Love song for Trader Joe's

Trader Joe's opened in New York a year or two ago and Ive been having a torrid love affair with it ever since.

Like any relationship, at first I saw only the good: vegetables, chicken, peanut butter, and other staples are cheaper at Trader Joe's than anywhere else I've been in Manhattan. Trader Joe's' bottled curry sauce is pretty similar to mine, but it doesn't take half a day to make like mine does. Crystallized ginger (hitherto a rare treat) abounds at low prices, and they do a chocolate-covered English toffee that would make my dentist shudder but which makes my blood sugar sing. The long lines were nothing in comparison; the employees are friendly, and the lines are structured to move fast. I went down there once every two weeks, gaily filling up my basket with all kinds of things I never ordinarily buy for myself.

Gradually, the honeymoon ended and reality set in. I denied it for as long as I could, but after a few months it was clear: thanks to Trader Joe's, I was spending more money on groceries than I did shopping in my neighborhood.

Even more ominously, thanks to an overabundance of English toffee, crystallized ginger, blueberry scones, and organic convenience foods, my pants were starting to get distressingly tight.

After that, nothing Trader Joe's could do was right in my eyes. The long lines were starting to annoy me. The crowds reminded me of howler monkeys on crack. The employees were friendly, but commenting on everything I bought as they rang it up was a little too friendly for my liking. More than once, I thought about leaving Trader Joe's and going back to giving my all to the much more expensive neighborhood shops.

There was something about Trader Joe's that I just couldn't let go, though. Knowing Trader Joe's as well as I did at that point, I decided that I had the information I needed to work through our problems. I took a pen and paper and started to scribble out some thoughts, and here's what I came up with:

I'm spending too much damn money at Trader Joe's
That was really the heart of the problem. The other issues were petty annoyances that burst into full-blown aggravation because of this core truth. As a result, I decided that my plan of attack should be to figure out how to cut back my spending without giving up TJ's altogether.

With that approach in mind, I pulled together a few ground rules for our relationship:

1. If I don't buy it at other places, I don't buy it at Trader Joe's
I really enjoy scones and toffee and ginger, but I have a serious and ongoing sugar jones. As a result, I know full well that I can't keep sweets in the house. That meant striking toffee, ginger, and scones off of my shopping list. I don't buy convenience foods at other places, so I decided that I'd better not do it there either.

This all-or-nothing approach proved to be too draconian, so I modified it to the following:

1. For food I wouldn't buy elsewhere, stick to preset limits
These limits are: one convenience food (pizza or burritos) and one sweet (one packet of ginger or one package of toffee). That's proven to be satisfying without exposing myself to too many additional calories and too much excess sugar.

2. Plan ahead
I make a shopping list and stick to it. While I only plan meals a week or so in advance, I have a good idea of what I use consistently. That makes planning shopping easier.

3. Limit visits
Absence makes the heart grow fonder. For me and Trader Joe's, that means buying staples in bulk, often in fours. Chicken breasts work out to $2/pound, so I usually buy four 2.5 pound bags. Peanut butter is $1.69 a jar for the natural unsalted stuff, so I buy four jars at a shot. High-fiber bread is $2.29 a loaf, and I can usually cram four into the freezer at any given time. On the occasions I buy three-buck Chuck wine, I buy somewhere between three or four bottles or a full case (which is interesting to transport home by subway). I also buy bulk vegetables as they fit into the week's meal plan. It means a fairly big bite per visit at the checkout stand, but it also means only one trip every six to eight weeks, which is a huge savings in both money and time.

4. Go early
I usually get there by 9:30 or 10:00, when it's less of a zoo. That makes it easier to stick to my plan without getting rattled.

5. Not everything at Trader Joe's is a better deal
It's a little surprising, but true: there is a better selection of produce at the shops in my neighborhood, and I can often get a better deal there as a result. I remind myself of this frequently while buzzing through the aisles at TJ's.

These ground rules are pretty basic, but they've really helped me get a handle on my relationship with Trader Joe's. We continue to have our ups and downs from time to time, but I've gotten to a point where I can focus on the positive and let go of the negative while staying true to my own needs and priorities. We've reached a point, Trader Joe's and I, where on the whole we're good for each other, and that's a good place to be in a relationship.

I think this one is going to last.