TanoBlog

Cheapest Trip to Russo's

I had everything I needed for a good chicken dish, but found myself out of ginger. So I trooped over to Russo's as quick as I could, grabbed just what I needed and didn't get sucked into the usual "oh, that looks good" mode that sometimes forces me to fill my cart with lots of great fruits and vegetables.

My total bill? $.33. Yes, that's right, just 33 cents. A personal record.

Why Russo's Rocks

Around the corner from us just over the Watertown/Waltham line is a market called Russo's. Local legend has it that Julia Child used to shop here for her produce (back when it was a small, two-aisle store) and people have been known to drive up from Connecticut just for the organic meats and specialized cheeses.

It beats Whole Foods (equally close to our house in a different direction) on just about everything, from price to quality. But I was unaware how great their prices truly are.

This weekend we spent our time planting a garden. We decided on some tomatoes, green beans, bell peppers and a few varieties of herbs (rosemary, basil, oregano, chives and parsley). I got everything I needed at Russo's, except for one red bell pepper plant. So while I was out today I stopped by Lexington Gardens, the large, famous gardening store about a mile from Lexington Green, and picked up a plant. While there I walked through the herb selection.

Lexington Gardens has a much wider selection, but at a much higher price. Where Russo's charges $10 for four herb plants, Lexington Garden wants $20.99 for three! Here's the rub: these are the same brand of herbs with the same plastic labels on them. So you can't even say "well, these are higher quality herbs from a specialty grower" they're not. They're just more expensive.

My only complaint about Russo's is that it's becoming exceedingly popular. It used to be that just a few locals knew about it, but now it's impossible to get in there on a Sunday. Though, I can still pick up a week's worth of produce for the five of us by spending about $20.

Vindication!

Those of you living in the Boston area have probably heard of Harvey Leonard. The Boston Globe recently called him "iconic" when describing local TV weather forecasters. He is currently a key part of the Newscenter 5 weather team. Let me just give you a small snippet of his official bio:

Widely regarded as one of Boston's top meteorologists, Leonard is the 1999 winner of the prestigious "Award for Outstanding Service by a Broadcast Meteorologist" from the American Meteorological Society. In addition, Leonard earned two New England Emmy Awards for outstanding achievement in television weathercasting, and he has been named "Best Meteorologist" by Boston Magazine in 1984, 1986, 1988 and 1994 and has been dubbed the Hub's "favorite forecaster" by the Improper Bostonian. Most recently, Leonard was named as a fellow of the American Meteorologist Society.

I had the pleasure of working with Leonard back in my TV news days, and as happenstance would have it, I work with his daughter. So I took our little weather argument to him, and what does he have to say?

The answer is it usually does not snow that much in early December, especially near the coast, because the ocean is still mild and the winds usually blow in from the ocean when we are getting most of our heavy duty cold weather season precipitation.

Indeed, 3 of the last 4 early Decembers have been unusual in that there has been significant snow, even along the coast.

Boston only averages 7" of snow in December, and the majority of the time, the snow is later in the month.

Also, Boston has a White Christmas only once every four or five years on average.

So there you have it, the first four years of Benjamin's life have been unusual. Being that we are relatively close to the ocean, we are usually snow-free through Christmas, certainly during the early part of the month.

I'm sure she can never hear this enough: mom was right.

Snow... again?

Around the time that Ellen was due with Benjamin, I made the unfortunate comment to my father-in-law that it rarely snows in the Boston area during December. This is a statement backed up my mother, who actually grew up around here.

Yet, the day after Benjamin showed up it snowed. Just a few inches, but enough for Alex and me to go into the back yard and make a snowman.

Now, three out of four years it's snowed on or around his birthday. This gives my father-in-law the chance to ride me by saying "so it doesn't snow in December?" I expect his call soon.

Well today it snowed yet again and more is expected tomorrow. It happens that I'd already planned to take Benjamin to see "March of the Penguins," as he was very sad to find out that Alex was going to a birthday party at the indoor playground in Woburn. Considering that the whole film takes place on the icy surface of Antarctica, and that it's about parental devotion, it seemed an appropriate choice.

He enjoyed it, even if it had some pretty intense moments. We also finished off a large popcorn together.

On the ride home I decided to stop off and look at a Subaru. My car is getting a bit old, so I'm starting to see what's around. Actually, my car isn't getting old, it is old. At nearly 15 years with only 83,000 miles, the 91 Volvo seems like it can go on a lot longer. But it rattles and shakes, plastic pieces have started to crack or fall off. The paint isn't what it was, the moon-roof switch doesn't work and a a relay or two are gone. It's serviceable and starts every morning without fail, no matter the temperature. It isn't going to die on me, but it's getting tired. Or maybe it's just me who's getting tired of driving it.

Anyway, Ben and I had fun jumping in and out of a few cars, then got back in the Volvo to head for home. But, this being a Subaru dealership, they never bothered plowing the driveway. My car, being rear wheel drive, doesn't like that. So I slipped, spun and slid until I had to hang my pride, troop back inside and ask for help.

This gave every salesperson the opportunity to giggle and say "Well, if you had a Subaru...." I finally turned to one and said, half jokingly, "You guys are enjoying this, aren't you?"

Still, they were nice enough to help get my car back on pavement. I may have to pay them back by picking out a nice Legacy.

Reasons Why I Don't Belong in an Auto Parts Store

So we needed new wiper blades for the minivan. I've bought wiper blades before and figured I could handle this task, so I stopped in an auto parts store in Watertown.

I walk up to the little machine that tells me what blades I need, punch in the numbers for a 2004 Honda Odyssey and pick up my two blades. Great. I pay, I leave.

When I get home I install one on the driver's side without a hitch, then go to install the passenger one, only to realize that the passenger side requires a different size blade. For some reason the designers at Honda thought that since the car has three wiper blades (two on the front, one in the back) it should take three different sizes. I don't know why this makes sense, but I'm hoping they have a good reason for it. Since my 1991 Volvo manages to have two wipers of the same size, I'm guessing it has something to do with the Odyssey being a more technologically "advanced" vehicle.

So I took Shoshi and headed back to the auto parts store to exchange my wiper blade. This seemed like a pretty straightforward thing to do.

I walked up to the register where I was immediately, and silently, pointed to another desk where four men stood behind the counter, three of them punching feverishly at computers. One, wearing a red shirt with a name tag that said "John" told me that he couldn't help me, but the man next to him, wearing a blue shirt with a name tag that said "John," could. But blue John was assisting someone else.

So I stood there with my toddler jumping around at my feet, constantly nervous that she would touch something she shouldn't be. She shed her jacket and continued her wandering.

After about five minutes, blue John finally finished with his customer, but then ended up on the phone, so Shoshi and I stood some more. Finally he had time for me. He took my wiper blade and told me to go back and find the one I needed while he started processing my exchange.

My trip to the back was seemingly successful and I returned to the front to do my simple exchange. Suddenly I was asked my name, phone number, address, name of first born, any recognizable scars or tattoos, etc.

After going through all this I was finally told that I'd be getting $2 back. Yay! But Blue John needed approval from another guy, this one in a black shirt. I didn't see his name tag, but let's call him "John." Black-shirted John was busy cavorting with a friend/customer and had to be dragged away, he pushed one button and moved on. Maybe the shirt color makes a difference in what buttons a John can push.

So I handed over my credit card, which I had used originally, and started getting Shoshi's jacket back on. But when I stood up from fighting her with the coat (my attempt was unsuccessful), I was handed a piece of paper along with my new wiper blade and told that I needed to go to the register. Apparently, I have $2 in the computer, but to get it back on my card I had to go to an actual register.

At this point I just started laughing. So I trooped over to the cashier (the one who silently pointed me to the Johns) handed her my valuable piece of paper, again bent over to put on Shoshi's coat (this time I got it) and stood up to find her handing over $2 in cash! I tried questioning it, wondering why it didn't end up back on my card, but just gave up. I had a wiper blade, had wasted a good 15 or 20 minutes and just wanted to get home.

I put Shoshi in the car and tried to put it on, only to mess something up and break it.

So I put the old one on and went home.