I joined the meal delivery service movement yesterday. I’m feeling guilty. I wouldn’t have, but a $40 coupon pushed me over the line.
Why HelloFresh? Let’s start with my internal dialog and why not:
I am an eight minute drive in two directions from four grocery stores that sell anything from indulgent gourmet dishes-to-go to vegan, raw, non-GMO, antibiotic-free, chia-seeded wholesome goodness. Really? You can’t get your sorry self to one of a plethora of groceries to buy your own ingredients? Well, I can. But I am feeling uninspired. I need a little help to move beyond my cooking comfort zone.
So…your shelves of cookbooks, your magazine subscriptions, Rachel Ray on the internet and the Allrecipes app on your phone, and you lack inspiration? Let’s be honest. Inspiration takes about 3 minutes to gin up. Ingredients, on the other hand, take 40 minutes to gather, an hour if you visit with five people at Heinen’s. Stash the goods, pull out the pots and pans, and it’s 7:30. I’m tired! OK?
You know, when you’ve hit the culinary wall before, JW has suggested you take all the great recipes you’ve mastered over the years, create an ingredients list, log these into a spreadsheet and companion calendar and work a rotation for planning, shopping and meal prep. To which I say: Never. Happening. Here. I refuse to be the model of wifery efficiency that your mama was. (Even if sometimes we both wish I were.) I have to find my muse to cook. Nothing musing about a spreadsheet.
OK, let me get this straight. You’re asking a large corporation and delivery men…in trucks…burning fossil fuels… to bring to your door that which you promised, decades ago, you could pull off with one hand behind your back (no doubt tying apron strings). Seems wasteful on so many fronts and a breach of contract. As for that, I sing…I never promised you an Ina Garten.
So, yes. I admit it. I signed up for HelloFresh. My first three meals will arrive on my doorstep next Tuesday. Wanna come over? We can order a pizza.