Food For Thought; Thoughts On Food

I've been thinking about food a lot recently. Not necessarily about specific recipes and meals but rather about how food is produced, how and where we buy our food and what it all means. Food is one of life's necessities that everyone, regardless of where we live, our race or socio-economic status, individual likes or dislikes, needs to survive. Some people have an abundance of food while others regularly go hungry. Some people live to eat while others eat to live. Simply put, food is something we all need and rely upon for our survival. Because of this food should be the great equalizer but sadly, it is not. Rather attitudes towards food and access to food are often the issues that divide us the most.

The topic in my French class for the past few weeks has been food. In learning the words for various types of food, we've been discussing how and where to shop for items both locally and in our home countries. Half of my class if comprised of Americans with the other half hailing from a mix of European countries. Although I was already aware of this on some level, it was quickly reaffirmed that so many Europeans shop for their food in local markets whereas us Americans tend to rely on supermarkets and big box stores for our daily nourishment. Urban areas can be food deserts and community markets, filled with organic produce are much more sporadic and difficult to find, are often located in more affluent neighborhoods and have prices that put the freshest of fruits and vegetables out of reach for many consumers. I'm a huge fan of the farm share trend but the often significant financial layout required to "buy in" to them at the beginning of the season makes them cost prohibitive for many American families. Class conversations quickly made it apparent that the differences between food resourcing in America and in Europe and what and how we eat are as far apart as the ocean that separates us.

Above all, as humans we seem to be creatures of habit. We crave the familiar and seek it out. More often than not we want, no demand, convenience. This probably explains why so many American military families posted overseas actively seek out their military commissaries (a.k.a. grocery stores stocked with all of the conveniences and foods from home) for a little piece of well traveled, overly processed comfort food from home. It is familiar, it is comfortable and it is how we most likely shopped and ate back home. If we grew up in households where convenience foods were the norm odds are we live the same was as adults. If we grew up eating fresh vegetables instead of canned, enjoyed home cooked meals eaten around the dinner table and had sugary snacks were kept at a minimum, we are probably recreating that lifestyle in our own homes. If our parents cooked we are more likely to cook ourselves. Perhaps this is why eating and shopping local remains the norm in Europe since the tradition of village markets, local farms and family dinner being events for all ages are the norm rather than a trend. This may be a broad sweeping statement on my part but I in my experience, access to quality food is less of a class issue in Europe than it is in America. I  feel as though quality food for people from all walks of live is valued much more in Europe than it is in America. I love that about Europe and it makes me feel a bit sad about America.

And that brings me to where I am now. Shopping "like a European" is a habit that I have fallen in love with and am increasingly practicing in my own household. With two different expansive markets held in my neighborhood each week and others held in neighboring towns daily, shopping at these local markets is the easiest food option for me. And as I sit here and type this, I have homemade pizza dough rising for tonight's dinner. The flour and yeast were purchased at my local Belgian supermarket but the toppings--fresh cheese, locally made sausage, fresh artichokes, tomatoes and herbs--were all purchased at my local market. For the most part I know where my food came from--here in Belgium as well as neighboring France and the Netherlands. It is local and fresh and minimally processed. And this is how my family eats on most days. The source of  my food is important to me and regardless of where I am living, I will go out of my way to buy from fresh and local sources.

But all of my food choices are clearly ones of class and privilege. I have the means, both financially and time wise, to decide where and how I will shop. I can afford to shop for locally grown organic produce, which here in Europe is often cheaper than mass produced and imported items. And because I am currently living in Europe all of this great quality food is literally sitting at my doorstep. I am also quite positive that once we are back in America we will continue to shop and eat the way we do now. If that means trekking out to a farm to buy organic milk or buying into a farm share each spring, it is something that I will do.

The Size Of Your Footprint

After three years away, we're back in the U.S. of A. for a month. And the first thing I've noticed has been how big everything is. From the highways and the cars that speed down them to hotels and hotel rooms and even the people themselves, everything is simply so much bigger than it is in Europe. One could argue that it is because there is so much more space in America. But it all makes me wonder; is bigger really better? And more important, is it really necessary?

In our jet lagged haze, when we went to up our mid sized car at the airport, the saleswoman up-sized us to a much larger vehicle. (In my defense I had taken Sidney to the restroom and missed this transaction). When I saw the vehicle, I was immediately taken aback at how big it was. It was huge compared to the majority of cars we see on Europe's roads and would have a hard time driving down many of the narrow streets that we have grown accustomed to. It would never have fit into our parking garage back in Belgium. Yet sadly we aren't nearly the largest car on the Interstate being dwarfed not only by tractor trailers (that we are used to because in Europe they are the same size) but by even larger family sized mini vans and SUVs that could easily haul small armies. Back in Belgium, the only people driving vehicles this large are other Americans (and there are usually large scratches running the length of these vehicles since their size just isn't conducive to European roadways). European family cars are more practical sedans or compact station wagons that seem to work just fine. One could argue that the cost of fuel is a driving factor. With the cost of one gallon of unleaded gas hovering around $3.70 in the Washington D.C. area, the cost is three times as much in Belgium so it would make sense that Belgians drive smaller cars. But what about Americans in Belgium, and other parts of Europe? Are we simply willing to shell out a lot of money for fuel in exchange for driving that big car? I've heard people say that they must have all of the space so they are comfortable and have enough space to be in the car without touching one another. Maybe because I only have one child I don't get it but I remember road trips as a child where we were all squished into a vehicle and we did just fine. I guess times have simply changed.

But it isn't just American cars, it is everything. Houses are huge, filling sprawling suburbs with McMansions that could house entire extended families but are intended so a couple and their children. Not only does every household member require their own sleeping quarters but they must also have their own recreational space as well. Hotel rooms here are so much larger than their foreign counterparts with the bathrooms alone being the size of many hotel rooms. Do we really require that much space when we travel? And don't even get me started on the portions of food that are served in restaurants. From super-sized drinks and fries in fast food restaurants to overflowing platters in more formal dining establishments, the amount of food being served is simply overwhelming (and likely contributes to the size of Americans). Grocery stores are sprawling filled with what I now find to be overwhelming choices. Is a choice of thirty different soaps really required? Or a freezer case that spans several aisles? I guess if you are all about convenience foods you do need that much space. But pre-packaged foods produce more consumer waste. In European communities where you pay more for each bag of non-recyclable trash you put on the curb, it is practically a badge of honor to put as little as possible in front of your house on trash day. American houses are easy to spot because of their mounds of trash sitting on the curb.

Yes, everything is feeling just so big to me and I'm finding myself wanting less space, smaller meals and a more compact environment.

But is America and the American lifestyle simply bigger because it can be? Maybe it can be at the moment but is this over the top excess sustainable over the long haul? And again I ask whether it is even necessary?

Hoarding No More

I developed an ugly habit while we were in Albania. Hoarding. Yes, hoarding; the compulsion to accumulate as much of an item as possible because I feared not having any. For me, food and other household consumables were my compulsion, or more specifically a well stocked pantry filled with everything and anything I could even need to cook a meal. By my own admission, the pantry was well stocked and shocked more than a few people who witnessed it. "Why do you need so much stuff?" was the most common question I was repeatedly asked by visitors. I found it hard to explain the why. But in my defense, despite what others said, I came by this habit honestly.

So why did I hoard? Simply put because there were so many items that I just could not buy in Albania. Or if I could buy them locally their quality was substandard compared to what I was used to. But I knew this before we even arrived in the country. That didn't mean I feared our starving while there; rather if we were going to continue to cook and eat the way we enjoyed, I was going to have to find many of my ingredients elsewhere. (If items met certain size and consistency parameters I could buy them online then wait weeks for them desired item to arrive through our mail system). And that is what I did. I spent the weeks before our departure scouring the aisles of the local grocery stores buying every item I thought I would need over the next two years. Sugars, flours and speciality baking items were purchased by the case. The same held true for favored sauces and must have condiments. Anything that derived from either Asian or Mexican cuisine was shipped in as well. But the items went beyond food stuffs. Ziploc bags and trash bags --items that either couldn't be found or whose poor quality essentially rendered them useless-- were like gold and rationed out slowly over the course of our time there. One tube of toothpaste wasn't enough; two dozen might cut it. The same went for saline solution for my contacts, shampoos, conditioners, preferred soaps, and the list just goes on. Fortunately our Albanian house had a huge pantry which, much to our housekeeper's horror, we immediately filled with case upon case of imported products. Standing back and looking at our impressive stash of items I felt comforted knowing that we wouldn't run out of an item. Ironically enough, the most of the stash lasted us through our entire tour with my only having to give away a few illogically purchased items.....a case of A-1 Steak Sauce anyone? I'm really not sure what I was thinking when I made that purchase!

But oh how times have changed. Here in Belgium I now have ready access to just about any ingredient I could ever need. If I can't find it on the local shelves I can order it online and it will arrive in my mailbox in approximately one week. And for old time's sake as I finish unpacking I am finding stashes of items that I had long forgotten about--six bottles of a favorite shampoo felt like Christmas. But more importantly I now have what I consider to be the world's smallest pantry. With only a few shelves I simply no longer have the room to buy multiples of everything. But then again, there isn't the need to buy in bulk. Whereas I never ran out of anything in Albania on occasion, here I am finding myself out of an item here making me rue the fact I didn't buy a second container.  Although it is surfacing with less frequency, on trips to the grocery store I do still find myself loading my cart with multiples of the same items before pausing then removing all but one of them. Its taking me a while to break this habit but out of sheer necessity I am. And do you know what....if feels good.

Customer (Dis)Service

                              "Dear Zosia- Thank you for shopping with Macy's. Your order has
                              been cancelled. Please click here to shop."

Ummmm.......hello? What exactly does this mean? This is the email I received in response to a recent online order I placed with Macy's. In a single sentence they managed to thank me for shopping, informed me that they cancelled the said order but invited me to shop with them again. How would I do this and more so, why would I want to?

Unfortunately, I wasn't all that surprised when I received this message since I have received similar ones from other United States based retailers in the past. This is a pesky, all too frequent problem for those of us who live overseas but choose (or want) to shop from American retailers. Many, but not all, large retailers refuse to ship items to US based mailing addresses when the originating IPO is foreign. (Ironically, many of these same retailers will ship directly to a foreign country but if I was to go this route I would spend more on shipping and taxes than the cost of the original purchase). When I called the "toll free" number to rectify the situation (Actually, I made Glenn do it since I was so frustrated by the whole ordeal) I was told that these are simply security precautions and I can always call them directly to place an order. This is a nice option and all but these "free" numbers are by no means free when dialed from overseas.

Yes, I could purchase a devise that would give me a default US based IPO but why should I have to? I have money and want to spend it yet these companies make it so difficult to do so. I know this is totally a first world problem but it irritates me none the less. The potential customers who are the most effected by these policies are the military and other Americans who are living and working overseas. Because of this, I am doubly bothered by the fact that many of these same companies profess to being "military friendly". It sounds like a good tag line but if they truly were, wouldn't they make it easier for military families to shop?

I am by no mans solely blaming Macy's for this policy. Two years ago I had a similar problem with the NFL.com website and there are yet other companies I refuse to do business with because of their cumbersome policies. I actually engaged NFL.com in a back and forth conversation over their policy and while they refused to budge, they did offer me a generous gift certificate to use for future shopping on their site. While that could be viewed as a nice gesture, it was useless to me since I still couldn't shop online from my overseas address. And since there are many online businesses that are willing and able to do business with those of us living overseas, it can be done.

Over the past few years I've learned which retailers are easy to shop from and which ones make it an ordeal. For the most part I've learned to avoid those that won't allow me to online shop from the comfort of my own home, those that won't ship to APO addresses or charges extra to do so. But every once in a while I find myself in the conundrum of really wanting an item that is sold by a particular retailer. As was the recent case with Macy's I was shopping for replacement dishware and found dishes I liked, on sale for buy one set get one set free, at Macy's. So I placed my order and hoped for the best. And my order got rejected. I debated just looking elsewhere but I had looked elsewhere and hadn't seen anything I liked as much. And these dishes were on sale. Reluctantly we went ahead and placed an order via the telephone and my new Fiestaware in on its way. I'd like to say I won't shop from Macy's again but I won't say never. I will say that I will think twice about doing it and in the meantime hope that they, and other businesses with similar policies, rethink what it really means to be military friendly.

(Consumer) Culture Shock

I remember the first time I stepped foot in an Albanian grocery store. Looking around me I felt overwhelmed and out of my element as I didn't recognize any of the items I saw. At first glance the shelves were filled with a variety of items with foreign labels written in Italian, Greek, and sometimes Albanian. Items were not organized the same way they were in American stores leaving me wandering aimlessly through the aisles unable to find what I was looking for. At first I wasn't sure whether the item was simply unavailable in Albania, I was searching in the wrong place, or I was looking right at it and not recognizing it. After awhile, by looking closely at items, thanks to pictures, I was eventually able to figure out what was inside of most cans and jars but I still erred every once in awhile. I remember thinking I was buying capers and once they were added to my chicken piccata discovering that they were actually green peppercorns. Oops! Over time, however, my comfort level at Albanian shopping grew to the point where I knew what was located where and what was available, meaning on a good day I could be in and out of the store in a matter of minutes.  I learned to love the products that were available and became incredibly innovative in making substitutions when needed. And then we moved...............

I'll admit, here in Belgium, I'm once again feeling a bit overwhelmed about stepping foot in a grocery store. After living in a second world country, the choices available to me are stymieing me from the moment I grab my shopping carriage. Because we are now located in close proximity to an American military base, I now have regular access to commissaries. For the unfamiliar, commissaries are essentially military grocery stores that sell American grocery products. Regardless of where you are in the world, whether you are in Virginia, San Diego, Japan or yes, Belgium, the store layouts are the same and you can buy your Oscar Meyer Bacon, Old El Paso Taco shells and Bounty paper towels. (It is like having a little piece of America in your shopping cart). Stepping into the commissary for the first  time I felt like I was immediately transported back to  northernVirginia. But I was overwhelmed just the same. I was simply not used to having so many options.

By the time we left Albania many of the most popular American brands were available in the stores. Heinz ketchup lined the shelves and it even came in a "spicy" version which wasn't all that spicy. Coke was always available but the European version was made with sugar rather than corn syrup, which produced a drink with a totally different flavor. Pringles were readily available in every store in Albania but the flavors were different and limited. Sidney's favorite in Albania were called "spicy" which in reality was a red pepper flavor. Here the choices are endless; while not including red pepper you can even buy pecan pie and guacamole or one of many other varieties. Who knew?  Looking for an easy dinner option, I selected boxed pasta and Barilla sauce from the shelf. First, the number of brands available to me was overwhelming. While the pasta tasted the same as the Albanian version, the sauce, one that I regularly bought in Albania, was different. Despite being the same brand, what was in my jar was sweeter and thicker than what I had bought in Albania. Looking closely at the label I saw that my Italian Barilla pasta sauce had been imported from the United States. I suddenly found myself longing for my European sauce. And rice for risotto, my go-to meal? None could be found on the shelves but I could have bought ten different varieties of instant or quick cooking white rice. But some of the differences in products were wonderful. My name brand paper towels purchased from the commissary were soft and absorbent rather than the flimsy yet stiff paper products I had grown accustomed to. My hands actually felt soft rather than shriveled and dry after washing a sink full of dishes with my American dish detergent. These are a few of the "luxuries" I had been missing.

But my options don't end there. In addition to the American commissary, there is a whole variety of European grocery stores in Belgium. The most prevalent appears to be Carrefour, a French grocery chain that also established a small footprint in Albania during our final year there. But all Carrefour stores are not created equal. I know stores cater to their market and in that respect I suppose that the Albanian Carrefour stores meet the needs of their clientele. In fact, the items they carried were not all that different from those sold in the other grocery store chain in Albania. Choices were limited but somehow it seemed to work. But Belgian Carrefour stores? They are a whole other beast that are

overwhelming in their own (good) way. Looking for cheese? Forget one aisle, there are several. Do you want crackers to accompany your cheese? There is an entire aisle of different varieties dedicated to just this. In Albania you might find an entire aisle of crackers but they were all the same saltine-style cracker. Juice? With the exception of the red orange juice that Sidney loves, this Carrefour has every variety imaginable. And yes, there are American brands as well. In addition to European brands, the cereal aisle is filled with Kellogg's varieties that again, I never knew existed. Need to fulfill your Mexican cravings? You have choices here too. And the options just go on and on.

Honestly, at the moment I feel as though I have too many choices. While I still love certain American products, I've grown used to shopping in local markets and for the most part, buying European products. (For all you bakers out there, those gourmet European butters that cost an arm and a leg in America are everyday inexpensive here!). Even in the midst of my cultural shocked daze, I'm realizing that I now have the best of both worlds. I can buy the American products I love (cleaning and paper products) and the European brands I've grown to prefer all while discovering items unique to Belgium. Once I recover from my initial shock, this is going to be fun. And if history holds true, I'll soon be in and out of these stores in a matter of minutes as well.........or maybe not since I do have a lot of options.

Last Chance

Tis the season of sales......or so it would seem judging by the traffic in my email in box recently.  Advertising emails have apparently replaced old fashioned paper junk mail but the intent is the same.  It seems as though not a minute or two can go by without a new offer for a must-have, last minute item appearing before me on my computer screen. From sweaters and mass produced jewelry to electronics and snow blowers, it is all on sale "for today only".  Really? I've lost track of the number of final offers that reappear under the headlines of "sale extended" the next day.  And of course everyone is offering free shipping with a guaranteed delivery by Christmas Day. Maybe I am too cynical but it seems as though mass consumerism has taken over the holidays with no celebration being complete without a towering pile of wrapped, but unneeded items sitting under the tree.  Do we really need more stuff?

 

And now it is Christmas Eve and I once again woke to find my inbox filled with more promotions for even more last minute deals.  I suppose with Christmas itself being mere hours away the end is in sight (but I'm also receiving post Christmas sale notices now).  I know I am a planner but how is it that with Christmas sales starting in November and stores opening on Thanksgiving Day, that people are still shopping at the last minute.  Are their gift giving lists that big, do they simply procrastinate, or are they holding out hope for an even bigger and better last minute deal?  Who are these shoppers anyway and more importantly, who are they buying these special gifts for?

 

Perhaps it is physical distance from the American holiday shopping chaos that is allowing me to be so cynical.  I haven't stepped foot in an American shopping mall in years and have only ventured into the Albanian ones a handful of times under complete duress.  Relying on a restrictive mail system that can take any where from two to six weeks to deliver packages from the US to Albania means that any online shopping I planned on doing had to be completed long before the Thanksgiving / Black Friday shopping frenzy.  So attention Target, Gap, Williams Sonoma, Amazon, and everyone else who has been spamming my inbox with deals, these offers are totally lost on me.  While I have yet to wrap the few gifts we exchange, they were purchased and received months ago.  That means that instead of taking part in the feeding frenzy we've been decorating our house, baking holiday goodies, and spending time together as a family.  And that is what this season should be about.

 

Merry Christmas everyone!

I Love A Parade

Albania is a country whose people are obsessed with their vehicles.  Perhaps this obsession is the result of their fifty years of self imposed isolationism where the Communist regime banned all privately owned vehicles.  As is the case with most things Albanian, firm statistics are difficult to come by but most sources agree that until 1991, there were only between 5,000 and 7,000 cars in the entire country.  With so few cars, roads were all but non-existent with narrow dirt packed lanes being the norm.  After the fall of Communism in 1991 the ban on private vehicles was lifted resulting in upwards of 1,500 vehicles being imported into the country on a monthly basis.  (Again, this statistic varies with some people arguing that the numbers are in fact much higher).  In a country roughly the size of the state of Maryland with a population of just over 3 million people, that is a whole lot of cars.  Whatever the root cause for this vehicle obsession, today the country's roads are clogged with so many cars that driving in urban areas is an unusually stressful and congested affair.

So Albania has a lot of cars but they aren't just any type of cars.  Yes, you see a smattering of the usual Fiats, Opels, and other compact cars that the mainstay of  European countries.  (With narrow roads, limited parking, and fuel prices higher in Europe than in the United States, practical Europeans tend to eschew the American style super-sized SUV.  Compact cars are the family vehicle with people learning to make do with less space). But once again, Albania appears to be the exception to the European norm.  Increasingly I am seeing larger and fancier vehicles, from luxury sports cars to super-sized, tricked out SUVs barreling along Albania's narrow roadways.  As noted by the New York Times over ten years ago, Mercedes have been a popular Albanian choice for over two decades.  These German made cars are sturdy and early model sedans can regularly be seen transporting families, pulling trailers laden with household goods, serving as driver's education vehicles, and yes, even hauling livestock in their back seats.  But these older Mercedes work horses are being outnumbered by newer and fancier models.  Top of the line models share the road way with Porsche, BMWs, and Bentleys as well as Lamborghinis and Masaeratis.  (And I'm not talking just one or two of the later category).  Just yesterday, as I stood in front of the Sheraton Hotel waiting for Glenn to pick me up (in our battered Honda CRV), I saw four of these five makes of vehicles parade by me.  (The Maserati was missing but I did see one a few blocks away later in the evening).  As yesterday attests to, one can see more luxury vehicles in less than one hour in Albania than you can in a week's worth of travel through western European countries.

I suppose I should clarify my earlier statement about Albania being a country obsessed with vehicles.  Rather, they are a country whose people are not only obsessed with luxury vehicles but they actually drive them.  (This is in juxtaposition to a recent Washingtonian Magazine survey where these cars were listed as dream vehicles by DC's movers and shakers who relied on their more pedestrian Hondas, Toyotas, and Subarus for their daily commutes).  Not too shabby in a country whose Gross Domestic Product ranks it 86th in the world just ahead of sub-Saharan African countries and last in Europe.  The country may be poor but they sure do drive fancy cars.

Confessions Of A Recovering Shoe-A-holic

I am a recovering shoe addict.  There I said it.  I say recovering since, while I still absolutely adore shoes, they don't excite me the way they used to. Perhaps my love of shoes is a direct rebellion against my anti-fashion mother because the minute I had any disposable income I started buying shoes.  Sky-high heels or ballet flats, it didn't matter.  As long as they were cute they were the shoe for me.  From an early age I've always noticed what other people are wearing on their feet and right or wrong, quickly pass judgement on what I see.  As someone who firmly believes that athletic shoes should only be worn when actually performing an athletic activity, I am quick to notice whether or not the shoes match the occasion.  A cocktail dress is ruined if it isn't paired with an appropriately dressy pair of shoes.  Scuffed shoes closed with Velcro strips do nothing for a man wearing a suit.  I often feel as though people forget to look down once they are dressed and throw on whatever pair of shoes they have available.  Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

In my single days I thought nothing of dropping a large chunk of change for the perfect shoes.  After all, what else did I have to spend my money on?  The higher the heels, the more unusual in design, generally the more impractical the better was my motto.  While I loved a good sale if I saw the perfect pair I would buy them immediately.  As so many young adults do, I moved often in my twenties and my number one priority in selecting a new home was the availability of space to store my shoes.  I needed shelves.  Because I always kept the shoes stacked in their original boxes--label side out of course-- I found myself continually on a quest to find the perfect storage space to accommodate my ever expanding collection.  Yes, I turned down more than one otherwise perfectly acceptable apartment because the storage space was utterly inadequate.

When I met Glenn I was simultaneously horrified yet pleased with what I saw.  The man only owned a couple of pairs of shoes and bragged that he hadn't bought any in several years.  (In fact, with the exception of a pair of running shoes I bought and shipped to him while he was deployed, we had been married for five years before he even bought himself a new pair of shoes).  However, he never wore sneakers unless exercising and in true military fashion, his shoes were always shined to perfect precision.  That my friends, is a good thing.  And when we agreed to move in together he ceded three quarters of his closet space for my shoes.  I was in love. Of course as I got organized in anticipation of the big move, I realized that I owned over two hundred pairs of shoes.  Gulp.  That was bad. It was one thing to look at my extravagant collection and receive occasional complements on my footwear but it was another thing to have someone else looking at the wall of boxes every day.  As hard as it was I did what I had to and did my first major purge of my shoe collection. Out went 120 pairs--many in pristine condition---donated to charity and I moved with a respectable (???) 80 pairs.  My mother knew it was serious since I had never met anyone before who inspired me to get rid of my precious shoes.

Fast forward a few years.  Still in the workforce, undergoing a very long deployment all alone, and working within proximity of the largest mall with the best selection of shoe stores in Hampton Roads, my number of shoes gradually crept up.  When Glenn returned from deployment he looked quizzically at the stacks of shoe boxes in the closet but said nothing.  Instead he set about designing an enlarged master bedroom suite with a walk in closet that would accommodate my shoes (and his as well).  But then I got pregnant and a sad thing happened.  With my pregnancy came bloating and swelling that made it impossible for me to wear any of my shoes.  Under duress (and pain) I dutifully went to Nordstrom's where I purchased a pair of black Dansko clogs. They were ugly but I hate it admit it, comfortable and I found myself wearing them exclusively for the remaining months of my pregnancy and beyond.

Much to my dismay, when I returned to the point of wanting to wear cute shoes again, none of them fit. Yes, in the course of my pregnancy my foot had increased by half a shoe size making all but a handful of my beautiful shoes unwearable.  I was horrified but continued to try to squeeze into them on occasion while those Dansko clogs became my staples.  I could have replaced some of them but a collection that has been amassed over many years is not easily replaced.  Besides, with a child, I had other things to be spending our money on.  Unable to part with them I moved them all overseas with us and stacked them in piles in our wardrobes.  Every once in a while I would break them out for a reception only to regret it later.  Not only were they horribly uncomfortable but walking in heels on Albania's broken streets and sidewalks means taking your life into your own hands. Desperate for comfort and practicality I discovered Clarks, a good old European shoe that was study enough to withstand Albania (and the rest of Europe's) rough-on-shoes surfaces.  The shoes aren't sexy or cute but they work for my current lifestyle.  (If my twenty year old self could see me now, she would simply die).

As we prepare to move again, into a house that will be much smaller than what we have now, I made an important decision.  I was going to truly purge my shoes once again (and then some).  Anything that didn't fit, wasn't comfortable, or I hadn't worn since we arrived in Albania would be donated.  So last night while my boys were out I steeled myself with a glass of wine and set to work.  Unceremoniously I went through all four of my wardrobes and discarded shoes that I had forgotten I had even owned.  As I opened the boxes I peered at footwear that I didn't even remember buying, couldn't imagine having bought, or looked at lovingly.  It was hard but I did it.  In the end over fifty pairs of shoes left the house last night.  Will I miss them?  Probably not.  I'm sure at some point in the future I will be looking for that pair that perfectly matches a dress and wonder where they went.  I know that when it comes time to move I will not have to endure the mutters of astonishment from the movers. (Yes, it doesn't matter what language you speak Mr. Mover, I know you are passing judgement on the number of my shoes).

I still love shoes and am horrified that my son only wants to wear sneakers with everything but I know that my shoe phase is behind me.  It was fun while it lasted but now my middle aged feet are thanking me for finally realizing the wisdom that comes with wearing sensible footwear.  They may not be the sexy sky-high heels of my twenties but they are the perfectly appropriate--and comfortable-- footwear that makes this temporarily living in Europe mom's feet happy.

Black Friday and Cyber Monday Craziness

One of the few things that makes me embarrassed to be an American is the chaotic mob scenes and feeding frenzy that surround Black Friday.  Forget the mass consumerism aspect of what the holidays have become; it is the actual shopping madness that turns me off the most.  While most of the world was waking up, heading to work for the last day of the week, and going about their everyday business, millions of Americans were standing in line, braving crowds, and in some cases storming stores in order to score what they deemed was a great deal.  Why does the idea of buying an item, that you probably don't need in the first place, at a reduced price, drive us to join in the feeding frenzy? From stories of young children being left alone in cold vehicles while adults shop to women engaging in fist fights and guns being pulled on fellow bargain hunters, reports of these behaviors is down right humiliating.  And let us not forget the Walmart employee who was trampled to death by a crowd of over eager shoppers a few years ago.  Really?  For a Walmart item?  What on earth does Walmart sell that is so special that it causes a stampede?  Every year news reports show footage of people camping out in front of big box electronics stores so that they can get their hands on  that year's "must have" item.  Is a 51 inch flat screen television worth it?  Is receiving a free sample size of lotion because you were one of the first one hundred people to enter the store worth staying up all night?

I love a good deal just as much as the next person (maybe more) but I just don't see the attraction of this shopping frenzy.  Maybe I am jaded from my early post-college years when I worked in retail.  My Thanksgivings were never spent with family since I had to work at crack 'o dawn on Friday morning.  (I guess I should be grateful that this was in the days before stores decided to open on Thursday night).  Perhaps it is having seen the deal seeking crowds first hand that was enough to turn me off from the shopping craze.  I once had a boyfriend whose mother was a Black Friday shopping fanatic.  She would go to bed early on Thanksgiving evening so she could be the first one in the stores in the morning.  She developed her shopping strategy around who was giving away freebies at which hour and usually came home with a variety of useless items whose only appropriate use were the office white elephant party.

The Internet age has ushered in the online equivalent of the Friday shopping spectacle:  Cyber Monday.  Much like its end of the week counterpart, this is the day where great Internet deals are supposed to abound.  Maybe this is a calmer, more civilized way of shopping; I have no idea since it all takes place behind closed doors with no witnesses if you get in a fist fight with your spouse over who gets control the computer.  The irony of it all is that, like Black Friday's sales that actually begin on Thanksgiving evening, many of Cyber Monday's steals began on Saturday.   And how many of these deals are really deals?  Many of these so-called deals that keep popping up in my in-box offer no more of a savings than those that were appearing last week or even last month.  My response to each new offer is to promptly click delete but I'm probably in the minority on this since 52% of shoppers are planning on completing their holiday shopping online this year.  But will they all be shopping on Cyber Monday? Or will they be holding out for a better deal?

I recently had a conversation with several international friends about what it means to be American and what others think of as America.  It saddened me to hear that some of the first responses involved shopping malls, miles of highways, and Oprah.  Really? Italy has great food, Paris has the Eiffel Tower and the United States has Walmart?  What does that say about our country and our culture?  How do we break this stereo-type?  Images of brawling bargain hunters buying mass quantities of cheap Chinese produced merchandise certainly isn't the answer.  Maybe I need to just accept America for what it is:  the land of the free and the home of the brave and mass consumerism.