I’m proudly wearing my “I Voted” sticker today.  Here in California, we have our propositions, at least one of which is ridiculous.  We’re also having our primaries for governor, as Arnold is headed out the door.  Iowa, Maine, South Dakota and Nevada will  be looking to put new names on the ballot for governor as well.  Appalachian Trail hiker Mark Sanford is term-limited, so our friends in South Carolina will be replacing him, too.  In total, twelve states are voting in primaries today and many of the races are worth keeping an eye on.

Arkansas Senator Blanche Lincoln, a democrat, is headed into a run-off with Bill Halter.  I don’t know either of them, but I like Blanche for having the nerve to be unpopular with banks and Wall Street.

Virginia is looking to swipe a bunch of house seats back from the Democrats in November.  Nevada is looking to do the same with Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid.

If you haven’t done so already and you live in one of the twelve states voting today in the primaries, it’s your civic duty to get out there and mark those ballots.  I won’t forgive you if you decide it doesn’t matter.

What also matters is that the little baby who was removed from my uterus in 1999, referred to here as Goldie, is turning eleven today.  She’s 5 feet 3 ½ inches tall and wears a women’s size 9 ½ shoe.  What the #%*!  Okay, it wasn’t just yesterday when I was changing her diaper, but it does kind of feel like it was only last year when I was taking her to pre-school.  At the very least, wasn’t it just a few months ago that I had to bend down to take her hand when crossing the street?  When she sat in the crook of my arm as I read her a good-night book?  When she was in a stroller and I saw mothers and tween daughters and lacked the imagination to believe Goldie would ever form words, much less have a conversation with me?  At the same time, I could never conceive of a day when we would argue.  There have been too many of those, but I love her just the same.  The relationship has evolved as all good ones do.  She’s become the kind of girl that parents enjoy being around (or that’s what they tell me), even as she often saves her darkness for me.  That’s okay.  That’s my job.  It’s also my job to celebrate with her today, even though I really don’t want her to get too much older.  I don’t want to encourage her to head towards twelve but it’ll happen anyway.

So yes, I’d like to vote today on a law that, if not stopping the passage of time, at least slows it down, except that would be cute and corny and I’ve never been accused of either.

VOTE, or don’t complain come November.  I’m off to eat a birthday doughnut.

It's also useful when taking knots out of necklaces or bracelets.

Gossip, really good, juicy, you-just-can’t-hang-on-to-it-news, is something with which few of us can be trusted.  Defined as talk of a personal, sensational or intimate nature, it is more often than not hurtful and unsubstantiated.

Then there are secrets – facts that are kept discreet and shared in confidence.  Some can protect them under lock and key and prove loyalty within a friendship, regardless of how much alcohol might be consumed by the keeper.

And then we have what I like to call errors of omission.  It’s generally an accounting term but I consider it the information people withhold from each other, not out of any loyalty to a person or thing, nor necessarily out of malice.   These are facts, ideas and details inadvertently withheld even though their disclosure would make most of our lives infinitely easier.

Case in point: getting the wind knocked out of you.  Who sits their child down and explains this might happen at some stage in his or her life?  No one.  The child goes out to play tag or touch football, or falls off their bike and slams into the curb.  Suddenly, they can’t breathe.  They’re gasping for air and think death will arrive soon.  But there’s no need for such panic.  “Ricky, you just got the wind knocked out of you.  You’re going to be fine.”

Another example: (guys, you’re not going to like this one) engorged breasts.  I came home from the hospital after having Goldie with ta-tas the size of bowling balls and just as hard.  I thought they were going to explode, literally.  What an unexpected mess.  I called my sister-in-law who gently calmed me and told me that they would not, in fact, detonate and that I should be okay in a couple of days, even though I did need to try and “express” what I could.  She suggested a warm shower.  After I got off the phone I thought, “Why the hell didn’t anyone TELL me about this?”

It would be unfair of me to belabor my point but let me explain something.  I’d been taking my babies to the beach for awhile before I was lucky enough to have my dear friend, Beth, in tow.  She had a baby of her own and as we set up shop in the back of the swagger wagon (you must watch the YouTube video) to change diapers and such before we headed home, she pulled out the baby powder.  Instead of waiting to use it after the varmints were all cleaned up, she used it TO clean up.  Baby powder wicks away sand off skin like nobody’s business.  I’d already spent a year brushing off sandy butts with a dry towel, with little success.  What Beth was doing was magic.  On toes, fingers, in between folds of skin, the sand just disappeared.  I couldn’t believe no one had ever shared this helpful hint with me before then.  Since that day, I’m amazed at how many I’ve been able to enlighten with this knowledge.  And now I have Daily Cup of Jo and it would be just wrong, absolutely unforgiveable, to keep this to myself at the beginning of the season when millions will be stepping out at the beach.  TAKE BABY POWDER.

May I propose that we all think for just a second about that moment in time when someone shared with us some tidbit that changed the way we lived our lives?  Let’s all recall that kernel of information and not keep it to ourselves.  Promise to share it with one other person, and consider including it here, in the comments.  Together, we can make our lives easier.

Stock up and freeze.

Last night, the Lakers played the Suns in the Western Conference Finals.  Outside the Staples Center in downtown Los Angeles, activists held signs protesting Arizona’s anti-immigration bill SB1070.  My husband and I discussed the difficulties presented by immigration reform and I became strident.  I knew this was going to be Tuesday’s post.  As I sat in the suite we’d been invited to, watching L.A. clobber Phoenix, I dipped my chicken wings into the bleu cheese, used ten napkins to clean myself up, and thought, “What I really want is a hot dog.”  Weird, I know.

When I woke up this morning and started my SB1070 essay, I was still thinking about that hot dog.  I wasn’t hungry and I definitely wasn’t going to start my morning with one.  But it did lead me to think about the best deal in town – Costco’s $1.50 hot dog and drink combo – and I decided to let the experts dissect and opine about Arizona for now, so I could talk to you about Costco and why it’s useful, whether you’re a party of one or a family of five.  Do you not LOVE the directions in which my mind wanders?

I didn’t shop at Costco when I was single.  When it was just the husband and I, we’d occasionally stock up for parties but not much else.  After Goldie was born, I started heading there for diapers, with the occasional case of bottled water and chicken broth purchased for good measure.  Then I had two babies who could conveniently sit side by side in Costco’s giant carts.  I’d always move slowly past the giant televisions because they all looked so pretty and I coveted one.  Eventually, we’d make our way to the butcher section in the back to load up on meat which, to this day, is my number one reason for shopping there.  Besides the hot dog, it should be your number one reason also (unless you’re a vegetarian).

I’m not an emotional, impulsive shopper.  I’ve actually been known to go to Costco for one item and leave the store having purchased just that one item.  I’m a freak.  (The same behavior at Target is much more difficult.)  The bottom line is that if you go to a Costco or a Smart & Final or a Sam’s Club and buy items you don’t need just because you may have room to store them, you’ve defeated the reason these stores exist for the consumer.  The point is to save money.  I have a few thoughts:

From trial and error and serious competition for my business at local supermarkets, I’ve found that shopping at Ralph’s for my canned tomatoes and Tide laundry soap (using a coupon and club card) costs no more, and sometimes less, than it does at Costco.  It’s often convenient to buy non-perishable items in larger quantities at these big box stores if there’s room in your pantry, but you have to give it some thought.  There’s danger to having too much of something around.

Let’s take paper towels, for example.  When we’ve purchased a bundle of 12 rolls at Costco I’ve found we use them more frequently because, heck, there’s always another one to replace it with.  Large packages of snack items are worse.  You and your family will eat more and probably discover an increase in your girth.  There’s a study out there somewhere that supports this hypothesis.  I just can’t find the damn thing.

Fruits and vegetables and giant bags of lettuce are all well and good.  Eating a lot of cherry tomatoes or broccoli spears is healthy, but unless you’re entertaining a lot of people, or have too many children, perishables will spoil before they’re all consumed.  That’s an obvious waste of money AND food.

So what do I buy there?  How do I save money and make my yearly $50 fee worth it?  I hang out in the meat department and flirt with the butchers.  I’d love to tell you all I shop at Whole Foods because they’re nice to the animals they kill to feed my family, but I can’t.  And I know if I ever watched “Food Inc.”, I’d probably become a vegan for a day or two, which is why I’ll never see it.  The meat at Costco is great.  It comes in large amounts, but if you’re single, you can take your package of 4-5 New York steaks home, put each one in a medium storage bag with some soy, brown sugar, olive oil and garlic, and stick them in the freezer.  Think ahead, give them time to thaw, and throw one on the grill or in a frying pan.  You can buy rib eye or filet mignon (tenderloin) in packages of individual steaks or as a giant piece of meat to cook whole and slice afterward.  They’ve got tri-tip, boneless short ribs; beef already cubed for stew, pot roast and brisket.  Don’t let the amount intimidate you.  You’ll get the best prices on meat packaged fresh every day.  Just divide it up when you get home and freeze.  You take out just the amount you need and you’ll find you can set yourself up for easy meals for weeks on end.

While you’re in the back of the store, pick up one of their $4.99 hot chickens for dinner, or the ribs are delicious.  I seldom leave the store without one.

Also, usually toward the back of the store is the bakery section.  You won’t find a cheaper sheet cake anywhere ($16.99-$18.99); it’s yummy and big enough for the birthday party you’re throwing for forty people.  If you ask ahead, they’ll even decorate it for you.  Check out the loaves of LaBrea Bakery bread that are usually still warm in the bag at noon.  It’s squishy and smells great, so you’ll probably have a hard time not pulling off a piece to eat while you’re checking out.  The bagels they sell are too big for my taste but the famous muffins (a dozen large for $6.49), when sliced up, are good for a last minute brunch.

For my now famous carnitas, I buy my boneless pork shoulder in about an 8 lb. bundle.  If I were to cook the whole thing, it would feed about thirty people easily and costs $20.  They sell it in portions so, again, I could pull out one or two and just feed the family of five.

I’m cheap so I buy my chicken and fish frozen.  Costco’s signature brand, Kirkland, sells terrific frozen Atlantic salmon fillets, individually wrapped inside the bag for about $18.  The bag of frozen chicken breasts costs less and will get me through a month.

Sure, there are lots of prepared, pre-cooked meals that you can pick up and stick in the oven.  I have nothing against them and have tried a few, but the prices are only okay and I’ve had better success at Trader Joe’s.  Aidell’s, though, does make a tasty little Teriyaki meatball that the girls love and is an excellent hors ‘d oeuvres that you might want to try.  The same goes for their packaged, pre-cooked sausages.  Heat them up, slice them and serve them with mustard on the side for an easy appetizer.

Jewelry, electronics, books, clothes, motor oil, Gordon Ramsey bakeware, toaster ovens and coffee makers?  I’ve rarely seen bargains that inspired me.  Beer, wine and liquor is sold in amounts conducive to a party, so buying it at Costco depends on your needs.  The pharmacy used to have the best prices in town, but Rite-Aid and CVS are matching them.  An eye-surgeon friend still thinks Costco is great for glasses and contacts (I get mine there) and their turnaround time is excellent.  By all means, if at all possible, buy your tires nowhere else!  I’ve never found a better deal for my Toyota Sienna, and they usually have a promotion going which you should check out beforehand.

Like TJ’s, avoid the weekends if you can.  It’s kind of scary.  But do go after 12:30pm when they’re bound to have plenty of samples to make a meal out of.

Costco relies on customers who spontaneously put items in their cart they simply don’t need and may never use.  Don’t be one of them.  Again, snack food, unless you’re setting up a sale at school or serving fifty people at one time, is a bad idea.  Large bricks of cheese, stacks of cold cuts, a platter of sushi?  Only if you’re having a party and only if you don’t care about impressing your guests.  Party food from Costco looks like it’s from Costco.

Okay, let me get back to working on Arizona.  And, like last week with TJ’s, do leave your personal suggestions and Costco secrets in the comments below.

And don’t forget to get a hot dog on your way out!  My friend Mary Anne fondly recalls having one with Julia Child in Santa Barbara years ago, so you know they’re good.

Just some of the many TJ items in my kitchen.

Trader Joe’s is a movement, a way of life, a local hangout.  To some, it’s a religion, a beacon of joy on an otherwise dark day, more than just a place to buy Two Buck Chuck and packaged nuts.  Trader Joe is my friend.

Growing up in Encino, California, I thought Trader Joe’s was just a little funky store where my mother bought wine for parties.  No one really talked much about the place in those days and certainly no one referred to it as TJ’s.  By the time my sister moved back to Encino as an adult in the early 1990s, I was nearby in Sherman Oaks and living as a single woman.  I became a Trader Joe’s groupie.

Back then, there were moments of sadness and frustration that my life was not heading in the direction I’d hoped.  I wasn’t meeting the right man, work felt stagnant.  If I stopped by my Trader Joe’s before heading back to my apartment after work and found a parking spot with little trouble, I sensed the evening, nee the future, just might be okay.  When I stepped into the store, chances were good I’d see a familiar face and we’d exchange pleasantries over the free sample.  I’d have a shot of coffee and then roam the aisles, maybe come upon a new item.  More often than not, I’d opt for an old standby like Chicken Gyoza which, when prepared and consumed that night with tangy dipping sauce, would comfort me like an old blanket.  Imagine my sadness then that my sister in Encino experienced none of this.

Most everyone I know, including me, assumes that part of the Trader Joe’s business model is to have parking lots so small that customers come in shifts so as not to overcrowd the store at any given time.  My shift is currently Tuesdays at 10:30am and never on weekends.  The Encino store, undoubtedly one of the first, has approximately six and a half parking spaces, so even the staggered shift system doesn’t work.  Unless you walk or take the bus, chances are you won’t be able to park unless you’re one of those hateful persons who always finds a space and has perpetual good fortune.  My sister won’t push her otherwise good luck.

The past twelve years or so have been relatively kind to me.  I met a man and we eventually settled in Studio City where, shortly after arriving, a large Vendome Liquor store converted into a Trader Joe’s.  I had three babies who I occasionally forgot to feed, so I’d pop into TJ’s and we’d head straight for the free tasting.  They tried pot roast before they had teeth and penne arrabiata before they could say, “Mom, that’s spicy!”  To this day, I credit their adventuresome palettes to Joe, the Trader.

Through the years, my friends and I have shared Trader Joe’s “finds”.  We’ve alerted each other when a favorite item is in danger of being discontinued, or a seasonal item has just come in.  During the winter holidays, my cousin and I stock up on Sea Salt Caramels.  She hoards them in her freezer and gives them as hostess gifts.  I invite her over a lot during December and January.  I’ve now lived in this area for so long and my children have attended local schools, so I try not to look my worst on Tuesdays at 10:30am because now I always see someone I know there.  Always.

My Encino sister and I have been close as adults and connect on so many levels.  Still, I’ve always sensed resentment.  She and my brother-in-law would come over for dinner and ask what the delicious dip was next to the crackers.  I’d answer “Bleu Cheese Roasted Pecan Dip from Trader Joe’s” and she’d smile a half smile and look away.  A few winters ago, they both inquired about the smooth, rich coffee I served and I told them it was the Half-Caff blend from Trader Joe’s which I’d grind myself at the store on the “espresso” setting.  I believe my brother-in-law (nominated today for a Daytime Emmy, congrats) even ventured out once or twice to get a can of his own.  But Peanut Butter Filled Pretzels, Kettle Corn, Mandarin Orange Chicken, Sun Dried Tomato Pesto, washed lettuce blends for less than $2 a bag, Chicken Sicilian Sausage, Joe-Joe’s, the ringing bell, the chalkboard signs, the Hawaiian shirts – it brought my cousin and I closer and pushed my sister and I just a little further apart.

Hallelujah Lord, that’s all changed and my sister has seen the light!  Amen and thank you!  She spends half

The TJ's parking lot in Newport Beach. Note the empty spaces on a Sunday afternoon and the ocean view in the distance.

her time now at the house they own near Newport Beach.  On Pacific Coast Highway, between Corona del Mar and Laguna, a Trader Joe’s opened last year with a large parking lot overlooking the ocean.  My sister hasn’t stopped talking about it.  When friends come to visit for the first time, she takes them to TJ’s and then to the beach.  Her Orange County kitchen is now loaded with TJ snacks and staples.  I sense her level of culinary confidence has risen and our relationship is stronger than ever.

Trader Joe’s website includes some great recipes using their products.  I like to sear roast some chicken breasts and then pour their Curry Simmer Sauce over (dry goods) and serve with the Chimchurri Rice (frozen section) and Naan (also in frozen section) for a spicy Indian/Peruvian meal.  I’ll steam some Chicken Shu Mai (frozen) to go with the Mandarin Orange Chicken (frozen), and serve with touch-of-salt Edamame in a shell (frozen) and broccoli spears (refrigerated produce).  I always make my white chicken chili with TJ’s canned White Kidney Beans because they’re only 89¢ each.  My PB and J sandwiches are made strictly with the Raspberry Preserves made with Fresh Raspberries (in a jar, usually near the bread section) and for my “Orzo with almost everything” recipe, I use their White Balsamic Vinegar which I originally couldn’t find anywhere else.

Other than good paper products, my friend Christie swears she finds everything she needs at Trader Joe’s.  She also lives a block away from the one in Toluca Lake (location, location, location).  Don’t grow your own basil?  TJ’s sells a package of the stuff large enough to make a cup of pesto for less than $2.  The large majority of what they sell at TJ’s has no preservatives; you can feel good about your purchases.  Their list of gluten-free items just keeps growing, so my celiac-diseased friends are very, very grateful.  And get this.  They’re not paying me to say anything.  Clearly, I need to work on my own business model

If you haven’t seen Carl’s Fine Films “If I Made a Commercial for Trader Joe’s”, by all means, click here and take a look.  Very funny.

Trader Joe’s opened its first store (under that name) in South Pasadena in 1967 and now has locations in 26 states (and counting).  If you don’t live near one, it’s time to move.  If you’re a groupie like me, please leave your TJ comments and suggestions below so that all of us may enjoy your discoveries.

Tomorrow: strata using Trader Joe’s ingredients

Dan Wasserman, Boston Globe.

Non-renewable resources are those that cannot be produced, regenerated or reused on a scale that can sustain its consumption rate.  The supply of these resources is usually finite, unless you live to be about a thousand or perhaps a million years old, at which point, they may appear again naturally.

I don’t know about you but I love a challenge.  Also, I sort of like feeling “in control”.  I also adore fresh air and blue skies (as opposed to hazy) and the feeling that, if nothing else, I’ve done my part.  If only everyone else would.

Yesterday, I hinted that there are men and women who have died so that I might drive my car too much and heat my house.  This realization hit me like a ton of bricks on Sunday when I saw Dan Wasserman’s editorial cartoon reprinted in the New York Times.  (And which I’ve included here, I’m sure illegally, so go ahead and click on Dan’s name, so you can see the rest of his stuff at the Boston Globe and maybe they won’t be mad at me.  Thanks for the link, Anne.)

The federal government finally approved the development of the first offshore wind farm near Nantucket in Massachusetts.  Those who live there (hello, the Kennedys of Hyannis Port) didn’t appreciate the idea of the resulting eyesore and had their own environmental concerns.  It’s complicated and not nearly the slam-dunk we’d like to believe.  What is certain is that if we reduce our NEED, our USAGE of energy, be it derived from coal, oil, natural gas or uranium, we’ve done something other than complain about a bunch of windmills soiling our ocean views.  Perhaps someday, our coal miners can get jobs harvesting the sun, outdoors, instead of risking their lives in dark, dangerous underground places.

Ed Begley Jr. is the celebrity poster child for walking the environmentally conscious walk.  The man has a wind turbine at his house, and rides a stationary bike to create and store energy for his solar electric system.  Intimidating?  Not really.  He’d talk to you first about light bulbs, just like I’m going to, because he understands a basic tenet of human nature.  We all have to start somewhere and we’re more comfortable if that somewhere is small and easy.

In the words of Marian Wright Edelman:

“If you don’t like the way the world is, you change it.  You have an obligation to change it.  You just do it one step at a time.”

I went to Lowe’s this morning and picked up six fluorescent bulbs to replace some existing incandescents in our house.  You know what I love about these little guys?  You never have to change them.  They never burn out.  (Okay, not never, but I haven’t changed s single one in the years since I started using them.)  Watch this treacly YouTube video, This Bulb, for some facts on the power of the CFL.

I usually do my grocery shopping on Mondays but make it a point to forget things so I can go back.  Why?  I don’t know.  It’s weird.  I’m weird.  I’m pretty good about remembering my reusable bags (those plastic ones are bad, bad, bad) but I kind of negate this righteous gesture with the gas I use going back and forth.  I mentioned earlier, I like a challenge.  This Monday, with the menu for the coming week settled and a clear inventory of what’s needed in the house (toilet paper is very popular among us Neils), I’m heading out, stocking up, and committing to NOT going back until the following Monday.  I challenge you to do the same on whatever day of the week you usually find yourself in the aisles of the supermarket.

And that’s it.  Those are my two gestures for now.  In the future, I hope to generate less trash, plant more trees in my side yard and cover the pool every day during the summer so the water doesn’t evaporate and we don’t have to use the heater ($$$).  But for today, I’ve replaced a few bulbs, and I’ve put Dan Wasserman’s cartoon on my fridge to remind myself how much those bulbs might matter in the big picture.

Mine disasters.  Oil spills.  Seriously, change the damn light bulb.

Tomorrow: I’m going to talk to Wendy about happiness