So the forecast for most of this Memorial Day weekend was rain. Not pool weather, can’t do much in the garden. Last night was a steady drizzle and mist. Not exactly the stuff of backyard barbecues.
But I did get to cook, and I did get to trudge down the stairs into the basement and once again tap into one of my more cherished possessions, a twenty-plus gallon container of peanut oil. This has almost attained a ceremonial aspect for me--to be clear, though, I don’t sit and stare at it. I just celebrate the fact when I need to draw from it, it’s there, like an urn of sacred oil.
Because buying peanut oil at retail is really expensive. But it’s by far the best oil for cooking Indian food, which I love to make.
Sometime maybe three years ago I’m strolling through the (insert generic name here) supermarket when I see this huge plastic container filled with some mysterious clear substance in the “we’re trying to throw this out—please buy it” aisle. It doesn’t even have a label on it. Looks like it came
from some industrial kitchen.
It was among a shelf of “clearance” items no one really wants or needs, like boxes of obscure candy or strange spices or salad dressing mix that you’d never dream of buying at the regular price. No one wants this stuff-that’s why it’s on the clearance rack. If it doesn’t get sold at that point, my guess is that it gets tossed.
So I’m looking at this big vat of peanut oil in amazement and the tumblers in my head start spinning. Peanut oil is a little like cocaine. In bulk it’s not terribly expensive, but when retailers start selling it in small quantities the price goes way up.This stuff sells to restaurants for about 20 dollars a gallon, but about seven or eight bucks for a twelve ounce bottle on the shelves (go ahead, check it out!).
I’m looking for a price or a UPC code but there isn’t one. It’s just sitting there, like a mysterious cache of liquid gold, with no price on it.
So I walk up to the store manager. He’s not used to bargaining for food items—this is America, not Turkey or Morocco. But today was different. He’s charged to get rid of this stuff. How much did he want, I asked.
He told me to name my price. Heh. That’s when I knew I had him.
I said I’d give him ten bucks, a grin spreading invisibly under my poker face.
He took fifteen. So I walked out lugging at least 150 dollars worth of peanut oil (retail) that I have used for the past three years. It’s hermetically sealed and does not go bad. I use it at least twice a week—a couple tablespoons here, a half cup there. It may not make a difference to some people but if you cook a lot you can definitely tell the difference between peanut oil and ordinary vegetable used for frying. I think the fact that it was bought at such a bargain adds to the allure, if not the flavor itself.
Everyone likes getting a serious bargain for something. Some bargains are just bargains, but some cause you to walk away in amazement. It does happen. So, the purpose of tonight’s Diary is to see whether anyone else has an amazing bargain story.
Just something to do on a rainy night...