Grocery store shopping is decidedly a real hobby.  Let me tell you why.

Some may tell you grocery store shopping is a chore — you have to do it, so it can’t be a hobby. Don’t listen to those naysayers. For some, the grocery store is not a site of obligation, but a playground for excitement, curiosity and technical mastery.

But first, what constitutes a hobby? According to Utah State University, a hobby is an activity you do voluntarily in your leisure that brings you pleasure and you find meaningful.

People have had hobbies for centuries. From the practice of numismatics, or coin collecting in Ancient Egypt to hobby horse racing today, the things we do while off the clock do not have to add nutritional value to our lives. Rather, they feed our souls. 

According to a report in Issues of Mental Health Nursing, hobbies help us in a few facets: “depression, anxiety and stress; quality of life and well-being; and social interaction and support.” Hobbies can bring some calm during solitude or bring people together through a shared affinity for a not-so-trivial interest.

So, what qualifies grocery store shopping as a hobby? For me, it meets three criteria: meaning, mastery and an exorbitant amount of passion. 

Meaning

I didn’t choose grocery store shopping the way other kids pick a sport or an instrument; grocery store shopping chose me. On a recent trip to my grandparents’ house in California, I realized my aptitude in the aisles was inherited.

My family’s daily routine is built around the market, regardless of how full our fridges are. We start the day with two laps around Costco to get our steps in, usually ending up with a 24-pack of coconut water. 

From there, we trek to specialty stores like 99 Ranch, Mitsuwa or Wholesome Choice, depending on my grandmother’s dinner menu. On Saturday mornings, we hit the local farmers’ market for overpriced Californian produce, passing the same vendors who once saw me being pushed around in a stroller.

As a kid, grocery store trips were family trips. Even when traveling, our first point of cultural connection was the local grocery store. Whether it’s a Maruetsu or Monoprix, we would always head to the store before even checking into our hotel.

In these moments of routine, I find a deep sense of calm. I’m touched by wandering the aisles, spotting the specific products only my grandmother would buy and finding reminders of my family’s various loves and allergies on the shelves.

Mastery

I’ve put in my 10,000 hours. Like any hobbyist, I’ve developed specialized knowledge. I can spot a deal (and know which days of the week are best to shop), identify perfectly ripe fruit most of the time and navigate a floor plan without ever asking for help. The grocery store is always there for me, and sometimes it even passes me a love note: S-A-L-E.

Passion

If you had asked my fourth grade self what my dream job was, I would have said “cashier.” The most prized toy in my collection, which my sister and I bought at the ages 11 and 13, was an electronic register that scanned mini plastic groceries. I aspired to not just be a shopper, but also part of the grocery store magic itself.

Today, that love remains innate. Even while living on my own, I find myself visiting a different store every day for just one or two items. After a big test or a stressful afternoon, I run to the store. I scan every row, reading labels as a form of meditation. I might carry a bag of chocolate-covered almonds for three aisles before realizing I actually wanted the cherries. The beauty is, I can go back. I can always go back. 

For many, grocery store shopping is a chore. For me, it’s a passion. And so allow me to say: grocery store shopping is, decidedly, a hobby.

Zoe Chao is a Medill junior and author of “Undecided.” She can be contacted at [email protected]. If you would like to respond publicly to this op-ed, send a Letter to the Editor to [email protected]. The views expressed in this piece do not necessarily reflect the views of all staff members of The Daily Northwestern.