Tag Archives: costco

Is There Anything Sadder Than Costco in January?

When I went shopping just after Christmas, my local Costco was virtually unrecognizable. All remnants of Christmas had vanished, as if the entire holiday season (signs of which, by the way, appeared in early October) had never happened. And so I lie awake at night and wonder…did they sell ALL those neatly wrapped boxes of Belgian chocolate? ALL the 8-foot tall teddy bears? Every last pallet of Panettone?

Just days before Christmas, the place had been a happy madhouse. There were traffic jams near the meat counter, long lines at checkout, and a parking lot situation that looked like the bumper cars at the state fair – but the Christmas spirit prevailed. I don’t know why; perhaps the marketing geniuses at Corporate determined just which Christmas songs were best suited for both calming the nerves and opening the wallets.

The Christmas Season at Costco is a playground for the senses. Holiday tunes drift magically from the player piano ($2,799.99!). The high-pitched whirr of a blender makes milkshakes, which are offered to shoppers by a nice lady demonstrating a Vitamix. You can walk down the row of home goods and plunge your arms elbow-deep into throw blankets that feel like real fur.

Of course, the warehouse is still a warehouse – it never quite attains the glistening visual appeal of a Crate and Barrel – but it’s also not nearly as breakable. Thank goodness for that, because it’s easy to get distracted by a giant inflatable snowman and accidentally ram your cart into a pallet of grapefruit.

But the very best thing about Costco during the holidays is the merchandise. For a limited time, you can practically get diabetes just by standing too close to the desserts. They have coffee cake, tiramisu, peppermint bark, shortbread cookies, apple pies, and tins of “biscuits” with pictures of European cities on them. Nearby, the endless piles of toys beckon. My kids are too old for most of them, but it’s still fun to browse the remote-control cars and hover boards and packs of 100 colored pencils, sharpened and ready to go.

Alas, all that good stuff disappears the day after Christmas. When I arrived and showed my member card at the door, I entered a different world.

The store was silent – no more music. Just the shuffling, snow-booted feet of the shoppers in front of me, wiping icy slush (ugh!) from their practical footwear. Such are the sights and sounds of winter in Massachusetts, with no Christmas to distract us.

After Christmas, there is not one fun thing left in that store. Apparently, January is the month when we pay for our holiday sins. The dessert section was replaced with industrial size jars of protein powder, which presumably we need to add to the diet green smoothies we’ll grudgingly consume until spring break (and made with that new Vitamix!).

What else is featured in Costco after Christmas? Well, lots of mattresses. Respectable-looking furniture (nothing too funky or hip). Throw rugs. Among the sweaters and coats, a lone table of women’s bathing suits mocks me, as if to say “It’s too cold to wear us now and you’d only depress yourself by squeezing these over your pale, over-fed body.” I can’t deny it.

I still go to Costco, because life goes on and we need milk, laundry detergent, and wine. Lots of wine (the next best thing to Christmas for distracting one from winter in Massachusetts).

On the bright side, the crowds have thinned considerably and parking is easy. Costco is like church – after Christmas, you see who the regulars are. And you wait for the next holiday, when it will be warm and crowded once again.

Pumpkin Spice Everything

There are two kinds of people in the world: those who welcome the autumnal onslaught of pumpkin-spiced everything, whose taste buds crave cinnamon and sugar paired delectably with a certain spectacular squash, and those with bad taste. I proudly call myself among the former.

This is MY TIME. Pumpkin season. The official launch comes when Starbucks announces the annual return of the PSL (my pumpkin peeps need no further explanation; for the rest of you, “PSL” is what serious consumers call the Pumpkin Spice Latte).

And so begins my favorite season, when the photos of food people post online include delights like the one I saw yesterday: Pumpkin Cheesecake Snickerdoodles. If those aren’t the three most mouth-watering words in the English language, I don’t know what are. They were accompanied by a photo that can only be described as hard-core food porn.

If pumpkin lovers gave awards for innovation and output, the hands-down winner would be Trader Joe’s. The product developers in their corporate headquarters must enjoy a little too much pumpkin liqueur (yes, it’s a thing, and it’s delicious) when they brainstorm, because they come up with some fantastic ways to use this gorgeous gourd.

My list is from memory and therefore not exhaustive, but Trader Joe’s sells pumpkin ice cream, pumpkin butter, pumpkin toffee, pumpkin cereal bars, pumpkin spice granola, pumpkin truffles and pumpkin pancake and waffle mix. Their pumpkin bread mix is so awesome that customers stock up in the fall and carefully ration their supplies for the rest of the year (I may know this from personal experience).

For the next couple of months, all grocery store shelves will overflow with limited edition tempting treats. Pumpkin donuts. Pumpkin yogurt. Pumpkin Pop Tarts. Pumpkin spiced nuts. Pumpkin coffee. Pumpkin cookies. Pumpkin muffins and bagels. I purchased a six-pack a pumpkin beer the other day, which I love but my serious beer-drinking friends find disgusting.

Even restaurant menus cater to folks like me. Pumpkin soup to start. Pumpkin cheesecake and pumpkin crisp on the dessert menu. Salads topped with pepitas, a charming name for pumpkin seeds that implies they might at any moment begin dancing to mariachi music on top of my arugula. I even saw a pumpkin martini on a menu recently, although that seemed to me a bridge too far.

After all, it’s possible to go wrong with pumpkin. I typed “pumpkin spice…” into my search engine and Google, with its eerie Big Brother ways, tried to guess what I would type next. The first choice was a pleasing “pumpkin spice latte.” But what came next? “Pumpkin spice tampon.” I was too afraid to click the link.

Despite my fondness for all things pumpkin, I have never actually cooked one. I get little ones in my farm share and stage them on my porch a la Martha Stewart. They are suggestively called “pie pumpkins” but I’m not tempted to go down that road. I’d probably slice off a finger trying to make it pie-ready, and after hours of preparation the finished product wouldn’t be nearly as good as the pie Costco is willing to sell me for $5.99.

The grand finale and the conclusion of the season come when I serve the pumpkin pie that follows Thanksgiving dinner. Once I push back from the table, wash the dishes and put away the silver, pumpkin season is officially over. Pumpkin lovers everywhere say goodbye to the tastes of fall and turn to the flavors of December…

Peppermint!

candycanes