Tales from the suburban grocery store
Reliving "the fish stick incident" just now reminded me...
Probably the most difficult thing about going from living in the center of downtown to the center of suburban sprawl has been the change in grocery stores. I used to live within walking distance of the original Whole Foods. The bounty of high quality goods was almost overwhelming: fresh, organic produce; meat from grain-fed, free-range animals; the season's freshest catch of fish; a variety of kiosks where chefs use ingredients from all over the world to whip up made-to-order cuisine. All this just a five-minute stroll up the street.
I am now a five-minute drive away from my suburban HEB grocery store, the bounty of which is, umm, 7-11-esque. I have to drive about 15 miles out of my way these days to get even the simplest yuppie basics like steel-cut oats or bulk nuts (Vatican canonization committee, do you hear this?) The one redeeming quality is the extensive photo center where I often drop off CDs full of pictures to be printed while I shop.
To my horror, I walked in today to see that the photo center is being torn down. What was going on here? My mind raced. I assumed the worst: some renegade department manager stocked some tofu or wheat-free unsprouted grain bread, and the confusion and chaos that ensued caused a backlash. The photo section was to be torn down to install a Hawaiian Punch fountain and a Pop Tart wall. Room was being made for the forthcoming HotPockets Tasting Station. The produce section would be replaced with cans of fruit cocktail.
I dashed up to the nearest person in a red employee's shirt and demanded to know what's going on here. Her confused, frightened response was my first clue that she was not an employee. After tracking down a real employee I learned, to my great delight, that my fears were unfounded. The photo center is being replaced with a veritable fantasy-land for an "I think I'm an epicurean because I watch the Food Channel" suburban housewife like myself: an expanded cheese selection, bulk foods, a grilling station, and more! They're even giving away weekly $100 shopping sprees to kick it all off. (Although I should note that whoever labeled that $100 prize a "spree" is clearly single. In our house I might be able to spree through the produce section with that amount of money. But nice thought.)
Anyway, there may be a downside to all of these changes. Many a time while flipping through my Food and Wine cookbook I've lamented in the general direction of whoever was nearby that I too would dish up Chane Ki Tarkaari for dinner if our HEB [sigh] only stocked amchoor. Be careful what you wish for.
Probably the most difficult thing about going from living in the center of downtown to the center of suburban sprawl has been the change in grocery stores. I used to live within walking distance of the original Whole Foods. The bounty of high quality goods was almost overwhelming: fresh, organic produce; meat from grain-fed, free-range animals; the season's freshest catch of fish; a variety of kiosks where chefs use ingredients from all over the world to whip up made-to-order cuisine. All this just a five-minute stroll up the street.
I am now a five-minute drive away from my suburban HEB grocery store, the bounty of which is, umm, 7-11-esque. I have to drive about 15 miles out of my way these days to get even the simplest yuppie basics like steel-cut oats or bulk nuts (Vatican canonization committee, do you hear this?) The one redeeming quality is the extensive photo center where I often drop off CDs full of pictures to be printed while I shop.
To my horror, I walked in today to see that the photo center is being torn down. What was going on here? My mind raced. I assumed the worst: some renegade department manager stocked some tofu or wheat-free unsprouted grain bread, and the confusion and chaos that ensued caused a backlash. The photo section was to be torn down to install a Hawaiian Punch fountain and a Pop Tart wall. Room was being made for the forthcoming HotPockets Tasting Station. The produce section would be replaced with cans of fruit cocktail.
I dashed up to the nearest person in a red employee's shirt and demanded to know what's going on here. Her confused, frightened response was my first clue that she was not an employee. After tracking down a real employee I learned, to my great delight, that my fears were unfounded. The photo center is being replaced with a veritable fantasy-land for an "I think I'm an epicurean because I watch the Food Channel" suburban housewife like myself: an expanded cheese selection, bulk foods, a grilling station, and more! They're even giving away weekly $100 shopping sprees to kick it all off. (Although I should note that whoever labeled that $100 prize a "spree" is clearly single. In our house I might be able to spree through the produce section with that amount of money. But nice thought.)
Anyway, there may be a downside to all of these changes. Many a time while flipping through my Food and Wine cookbook I've lamented in the general direction of whoever was nearby that I too would dish up Chane Ki Tarkaari for dinner if our HEB [sigh] only stocked amchoor. Be careful what you wish for.
2 Comments:
I'm sorry, I'm new to this blog and may not be reading correctly...
Is the woman who just made "Fish On a Log" (composed of genuine CheezWhiz!) complaining about the lack of free-range this and organic that?
I'm pretty sure the HEB (as well as the Kroger/Albertsons that is the same distance away from you) can meet your needs...
Dan
Dan-
I think you missed the tone.
She's making fun of herself in this post. It's all tongue in cheek.
- "an "I think I'm an epicurean because I watch the Food Channel" suburban housewife like myself"
- "I too would dish up Chane Ki Tarkaari for dinner if our HEB [sigh] only stocked amchoor"
- "I dashed up to the nearest person in a red employee's shirt and demanded to know what's going on here. Her confused, frightened response was my first clue that she was not an employee."
- "(Vatican canonization committee, do you hear this?)"
These are jokes.
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