Buying in bulk will get us through coronavirus (and we might have enough for the next pandemic, too) – NJ.com

I believe there are two types of people in every successful relationship: Those who bring stuff into the house, and those who drag stuff out of it.

Now, I guess it is theoretically possible to have two “outers” or two “inners” united in a happy partnership. But, in the first scenario, I see a stark, empty (glorious!) home, while with the latter, I see a cramped, cluttered (awful!) life that will lead the couple down a road that ends with their children ratting them out on a cable TV show.

So you know where I stand in our relationship. I am the one who takes things out. I clean the basement. I empty the uneaten leftovers from the fridge. I might, in a decluttering frenzy, put the dog into a green garbage bag if she doesn’t keep moving.

My wife? Not so much.

These are typical conversations in our household of extremes:

ME: I’m going to throw away this teddy bear I found in the back of a closet. It looks like a mouse has chewed off its eyes.

HER: Wait!! That was a gift for our daughter’s third birthday!

And …

ME: I’m tossing these old photos. We NEVER look at them.

HER: Uh … that’s our wedding album.

I’m sure half of the people reading this think I’m right, and half think I’m crazy. But now, after two months in quarantine, I believe the coronavirus has declared a winner between the outers and the inners — and, clearly, it’s not my people.

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We reached a point when accumulating necessities became an important, or even essential, way to survive our quarantines. And I must accept that my wife Nancy is an online-shopping ninja who has saved us from the stressful hell that is grocery shopping during this — and, in all likelihood, has changed how we will shop forever.

I will admit to some skepticism when she discovered Baldor Specialty Foods, a Bronx-based specialty foods company that exclusively had delivered bulk to restaurants and businesses before the pandemic, was offering home delivery.

She ordered apples, and the box was so big, I estimated that if I ate one a day I could keep the doctor away until I turned 137. When we opened the box with 19 pounds of chicken thighs, it looked like a Purdue processing plant had exploded inside our kitchen.

But a funny thing happened: We changed our habits. We froze those thighs in several packages and routinely pulled them to use for dinner, whereas in the days BP (before pandemic), meat had about the same chances of reemerging from the basement freezer as it did magically regenerating and flying out the window.

This all takes time and planning, and I can’t take any credit for that. Nancy handles it. After years of schlepping to the ShopRite two or three times a week, I haven’t stepped foot in a grocery store in a month and a half.

“I don’t know what normal looks like,” Ben Walker, vice president of sales and marketing for Baldor, said when I asked him if this was the new normal for the industry. “I think it’s going to take years for the restaurant industry to get back to where we were. The path to recovery is very long.”

Baldor, a wholesaler that usually delivers its food on pallets, pivoted its business model in 48 hours. The company received 20 orders on the first day its website allowed deliveries to homes. Soon, it had almost 2,000.

That has declined as people feel more comfortable returning to their routines and stopped the panic shopping that emptied the shelves in March and April. Not everyone, of course, has the space or cash to buy 50 pounds of flour (yes, that’s available) or wants to stock the fridge with large quantities of duck pastrami (also available).

Baldor tried to adjust so families could buy a single loaf of bread, and not enough to feed all of Essex County, but a $200 limit on orders remains. Walker said business is still off about 30 percent for the company, and while Baldor will never abandon its central business serving restaurants, it plans to keep serving homes “as long as the demand calls for it.”

As a consumer, there are drawbacks. We bought 25 pears that all came ripe at the same day and ended up throwing away half of them. Turns out, if you have five pounds of bacon delivered to your house, you’re going to find excuses to eat a lot more bacon. If bacon turns out to prevent COVID-19, I’m the safest man in New Jersey.

Mostly, though, it’s hard to imagine going back. Having the food dropped off on the front porch is convenient, so long as you’re willing to freeze it and then use it. Our latest shipment came this week, and the person responsible for bringing stuff into our house left the person in charge of dragging it out with one question:

Anybody want an apple?

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Steve Politi may be reached at spoliti@njadvancemedia.com. Tell us your coronavirus story or send a tip here.