A chicken is roasting in the oven, but that's not why I went food shopping yesterday afternoon.The weather forecasters predicted a huge snowfall, something folks on Twitter were tagging as #snowpocalypse. Having lived in Rochester, New York and then central Massachusetts, I'm rarely moved by weather-generated hysteria. I've seen real snow. Heck, I've even driven in it without 4-wheel drive. Not around here, of course.
Here in Suburban Captivity, everyone freaks out whether one inch or three feet of snow are predicted. Here, everyone heads for the stupormarket to stock up for the big storm. What do they jam the parking lot, clog the aisles, and choke the checkout lines to buy? Bread and milk.
Bread. Milk. Why?
Me? I go
to the store to load up on items in these essential foods groups: crunchy-salty, dip, dessert, caffeinated soda, and dark chocolate. Being very disciplined, I wait until at least four inches of snow have accumulated before digging into these goodies.
And I never worry about gaining weight because like anything scarfed down in a moving vehicle, snow day snacks do not have calories.
