit forgetful.  Living with my parents, I don’t do much cooking here, so I don’t spend much on groceries.

If Clark and I move in the North Colonialtown area, we can try out the Baldwin Park Publix to see if it’s to our tastes.  If not, there’s always the Krispy Kreme Publix that carries Sioux City Birch Beer and has their Greenwise section right up front, which I absolutely love, or Gay Asian for quick runs for goods… but apparently not waxed dental floss.

South Colonialtown also has Gay Asian Publix, but also the Michigan/Orange Publix, aka the Delaney Park Publix, since that’s where you shop if you live in Delaney Park.  Apparently, the Delaney Park Publix has put in an olive bar near the deli area, which is awesome providing the bar is too high for dirty-fingered children to poke around in, although there are some dirty-fingered adults to consider as well.  Also, there’s going to be another Publix that will eventually open right in Downtown on Central, which should prove interesting.  I’m a little afraid that the Publix may try to cater to a perception of “downtown clientele,” like the now-defunct Central City Market did.  Central City Market generally carried swank wines and cheeses, as well as accompanying crackers, some pasta ingredients, beer and bottled water.  Not much else.  Eventually it turned into more of a restaurant that happened to have a few deli and grocery items… and now it’s a seafood restaurant.  Hopefully this Publix won’t try to be some hip urban Publix, but a functioning one that stays open until 10 pm and can handle what will surely be an insane crowd around lunchtime for sub sandwiches.

In the meantime, Clark and I have to stake our claim for a duplex or apartment, which will then determine our Publix options, among other things.

Gettin’ all Martha up in my parents’ kitchen

I’m more exhausted than usual after making a cake, because I made this particular cake at my parents’ house. Since I’m living with them, this is the first time I’ve baked anything in their abode, and I admit, I was having some serious moments–shock and awe–upon realising how unprepared my parents’ kitchen was for me.

It all started with these wild lemons my parents got from my Aunt Becky’s ranch. These warty-skinned wonders looked up at me from the basket my parents have them in, and they begged to be made into a tart. Well, I haven’t tried my amateur hand at tarts yet, so the lemons and I agreed upon a cake instead. I looked at the ingredients of an orange cake recipe I had (which I had altered to create this Glazed Orange Spice Cake), and determined the only things I needed to grab was some sour cream and powdered sugar.

So it was off to the nearby Oviedo Publix, which had a lovely NASCAR display, nicely flanked by cubes of Molson Ice or some other nasty equivalent. I picked up the missing ingredients, calling as I meandered the aisles to ask my father how many eggs we had (”We got five!”), then threaded my way past the soccer and lacrosse moms to the check-out aisle, whereupon I believe I creeped the manager bagging my groceries with my “Candy from Strangers” reusable shop bag I got from BlueQ.

Anyhoo, so I get back to my parents, and grab a couple of bumpy wild lemons to zest. However, there’s a problem: my parents do not own a zester. They neither own a grater. Wait, they *think* they own one of the two… so a search ensues. My mother discovers here angel food cake pan, along with a little hand juicer she bought at Publix, but no dice with the zester or a cheese grater. So, after a poor attempt to zest with a steak knife, I moved onto an apple peeler, which produced less than the 4 teaspoons of required zest in an uneven fashion. Oh well, no big deal, it’s good enough.

Then comes the time to measure the ingredients, and so ensues another hunt for measuring cups and spoons. After much, much digging, and some suggestions I outright refused, including what appeared to be the cup for cough syrup (”Well, that’s a teaspoon right there at the notch.”), Ma finally procures a set of measuring cups and a lone measuring spoon–1/2 teaspoon. Lucky for me, the recipe didn’t need anything measured in tablespoons, so I pressed on, considering the irony of the Bed, Bath & Beyond gift certificate I received this past Christmas, when maybe my parents should have picked up a set of measuring spoons with it instead. And a grater, or even more fancy, a microplane.

When it came time for the eggs, I opened up the fridge and, sure enough, there were five eggs. I only needed two, but there was, again, another problem: the eggs had a “Best before” date of January 25th. Folks, that was a month ago to the day.

So, I went back to Publix at around 8 pm, which is around the time most of the single men tend to do their Publix shopping, loading their carts and baskets with frozen foods and Molson Ice. I plunked in my basket eggs (”Best before March 30 ‘08″), measuring spoons and a grater.

After that, I didn’t run into any more problems, and the cake looks good. My ma’s been sticking her face in the cake since it’s been done, and I have to shoo her away, and I poured a lemon glaze over the top. I’ve got to say, it can be pretty exasperating baking and cooking in someone else’s kitchen. I remember the last time I had this much trouble, it was when I was baking biscuits at Mike George’s apartment. The poor man didn’t even have any knives, aside from his pocket knife that he offered, which I declined. I had to wait for Clark to come with a knife from his house so I could cut the dough into little squares for the biscuits.

To be fair, though, everyone’s kitchen is suited to them and how they make–or in some cases, just heat or reheat–food. My parents’ kitchen works for them for the most part, and that’s the important thing. I don’t plan on baking on a daily basis here, although I’m sure my mother would love it if I did.

So what does this wild lemon cake taste like? To be honest… I’m too tired to try it out right now. I took a photo on my digital camera of it post-glaze, and I’m about to cut it in half so that I can take a portion to my someone tomorrow. Of course, I have to relate my tale of guerrilla baking to him in order for there to be an understanding as to all that I went through to make this lemon cake.

I don’t think he reads my blog.

But, apparently, my Granny does! Hey, Granny!