I have a penchant for grocery stores. I find them fascinating and endlessly worth exploring. Size doesn't matter but cleanliness, friendly staff, and quality products entice me inside. I frequent food markets when I travel and visit local outlets multiple times a week.
When we moved here in 1977, I met a lovely grandmother at a grocery store check-out counter. With her was a young boy just the age of my son. The six year olds became friends quickly and the two families spent many happy times together in the years that followed. Tales from the aisles are worth remembering.
In my hometown, there were at least three grocery stores. Residents rarely drifted from one to the other. In most cases, the choice was dictated by where a person lived, but occasionally customers ventured into other parts of town searching for better bargains, more selections. Stores weren't open on Sundays or late at night. Shoppers were nearly always women, most of them were stay-at-home moms.
My own mother could have shopped at any of the trio of markets since we lived in the country, far from all stores. I cannot remember her ever venturing into the large A & P or the compact Piggy Wiggly. Her consistent destination was the Jitney Jungle. Because we grew our own vegetables and a variety of fruit, those items weren't on her list. Also, cows, chickens, pigs and sheep were slaughtered on the farm and we visited the local cold storage facility to retrieve packages of meat when our freezer needed replenishing. Eggs and milk were also plentiful at home.
What I do recall being placed in our cart was bread. You could select any variety as long as it was white. The days of multi-grain, whole wheat, pumpernickel or any other exotic flour were far into the future. With the Holsum Bakery making fresh bread and rolls at a factory right in town, there was no expectation (or awareness) of what we might be missing. We bought peanut butter, canned spaghetti and meatballs, pizza mix, tea bags, chocolate syrup, condiments (especially mayonnaise) and paper products. Mother paid in cash or with a check, signed by Daddy beforehand. No identification needed, of course. The groceries were placed in paper bags by a clerk who then wheeled our cart to the car and set our purchases safely in the trunk.
I don't think my mother dispatched me or my brother to the grocery store very often. I know I never paid much attention to the way she shopped except to note brands which, in some cases, I still select all these years later. Moving to Arizona as a young adult and finding myself responsible for grocery shopping provided an instant education. Living in a much bigger city offered many more choices in stores as well as the products they sold. In the 60's, I was a faithful customer at A.J. Bayless, a local Phoenix chain. I distinctly recall that my weekly grocery bill, including all those items my mother rarely had to buy, was approximately $20...for two. Bread was stocked in great variety and I quickly embraced the available diversity. My eating habits in those days could not be described as healthy and the grocery cart contained plenty of red meat, few greens and definitely whole milk.
While in high school, Henry worked at Daitch Shopwell, a New York grocery chain. He began with a moderate number of hours per week and before graduating was working full-time. As a teen-ager, he was promoted to Frozen Food Manager and for an additional twenty-five cents an hour, worked the night shift. How he was able to go to school much of the day and work all night remains an absolute mystery to me. He recalls those experiences very positively and remains especially proud of the money he was able to accumulate which significantly supported him in meeting financial obligations at the university he attended. I never tire of hearing about a truckload of ice cream being delivered to his store due to his naivete regarding the ordering process. Ever resourceful, Henry found enough space to sequester the voluminous cartons in store freezers. His 'mistake' became a boon when a sugar crisis spiked the cost of ice cream and his store was able to profit from their unusually large inventory. A classic memory.
I find that grocery stores help me to better understand the culture of places we visit. I observe the other shoppers, notice what is being bought, imagine the meals that will be prepared. I frequently engage in conversation with fellow shoppers, asking about a particular brand or whether something is as tasty as it looks. I'm very fond of miniscule spaces in Manhattan which stock essentials but also offer full service delis with fresh turkey, rare roast beef, ham and other meats in addition to already cooked entrees and a salad bar with too many tempting options. The fact that these small enterprises deliver to surrounding addresses until about three in the morning and stay open all night enhances their appeal.
European grocery stores vary widely from country to country. In London some years ago, I first encountered plastic bags at the check-out counter. I also learned that shopping carts were designed not to leave the store. If you tried to take the cart outside, the wheels locked. Shelves routinely abound with unfamiliar products that puzzle me. I'm naturally drawn to the unparalleled array of local breads, rolls, muffins, croissants and jams. I like these products far too much. In Brussels, we discovered a Manhattan-sized neighborhood grocery store replete with ready-to-heat soup, more marvelous bread, and puddings galore. The commodious shopping bag that I purchased, and still use, is thoughtfully designed with straps inside to hold bottles of wine.
In New York, I enjoy browsing at Turco's, located in Yorktown, where Henry spent much of his childhood. I've brought home multiple bottles filled with spices from that store. Turco's exhaustive deli is my idea of perfection.
Stew Leonard's in Danbury, Connecticut is legendary. Talking cows and other bits of whimsey decorate the cavernous space. Surely there is little that cannot be found at Stew's. The fun of wandering through the maze of aisles encourages customers to add many items not on their carefully composed lists. In the summer, there's a weekly bar-be-que adjacent to the store with picnic tables where customers dine comfortably.
On the west coast, I'm partial to New Seasons, a totally Portlandesque food emporium. The deli is first-rate and the bakery selections are worthy of European status. Though a bit more ordinary in its approach, I also like Lamb's Market in nearby Beaverton. Catering to a suburban crowd, Lamb's features many local and regional products so popular with Oregonians.
Down in the South, my hometown grocery stores are gone. Today there is a Wal-Mart, which I dislike intensely. I fret about the grocery stores and other businesses whose existence ceases when Wal-Mart moves into an area. In addition to that philosophical concern, I do not find their merchandising methods welcoming nor their products appealing. An alternative is the local market where I once stood in line behind a gentleman whose sole purchases were a bottle of Pepto-Bismal and a glass jar of pickled pigs' feet. I've pondered whether he felt the need to have the first product handy in case there was an unpleasant reaction when he consumed the second.
In the desert, I've adjusted to the closing of Vons which flourished for so many years near our house. Now I am a faithful shopper at the Ralphs location in the south end of town. I prefer it to the other Ralphs which is closer to home. I can't say exactly why I feel so strongly except 'my' Ralphs just seems right. As a twice-a-week customer, sometimes even more often, my face is fairly familiar to many of the staff. When I approach the deli counter, one of the ladies will generally say, "Do you want your pound and a quarter, thinly sliced Boar's Head Low Sodium turkey?" "Yes, thank you." I will respond. I'm almost addicted to the Cranberry Wild Rice Salad, the Carrot Raisin Jicama Salad, and most particularly the Tuna Salad (made without mayo) and Honey Nut Chicken Salad. I have a favorite checker named Karla, routinely ask the fishmonger about the freshness of the salmon, and discuss produce with the manager of that department. Ralphs is a kind of home for me.
In the last year or so, I've also become a regular customer at Fresh & Easy.
Maybe I like it because of its British origins. Maybe it's because their own brands do not contain high fructose corn syrup, or preservatives of any kind. It could be that I'm captivated by the tasty and reasonable fresh entrees that are ready to be microwaved or frozen. I will admit that I'm having trouble staying away from the yummy breakfast scones, full of nuts and fruit. Also more calories than I should ingest, but healthy nonetheless...... There is also the factor that, although I can't actually see the store from the in front of my house, it is close enough for a walk during the less blistering months of the year.
In the 21st century, grocery stores have altered product lines and business techniques. Customers are invited to sign up for cards which offer instant discounts, receive coupons which reduce final bills and sometimes get lower prices at certain gas stations. Plastic bags are strongly discouraged, even banned in some cities. Recyclable bags last longer and champion the concept that the user is doing something positive for the environment. Credit or debit cards account for most grocery transactions with very few customers using cash or writing a check. We've become accustomed to emptying our own carts and placing items on the conveyer belt. At Fresh & Easy, there are no clerks totaling purchases. The customer does the scanning and bags his/her items. Occasionally, there's bagging assistance from store personnel. Either method works just fine.
In late summer 2012, my grocery carts are lighter, though the bill is many times what I spent 40-something years ago. Not that there are fewer items, but the food is healthier. Beef is never selected. Turkey and chicken fill my freezer. We really enjoy turkey burgers (extra lean variety) and turkey sausage. Milk is always fat free. Meat loaf and meat balls are made with egg whites only. Spinach is a staple for me. Tomatoes reside on my counter. Broccoli, asparagus and zucchini are stored in the fridge. Yogurt claims a whole shelf in the refrigerator door. Bread and rolls are always multi-grain or whole wheat, as are tortillas. Chicken stock, used constantly, is 100% fat-free. Sauces are made with stock, lemon juice, honey and herbs. Watermelon, grapes, and bananas are favorite fruits. Oatmeal is a preferred snack. Desserts do appear, especially when there are guests in the house. (How can a Lemon Apricot Cake hurt anyone?)
Grocery stores rarely fail to provide me with moments of reflection and stories to savor.
