Some people see grocery shopping as a routine chore.

I no longer do.

Over the years, I have come to realise that where we shop, what we buy, and the habits we build around food may quietly shape how we live and how we age. What looks ordinary on the surface may actually reveal something much deeper about our knowledge, our discipline, our lifestyle, and even our future health.

For me and my family, grocery shopping is not just about filling the fridge. It is part of our routine, part of our bonding, and part of the way we care for ourselves. Whether it is NTUC FairPrice, Sheng Siong, Cold Storage, Giant, Little Farms, Huber’s or the wet market, we still prefer to go in person. We seldom do online grocery shopping because we believe there is still something meaningful about seeing, touching, comparing, and choosing for ourselves.

Perhaps that is why grocery shopping has become more than an errand to me.

It has become a quiet lesson in living.

My family and I have always loved food. We enjoy buffets too, from Marina Bay Sands, Hilton, Hyatt, Ritz-Carlton, St Regis, Parkroyal, Conrad, Paradox, InterContinental, Grand Copthrone and Shangri-La to more familiar places like Swensen’s. We have enjoyed the variety, the atmosphere, and the beauty of seeing so many cultures of taste brought together in one place.

I am blessed to have good cooks in our family, and even some close friends who are wonderful cooks too. Food has never just been about eating. It has been about warmth, care, sharing, hospitality, memory, and love.

I have always loved spicy food, especially Peranakan flavours, as well as Mediterranean and Italian cuisine. But over time, I have noticed a change in myself. Today, I naturally turn more towards vegetarian choices, more greens, and more fruits than before. These are now the foods I increasingly prefer. Perhaps age teaches us that enjoyment and wisdom do not have to compete. They can grow together.

And over time, I have also come to see food differently.

Beyond the indulgence, a buffet reminds me that every dish begins somewhere. Behind every beautiful spread is the same foundation: ingredients, groceries, preparation, and choices. Before food becomes presentation, flavour, and enjoyment, it begins quietly in the market, in the supermarket aisle, and in the hands of someone deciding what to bring home.

That thought stayed with me.

If we love to eat, perhaps we should also learn to choose wisely. Perhaps we should build the habit of buying better, cooking more, and understanding more deeply what goes into our bodies. Eating out is part of life, and there is joy in it. But I have also seen enough to know that when health begins to change, food is no longer only about taste.

One important lesson I have learnt from nutritionists and dietitians is the value of reading nutritional information and ingredients properly. It is not enough to look only at the front of a package or be attracted by branding and marketing. We need to understand what is really going into the stomach and, over time, into the body.

Sugar levels, sodium, fats, additives, preservatives, and ingredient lists all matter more than many people realise. The label at the back often tells a more truthful story than the words at the front.

That awareness has changed the way I look at food.

It has taught me that what we eat is not just about filling hunger. It is about understanding what we are feeding our body with, what we are asking our digestive system to process, and what kind of long-term support or burden we may be creating for ourselves.

For many facing health struggles, food must be viewed through another lens. It becomes about comfort, tolerance, digestion, inflammation, energy, and support. A person may still want to enjoy food, but now has to ask harder questions. Can I take this? Will this worsen my condition? Is this nourishing me, or only satisfying me for a moment?

That is where awareness begins.

I have met enough people facing health challenges to know that the freedom to eat easily should never be taken for granted. Some can no longer tolerate the foods they once loved. Some must avoid certain textures. Some must reduce sugar, salt, oil, processed foods, or certain ingredients altogether. Some discover that even a simple meal now requires careful thought.

That is why I have come to respect food differently.

The more I observe, the more I feel that active ageing is not built only through exercise, movement, and health screenings. It is also built quietly, one grocery trip at a time.

One particular encounter stayed with me.

We were standing in the aisle, comparing pasta sauces and looking through the different options, when a voice from behind suddenly said, “Barilla is the best.”

We turned around and met a friendly and eloquent lady who shared that she had worked on a cookbook for Mrs Lee. She spoke with the calm confidence of someone who truly understood food, not in a loud or showy way, but with the ease of someone deeply familiar with ingredients, flavour, and quality. She even pointed us towards a canned item that was not easily found elsewhere.

It was such a simple exchange, but it stayed with me.

Sometimes, the supermarket becomes more than a place of transaction. It becomes a place where knowledge is shared, where taste is refined, and where unexpected human encounters leave a quiet but lasting impression.

That day reminded me once again that grocery shopping is not a small thing.

It is part of how people live.

It is part of memory.

It is part of culture.

It is part of health.

It is part of ageing well.

When I look at the foods I am drawn to now, ginger, avocados, bananas, strawberries, pineapples, olive oil, simple sauces, and ingredients that allow us to prepare meals at home, I realise I am not just choosing what to eat for today. I am also choosing the kind of support I want to give my body over time.

This does not mean life must become rigid or joyless. It does not mean we can never enjoy a buffet, never eat out, or never indulge in what we love. It simply means that with age and experience, we begin to see that our repeated choices matter more than we think.

Health is rarely shaped in one dramatic moment.

It is shaped quietly, repeatedly, and often invisibly, in what we buy, what we cook, what we ignore, what we learn, and what we normalise over the years.

That is why I believe a person’s knowledge, perception, and lifestyle may influence much about their later health. The one who only chases taste may one day be forced to chase tolerance. The one who learns balance earlier may perhaps stand a better chance of ageing with greater strength, dignity, and awareness.

As I grow older, and as I continue meeting people from all walks of life, I find myself looking at the supermarket differently.

It is no longer just a place to shop.

It is a place of observation.

A place of choice.

A place of discipline.

A place of culture.

A place of reflection.

And perhaps, for many of us, it is also one of the places where active ageing quietly begins.

From buffet tables to supermarket aisles, I have come to believe that the roots of health often begin with what we choose to bring home.