My Lust Affair with Joe…Trader Joe
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I never thought a relationship could be fulfilling and destructive at the same time until I stumbled across an addiction for which there seems to be no cure. We met on the busy Santa Monica Blvd. in L.A. a few years back and have been inseparable ever since. Joe, with his international flavors, pushes all the right buttons with the precision of a Thai masseuse.
He had me at Panna Cotta: A Silky Smooth Italian Dessert. “Ciao, bella,” beckoned a deep, velvety voice from the third aisle. My palate did a cartwheel as I peeked at the mouth-watering package to my left. He looked rich, sweet, and oh-so-bad for me – in a word, irresistible. The pros-and-cons discussion in my head was brief, needless to say, before I took the Italian home…and did he deliver! I moaned, I groaned, the works. But as most one night stands go, I felt guilty afterwards.
He’s a player, that Joe.
After a brief hiatus, I was back for more. This time, Joe dressed as a desert wanderer, clad in armor that read Mediterranean Hummus. He was a smooth-talker with a thick, Israeli accent – I ate it all up.
Each time I paid a visit, there was a new international treat waiting for me. From England’s Blackthorn Cider to Switzerland’s Toblerone, it was an ongoing affair. Joe was on my mind more often than I’d like to admit. He was a source of my comfort, my moments of pleasure, even my sense of adventure. I became a junkie.
I now understand why Joe had (and continues to have) such an effect on me. I love choices and exploring cultures, be it through food, and “he” provides both. The small aisles, like narrow streets in Italy, and the free samples that change from day to day consume me in bliss that’s reminiscent of travel euphoria. The feeling of freedom and excitement that comes with trying a new appetizer or dessert is like a mini-vacation that doesn’t require any PTO.
Oh, Joe. He knows all too well that the way to a girl’s heart is through her stomach.
Photo Courtesy: Google Images