I went grocery shopping tonight (very exciting Saturday evening doings over here in GriotLand, let me tell you! And also, we’ve got another storm coming in tomorrow, so putting if off would just be annoying). I spent a ridiculous amount of time wandering up and down the aisles after I’d gotten all but one of the items on my list: cheesecloth. I asked a young woman employee if the store carried cheesecloth, and she sent me down aisle 1o, “Or maybe on the back wall above the meat department? Yeah, maybe that’s the best place to look.” Off I went, though I had looked both in aisle 10 and along the back wall above the meat department twice already. And on that 3rd pass, I still didn’t find what I was looking for. So I gave up and got on line.
But then an older woman got on line behind me. She looked like someone who would actually know what cheesecloth was — the young woman employee had done that sweet, head-cocked-to-the-side-in-confusion thing when I’d asked her, and I’d had to give her a more detailed explanation. So I asked my line companion, and she suggested aisle 11.
I walked down aisle 11 saying “cheesecloth” in a little sing-song way over and over in my head …
You see, last week I made paneer for the first time. It was a bit of a fail — too loose, too crumbly — and I decided that part of the reason for the fail was that I’d used one of my flour sack towels to strain it and not cheesecloth. Because my cotton towel would be just fine, right? And who has cheesecloth, anyway? Right.
Tonight, as I walked down aisle 11 singing my little cheesecloth song, I had a fabulously comical, head-slap-worthy moment of clarity: Oh! It’s called “cheesecloth” because people use it for making cheese!
My stunningly un-clever epiphany aside, my check-out line friend saved the day. In among the mops and handi-wipes was … CHEESECLOTH!!
(Paneer, Round 2, coming soon to a kitchen near me.)
And we’re off! Today is the first day of the 7th Annual Slice of Life Story Challenge! stop over at Ruth and Stacey’s to join the fun!