And I thought LARD was a common ingredient

August 10th, 2006

I love to cook and bake. And my neighbor comes knocking about once a month, looking for a homemade pie. I’ve always shortcutted my pie crust, and eager to get back to flaky delicacy, I set off to buy some Lard. You know, rendered pigs fat.

Lard is a key ingredient in a great pie crust. But it seems it’s not something that’s purchased regularly in Miami. The local Publix store only sells lard they trim themselves, and I’m told there’s a few pounds put out every morning. Always missing the deadline, I head off in the other direction, to Winn-Dixie.

Now, I’ve always complained (nay, whined) about living in an area with such a language barrier. I’m from New York, I took French in high-school (they didn’t even offer Spanish), yet I’m living among Latinos. In fact, I’m the fairest skinned gal in my neighborhood.

I was prepared for the challenge - simply asking a stocker where I might find this ever-so-important ingredient. Nearly 5 minutes later, I was standing in the refrigerated foods section, in the center of a circle. I was surrounded by 8 Latinos - all Winn Dixie employees. Normally I’d just huff a few words and take off, but I appreciated that these folks were actually trying to help me (and that’s a rarity in just about any business these days). I went so far as to write the word L-A-R-D on a piece of paper one older employee handed to me. “Please, write it down,” he requested. I did, and they still had no clue…

Another five minutes passes, and I’m exhausted of all possible explanations… “Um, southern fried chicken, um, grits, um, the best black grandmothers use it all the time.” Oh no, I just stereo-typed (okay, I felt bad, but it is true; I spent many years in neighborhoods surrounded by black kitchens and had dinner with plenty of blacks in the south, and yes, all their pantry’s carry this fine ingredient). Well, as soon as they heard this, they summoned another employee. Actually, they ran for him.

So, I’m standing there and here comes this 6-foot-something, well built black gentleman. He hears the employees say in unison, “Lard.” He just shrugs, walks down an aisle, shoves aside some cannisters of Crisco, and pulls out a box.

So, I’ve got it, and it’s thanks to NINE people. (I’ll note that not one of the shoppers knew what it was either).

Then I hear a lady gasp, “Oh, Manteca!” And I’m thinking, well, yeah, that’s the brand. Then another gentleman explains, “this is manteca de cerdo - that’s what you say next time.”

I smile, say thank you, and walk away thinking, you gotta love these stores. You see, one thing I refuse is to learn a language to communicate in America. Sorry, that’s just a principle.

I used to have the problem with the employees, until Bill O’Reilly set me straight - it’s actually the employer. See, if I had asked for manteca de cerdo, I would have been hoofing it back home in no time. Then I pull the box out of the bag, and I see, in large, red block type, LARD. So I’m thinking, hang on, they stock the shelves, do they not know the product?

Upon further inquiries I find that they know the product, but only by it’s “subname” on the box, and sure enough, there it sets in green: manteca de cerdo. And the brand is Manteca.

So, now I know what lard is in Spanish. I wonder when that would ever again come up in conversation…

 

Entry Filed under: Rants & Raves, Things I've Learned