What My Grocery List Says About Me

Every Sunday night, I scribble out a grocery list. It usually starts on the back of a bill, a receipt, or a child’s doodled masterpiece—whatever paper I can grab first. It’s never tidy. But it’s honest.

As I make that list, I can see the rhythms of our life showing up in ink: yogurt for my daughter who insists on pink spoons, the brand of rice my husband swears tastes better, lemons because I put them on everything, and always, always eggs.

There are weeks I try to be ambitious—add lentils, try a new grain, buy a spice I can’t pronounce. But most of the time, I come back to what I know. What we eat when we’re tired. What fills the house with warmth.

Turns out, your grocery list says a lot about you. What comforts you. What you believe is worth eating again and again. What kind of meals you want your kids to remember.

My Staples Say Stability

Some ingredients never leave the list: eggs, butter, onions, rice, garlic. These are my grounding ingredients. With these, I can cook almost anything—simple, nourishing, real.

I grew up in a house where food was predictable in the best way. You knew dinner was coming. You knew what it might taste like. These staples are my way of offering that same comfort to my family.

Even when everything else feels scattered, I can pull dinner together with these basics. They’re my kitchen security blanket.

The Quirky Add-Ons

Then there are the oddball items that always make their way in: tahini, two kinds of mustard, pickled jalapeños, and the fancy crackers only I eat. They don’t belong to a meal plan. They belong to me.

These are the little luxuries that make cooking feel like play again. They remind me that food isn’t just fuel—it’s curiosity, creativity, joy.

Sometimes those tiny things—the chili crisp, the chocolate chips, the bunch of herbs I didn’t plan for—are what turn a simple weeknight meal into something memorable.

Reflecting Our Family Rhythms

When I look at our list, I see our week: snack items for lunchboxes, frozen dumplings for quick dinners, bananas that will get too ripe, and bread that will disappear too fast.

Some weeks I notice more greens—maybe because I felt like we needed it. Other weeks, it’s extra cereal and fruit because everyone’s in a breakfast-for-dinner mood.

The list is less about meals and more about moments. School mornings, family nights, solo lunches, that late-night toast I always sneak after the kids are asleep.

The Cooking Habits It Reveals

My list tells the truth about how I cook: minimalist but intentional. I don’t buy much that won’t get used in at least three different ways.

I buy chicken thighs, not breasts. I always buy fresh herbs. I skip premade sauces but stock four vinegars. I can’t go a week without lemons, garlic, or ginger. I use my freezer more than my microwave.

It tells you I like real food, but I’m not fussy. I like flavor over flash. And I like cooking that works around my life, not the other way around.

What I’ve Learned from the List

Your grocery list evolves with you. When I had babies, it was all snacks and freezer waffles. When I was freelancing and alone at home, it was soups, bread, and simple greens. Now it’s a little bit of everything.

It’s not a plan. It’s a portrait. A reflection of the season we’re in—busy, tired, hopeful, curious.

And no matter how many times I try to go fully digital, I always come back to the paper version. I like to cross things off. I like to doodle in the margins.

It’s imperfect, like our meals. But it’s real.

Final Thoughts

What shows up on your grocery list without fail? What can’t you cook without, and what’s that one odd item that’s always just for you?

Mine includes peanut butter, sharp cheddar, rice noodles, and lemon zest in a jar. Not because I always use them—but because they remind me of what I like, and how I care.

In the end, the list is less about what we need, and more about who we are when we gather around the table. What does your list say about you?