Pecan pieces
May. 17th, 2011 10:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
I was at the supermarket today (buying things, not just hanging out) and part of what I needed to get, were pecan pieces.
Now, part of me is already going 'can't you just say "pecans" and then have an instruction to crush them?', because buying pecan pieces already pre-packaged is kind of really lazy. Something I'd totally still buy, just so I don't have to crush them myself, but it's lazy.
So I'm standing by the nuts, and there are no pecans. There are however walnuts, and Tiramisu almonds, which caused a major distraction on my part as I got simultaneously excited and hungry there on the spot. Consequently, I forgot to pick up the pasta, which is one of the main reasons I was going shopping. I had to ring my mother later and ask her to pick some up on her way home.
But I figured that if the pecans weren't in with the nuts, then they might be in with the baking things, so not to worry, and having forgotten the pasta, I walked away with the Tiramisu almonds in hand.
I should point out that the almonds have no purpose other than to be in the story. They're not significant in any way, just astoundingly delicious. I'm going to have trouble not eating like, a packet a day.
Over in the baking aisle, there's a whole bunch of things. Almonds (though not alcohol-flavoured-coated), almond slivers, almond meal (which is just a fancy way of saying "powder") walnuts, walnut halves, walnut pieces, crushed walnuts, and have we really become so lazy that they're pre-packaging all kinds of versions of this stuff? And also, there are walnuts over in with the nuts! Why do we need two walnut stands! Who the hell eats walnuts!? (jsyk, I do. Still, my indignant question is apt for this story)
And finally, hidden in the corner, behind the hanging stand things carrying plastic thingamabobs with no functional use and get in the way of what's on the shelves, are pecan halves.
Pecan. Halves. And they're four dollars something-a-rather (this is why I end up spending too much whenever I go food shopping, I don't pay a lot of attention to prices). And next the pecan halves sign, is a pecan pieces sign. For two dollars something-a-rather. Well hotdiggity. Laziness ahoy!
Part of me is thinking at this stage, why would the pieces be less value... is it that the more pecan still intact, the higher the value of the pecan? it doesn't make sense, that for two dollars less, you can get pieces. It's like saying "here, we've done all the work for you, so pay less" but with the halves they're saying "you not only have to pay more, you have to go home and do all the work yourself too!". Clearly, and I think we can all see where this is going, I'm going to buy the freaking packet of pieces.
But alas, on the actual shelf, in line with the "pieces" sign, were pecan halves.
I looked for the pieces. Lord knows I looked for pecan pieces. I moved an entire row of pecan halves out of the way in order to see if the pecan pieces were behind those packets. But it was not to be.
So not only now do I have to crush my own pecans, I got cheated out of two dollars. And I didn't pick up pasta.
Frickin Coles.
Now, part of me is already going 'can't you just say "pecans" and then have an instruction to crush them?', because buying pecan pieces already pre-packaged is kind of really lazy. Something I'd totally still buy, just so I don't have to crush them myself, but it's lazy.
So I'm standing by the nuts, and there are no pecans. There are however walnuts, and Tiramisu almonds, which caused a major distraction on my part as I got simultaneously excited and hungry there on the spot. Consequently, I forgot to pick up the pasta, which is one of the main reasons I was going shopping. I had to ring my mother later and ask her to pick some up on her way home.
But I figured that if the pecans weren't in with the nuts, then they might be in with the baking things, so not to worry, and having forgotten the pasta, I walked away with the Tiramisu almonds in hand.
I should point out that the almonds have no purpose other than to be in the story. They're not significant in any way, just astoundingly delicious. I'm going to have trouble not eating like, a packet a day.
Over in the baking aisle, there's a whole bunch of things. Almonds (though not alcohol-flavoured-coated), almond slivers, almond meal (which is just a fancy way of saying "powder") walnuts, walnut halves, walnut pieces, crushed walnuts, and have we really become so lazy that they're pre-packaging all kinds of versions of this stuff? And also, there are walnuts over in with the nuts! Why do we need two walnut stands! Who the hell eats walnuts!? (jsyk, I do. Still, my indignant question is apt for this story)
And finally, hidden in the corner, behind the hanging stand things carrying plastic thingamabobs with no functional use and get in the way of what's on the shelves, are pecan halves.
Pecan. Halves. And they're four dollars something-a-rather (this is why I end up spending too much whenever I go food shopping, I don't pay a lot of attention to prices). And next the pecan halves sign, is a pecan pieces sign. For two dollars something-a-rather. Well hotdiggity. Laziness ahoy!
Part of me is thinking at this stage, why would the pieces be less value... is it that the more pecan still intact, the higher the value of the pecan? it doesn't make sense, that for two dollars less, you can get pieces. It's like saying "here, we've done all the work for you, so pay less" but with the halves they're saying "you not only have to pay more, you have to go home and do all the work yourself too!". Clearly, and I think we can all see where this is going, I'm going to buy the freaking packet of pieces.
But alas, on the actual shelf, in line with the "pieces" sign, were pecan halves.
I looked for the pieces. Lord knows I looked for pecan pieces. I moved an entire row of pecan halves out of the way in order to see if the pecan pieces were behind those packets. But it was not to be.
So not only now do I have to crush my own pecans, I got cheated out of two dollars. And I didn't pick up pasta.
Frickin Coles.