Allow me to speak figuratively. The ‘snake’ refers to sickness and, this week, I’m feeling two types: one a sore throat and the other, oh, is nasty – buyer’s remorse. It centers around a helpless chicken. A chicken that left me $17.30 lighter in the wallet. I came down with a scratchy throat on Tuesday, and, allowing the sickness to decide a meal, had a hankering for chicken noodle soup, like my mom makes. So, I set out for a place that is growing to be one of my favorites in Boston’s South End (I won’t give the name because I don’t want to give the wrong impression that they overcharge for chickens. The shop supplies poultry, meats, produce from farmers who practice sustainable, humane methods of raising animals and tending the land). For that reason alone, I like the shop. But along with that comes more expensive prices compared to supermarkets. One grocer had whole chickens going for $1.59 per pound. I paid around $4.50 per pound for my chicken. So I’m left with a chicken that will go into a pot, with water, two bay leaves and later, pieces of carrot, onion and celery, for tonight’s chicken noodle soup with good ol’ Jiffy corn muffins. A man at the store suggested I roast the chicken, but my throat is in the mood for soup. Tyler Florence’s blog has a recipe for bone-in, skin-on chicken breasts roasted with lemon and herbs with smashed broccoli and garlic.
Thus, Thursday afternoon and into the evening, the thought, “I spent too much on myself,” haunted me. Well, giving some soup to roommates could soothe the guilt. But buyer’s remorse has hit before. I paid $10.50 for a quart of vanilla ice cream in August at one ice cream retailer. So what do I see Thursday in a supermarket ad? One company sells their ice cream (in 48- to 56-ounce containers) for $1.99. I called another ice cream retailer in town and a quart there sells for $9.50. I guess that is what you pay for premium ice cream, premium chicken, premium anything.
It comes down to cost and conscious. Do you sleep better at night knowing you paid a little more but have a chicken in the refrigrator that was allowed to run free, or paid less, but have a chicken cooped-up alongisde other chickens in a pen similar to travelers on a crammed Boston subway train?
While I like buying produce procured from local farms and fair-trade coffee, I’ll take spending less. Spending more causes guilt. But it’s ironic since most of the money I spend revolves around food (excluding bills). And, perhaps this is self-centric because the buyer’s remorse only affects me whereas how I spend money says a lot about what I support, a topic for another discussion. For this instance, it’s a process of learning to make budget-conscious choices. It took ice cream and chicken to reveal that I am a slave, somewhat to money, which is not a good thing.
Buyer’s remorse is like a nagging sore throat that strikes on occasion. To answer both sicknesses, there’s the key step: praying to God for healing. Then comes a little help from a chicken, pot of water, carrots, onions, celery.
