“Once, years ago, I was in a supermarket, and they had only these giant heads of broccoli,” she said while standing in the produce department of the Whole Foods P Street. “I broke off one stalk and took it to the cashier, who told me I had to pay for the whole head. I was humiliated.”
No more. As she writes in her new book, “The Pleasures of Cooking for One” (Knopf), these days Jones fearlessly asks supermarket butchers to open packages of two pork tenderloins and sell her just the one.
The one thing I do like about getting older is my ability to pull more shit like this, shrug my shoulders like my Yiddishe grandmother used to do, and apologize for holding up the checkout line for 5 minutes. Embracing one’s destiny, etc.
