Let's Talk Shop

I now gauge how late I've been up writing, by whether or not I'm in bed before the Peterman clock changes. I came to see what my friends had said today, and found a blank page.

I love supermarkets. I remember one in Kentucky, very close to our church camp. I walked in for a tea. I was probably 15 or 16. Anyway, everyone looked up. One person actually said it. "You're not from around here, are you?" I laughed. "No. But I like it here. Does that count?"

I also have to say I went way out of my way to purchase a Piggly Wiggly t-shirt before I moved home from North Carolina. I knew nobody would believe it was a real joint. I was right.

we are blessed in my town with an honest to goodness market with an actual butcher counter.  the prices are generally a bit higher than the national chain supermarket, but not always.  The produce is locally grown and organic if they can get it, and its quality is superb.

We buy actual food, as Michael Pollan would say, and stay away from the mass produced and mass processed items as much as possible.

I recentyly went into the chain supermarket because of a late night need to have some items on hand in the morning; I was again surprised how difficult it was to find anything nutritionally worthwhile. 

A friendly neighbor used to take my mother to the A&P in the evenings after dinner.  I got to go along.  It was very exciting to be out at night, and a clear privilege to be part of the women's contingent with my mother and her friend. "Green Point" stamps were carefully pasted, page by page, in a little booklet until there were enough for the next volume in their Children's Encyclopedia series.

I remember trying to look at the pictures in the dark on the ride home in the back seat of the car, wedged in between the brown paper bags.  There was the smell of freshly ground coffee. (Mother was so brave to push the button on that monster machine!)  And the voices from the front seat.  Mom and Maria met in their American Citizenship classes, and were sworn in together.  Both had survived World War II as children in Europe.  The great "Atlantic and Pacific" company, for beautiful and spacious skies indeed!

I personally long for days gone by.  Growing up my grandparents lived in a tiny town called Mackville, KY.  Population... maybe 100.  They had the ultimate grocery experience.  The corner store.  It was like a scene from Petticoat Junction or Little House.  The clapboard floors, front porch with rockers and pickle barrels.  The owner always had a piece of gum for us kids and it was a surreal experience never to be forgotten each time you visited.  The towns older men sat on the front porch to pass the time and the socialization and the stories told were endearing to say the least.  The owner, Mr. Bottoms, was the butcher, the baker, the gardener, the pharmacist, the checker, the bagger, the physo-therapist, the dry cleaner, the banker, the florist, he did it all.  It was a huge influence on me, even today.  Now, Fresh Market and other specialty stores are my venue.  I especially love to go to the Farmers Markets when in season.  (Big Sigh)...the nostalgia is getting to me.  

Have a great day, Mack        

I used the i-Mac's Photo Booth to show to you all my Piggly Wiggly Preferred Customer card. It is a backward image that will defy reproduction.

I would trust this village with my credit card or SS numbers, but there are limits.

My favorite market happens to be our neighborhood market, Weiland's. Opened as just a meat market in 1962, they've expanded their products over the years to include gourmet food items, a small but tasty salad bar, homemade bread, as well as some ready-made meals to go, among other things. For Valentine's Day, you can buy an entire romantic meal to go; just heat and serve.

In the warmer months, they smoke brisket and other meats to sell, and set up an outdoor plant and herb market. The butcher will always find the choicest cut for you, and ask how you're going to prepare it.  They have a wine aisle, cheese and fruit samples always available, and a small cup of coffee for free as I browse.

While it costs a little more than food in the big box store, the service and quality of food can't be beat.

Ahh, the Piggly Wiggly.  The one near my house is sometimes referred to as the Sociable Pig because you see some many people you know there.  Since Publix opened a smaller store only three blocks from my house, I have become a loyal customer.  The employees are friendly AND competant and even the sullen teenage boys can make polite smalltalk.  The butchers are accomodating and will even track you down in the store if you wander off while they're cutting your roast.

I also enjoy the Fresh Market for the more expensive cuts of meat and high-end items.  Their produce is more expensive but not insultingly so. Plus, they have a great candy counter!  Also close to our house is a tiny, locally-owned butcher shop.  The locally-raised chickens he sells are tiny, compared with the factory raised ones but they are real chickens, no?  And quite tasty. 

Today's NY Times has an interesting article on what organic doesn't mean.  Czech it out:

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/03/04/dining/04cert.html?th&emc=th

MAckdaddy ~ My maternal granparents ran a shop like tht in a town that had about a population of 52. My mom & aunt actually grew up like Nellie & Willie Olson, where the house & the store were connected... Grandma & Grandpa ran the shop for the owners & my grandmother worked for them until the late 80's when they closed down the business.  Of course in the late 60's the owners built a new store/ house & grandma & grandpa had moved to a house up the street from there. That is the place I remember & it was set up like an old country store up until the J's closed it down.  It was really a relic form the past by then, a true country store kind of like the ones you see set up in the Historical recreation parks...I miss it, it alwasy makes me think maybe simpler is better when it comes to groceries especially in today's world......

P.S. My cousin Swears to this day that Bartels & James always sat on the stores front porch....  

Miss Ive ~ Piggly Wiggly is HUGE around here ~ We always had the Ads with that dang cartoon little pig dancing around, yet he was like a deranged looking Porky Pig to me as a child & scared me to death. I tend not to shop there today yet becuase of it.

While in Memphis we dorve by the Piggly Wiggly Mansion all done in Pink Granite, It's quite the interesting statement about your wealth using your companies signature color if you ask me...

Once you move out of the city, in my case New York City, you realize there's a whole shopping world out there. You discover Kosco's (I had never heard of Kosco's before) but then even a average supermarket like Hannaford's seems like the Taj Mahal to me. Diet Pepsi in bulk, enough paper towels to last a year! I haven't even been in a Piggly Wiggly!

Georgia,

Thought that you should know that your e-mail is bouncing messages back.

???

Rings:  That is awesome.  Then you know exactly what I am trying to express/articulate.  I get teary-eyed just thinking about those days.  Yes...simpler is better.  The whole atmosphere was gentile and comforting.  I, no we, were very fortunate to grow up in that era.  Kids today will never know that experience.  It is a sad thing, but I am grateful that I did.  WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL, MEMORIES!

If Dredd Pirate was here (where is he?) he'd probably talk about Murray's cheese shop in Grenwich Village and of course, Zabars uptown. The thing about New York city I miss are the larger specialty shops like Citarellas and small butcher shops. Well said, Rings.

My favorite name for a supermarket is Moo & Oink from Chicago's South-Side.

PL:  Love the name...sounds like my kind of place!

I think I like simplier better ~ There's the  Fromage (cheese) Shop by us & I tend to go there to buy cheese rather than the grocery. Yes i pay a bit more, BUT I also feel I am buying quality & really the customer service & the samples are first rate.   I try to support local Businesses when I can because I have in the past few years begun to realized HOW important they are to your neighborhood.  I do admit I do buy the bulk of my groceries at a chain store, but I will buy my favorite cheeses at the Fromage, in the summer I will go to the Farmers Markets for produce. So I do Try...

I also am a HUGE fan of Trader Joes ~ have loved that store since I stumbled onto it literally set in a parking garage in Lincoln Park IL while looking for the Crate & Barrell Outlet store (YES it does Exist.) 

I don't have too much experience with Whole Foods I have to go to Milwuakee for WF or TJ"s. So I ahve been trying to get more informed about the products at Whole Foods also. Whole Foods does however carry a Soda brand called DRY Soda ~ Which is REALLY GOOD I will be making a trek to Milwaukee this month as one of the locally owned bookstores is shutting its doors for good so I am going down to buy my last book from them :(  & then I will be able to restock the TJ's merchandise & pick up a case of the DRY Soda & check out what exactly what Whole Foods is....   

PL:  went to the website...the commercial is HILARIOUS!  Thanks for the giggles.  Needed that, hubby left town today for a week and I am sad. 

Rings: We too, have a local cheese shop called "the Mouse Trap".  I am addicted to the place.  I am with you.  The price is higher, but the quality, cleanliness, atmosphere, and service are worth the difference.  I am not really taken with our Whole Foods Market.  In my opinion, it is a poor version of Wild Oats.  The produce and meats are questionable most of the time.  I mostly shop at Fresh Market but we have a large chain called Meijer and they carry their own brand of organic foods that are much better.  Ok...now I am hungry.     

You guys are right on...there's nothing like a small cheese shop. They remind me of France, where everything can have its own shop.

The nearest Whole Foods to us is two hours away but whenever I visit my Dad, I like to drop some money there. Beware....we like to call it Whole Paycheck Foods.

MACKDADDY,

I still crack up everytime I hear the MOOOoooooo and OoIIInk on th radio.

Why don't you start planning an adventurous scenic tour ride home from the airport for your hubby with Barry W playing on the cd.   That should lift your spirits.

Peace out...

PL:  Your memory is wayyyyyy too keen, but I like your way of thinking.  It's gonna be a LOOOOONG week.  Facebook, PE, and foreign films will only occupy me for so long.  So I will take your suggestion and work on a plan.  Would welcome a man's point of view on ideas.  Hey...to tie this into today's topic, I could go to Fresh Market and pack a sort of picnic dinner for the trip home; cheese, wine, fruit.  Thanks and I am sure my husband would thank you too.  But I will selfishly take credit for the idea.  Hope you don't mind.      

J. Peterman,

Since nothing else seems to be working, might I suggest a topic of "Irish Butter," to free Jonathon Isles from the chains of malaise?

There's a lack of passion afoot in his absence.

Stoney

I can remember, vaguely, back in the early 80's, when my grandfather took me to the downtown (where, up until last October I lived).  In one small store, we would get meat cut to order.  Then we'd hit the bakery for fresh bread (and another bakery for day-old bread for the dog).  Then we'd hit the fruit stand for plant-thingies. 

Now, we have a SuperWalmart, and a wide variety of grocery stores that offer the same products for the same prices, from the same suppliers.  If I want the REAL good stuff, here is the route I have to take:

Bread: Drive an hour to the South East and find my way to the downtown area.  In the block next to the funky coffeeshop and the bookstore, accessable only through a dingy alley, sits the Back-Alley Bakery, where a wide variety of brick-oven sourdough loaves are baked fresh every day.  I've had their olive bread (not bad, bit dry) and their bleu-cheese bread (heaven with a crust).  They do different types of breads, from Baklava to Pepper Cheddar to Focaccia and Walnut Raisin.  The place smells like heaven and I'd be tempted to take a date there with a bottle of wine and a jug of olive oil.

Cheese: The only place that has a wide variety of imported cheeses is the HyVee about an hour to the east of here.  Get the Kerrygold Dubliner cheese.  Eat it slow.

Meat: I am forced to drive 10 miles north, sneak into my parents' basement, and raid their freezer for family grown beef.  I wish I could find a good source for goat . . .

Veggies: The local farmers market is pretty lame (and held in the K-mart parking lot) so for the good one, I have to drive about 3 hours to Lincoln (May through October) for the weekly fete to sample everything from frybread (sometimes wrapped around a sausage) to ostrich meat and fresh squeezed pineapple juice.  I think, at least once this summer, I will drive down on a Friday afternoon, get a hotel room, and hit the market as it opens. :D

I need a tomato.

MACKDADDY,

I say girl, I say.... I do believe you are on the right track fo' gettin a man's two feet back blissfully on the ground after a long long flight.   Ain't nuthin' like an outa-the-blue surprise picnic and dessert to ignite a reunion.

I'm just doin' mah part to keep us on track with the topic and steppin' back outa the way.  Have fun.

Back in the day when I was an "Evil Human Resources Guy" I spent a lot of time going back and forth to Phoenix from Chicago, usually twice, sometimes thrice a month. I always loved going there, especially in the winter for the obvious reasons. Besides the warmth, the beauty of the desert and the nice long naps during flights where cell phones where verboten... the food was awesome.

Even though there are so many really good restaurants in Scottsdale, I tired of dining out all the time so I searched for an alternative.

What I discovered was AJ's Fine Foods. This place was the mother load of fine groceries, exotic selections and a place to pick up anything from a freshly made-to-order deli sandwich to a complete gourmet meal... hot and ready to go. I would usually pick up something there and either return to the hotel or just find a park bench that was far enough away from to be able to eat and read quietly; but not too far away from a Starbucks and a fresh-non-fat, bone-dry, cappuccino.

I would often stop by AJ's on the way to the airport to pick up a few cans of their wonderful imported soups (like my luggage wasn't already heavy enough) and a great sandwich for in-flight consumption.

Ahhh.. nothing like the wafting of food memories to getcha going.

http://www.ajsfinefoods.com/

I try to keep all my shopping to locally owned places. No Wal-Mart for me.

What were the chances? I actually have a Great Atlantic & Pacific Tea Company story.

My mother, better loved by a lot of our friends than their own, was shy. Not just timid but pathologically unable to stand up for herself.

We were all at the table when she spoke of going to see a friend and then, on to the A&P where she planned to get two small items needed for supper. She had a five and some change, way more than needed.

She came home extremely upset that she had been cheated by the woman at the checkout. We had never heard that sort of thing out of her before, she being the kind to extend an extreme benefit of the doubt.

One of my older brothers and I went back, spoke to the manager who called over the checkout woman who denied everything.

The manager promised to check the day's totals and did, finding nothing untoward but giving the impression that he doubted the word of his own employee and not that of our mom.

My brother, the kind of guy always on the lookout for a scrap, was left disarmed.

I had an idea. Rummaging around in the trash in back of a nearby food distributor, I found some empty display tins for fancy nuts, "returned" them to the A&P manager who, without comment, "refunded" an amount of money that squared things or ought to have...

On our way out of the store, the checkout lady, thinking herself a victor of some sort, made an ill-advised comment.

Okay, getting even means, even. But an annoying Diana Dors blond- from the neck up only- gloating over causing distress to the defenseless when the defenseless happens to be your mom; that invokes the: Rule of X: Even x 10.

It was fate that she had the sand to defy convention by backing into a parking spot in the customer lot. A hooked cable, hanging nearby, attached itself, with minimal assistance, to the back of her car and then, to a six foot free-standing pre-cast concrete bumper.

Her car was a big, bright red convertible with a blindingly white top that was down.

My accomplice and I positioned ourselves on a rooftop next door and we didn't have long to wait: She came out, lit up a cigarette, fired her up and hearing a distant train that would soon block her access to the other side of town, gunned it.

It was an amazing thing to see. That concrete parking lot divider caught on something and began to walk end over end until she, sensing something wrong, slammed on the brakes, and it wound up in the car, just short of the windshield but not on her side.

The other kid, having gone a bit stiff, lay on his back mumbling: "She coulda been killed."

I'm not especially proud to admit that for just a few seconds there, my reaction was:
"So, what's your point?"

We had a little time up there owing to the fact that a policeman responded to her shrieking quicker than we had planned.

We could be seen by no one except, as my partner in crime kept pointing out, "God."

It was pretty easy to lie there watching the thing unfold thanks to a rear-view mirror found in the street and kept for a situation like that.

My friend, scared and shaking like a dinner plate dropped from not much height, wanted me to know that, in his opinion, this was more like revenge times one hundred.

I agreed only that it was a strong ten.

The train came, the policeman, the woman and a gathering crowd all stood on the other side of the tracks while we let ourselves down into the damp space between buildings, went to where we had left our bikes and walked them home. He was too nervous to ride.

He was a stout boy and I knew he could be trusted to keep his mouth shut but he wouldn't leave until I swore an oath that, in future, I would leave the serious getting even to higher powers. I did and have stuck to it.

It is the meek, after all, who inherit...

Just on Wallmart's political practices, I avoid it. They actually make sure their workers don't work enough hours to qualify for mandatory health care. Hey, you got to make a stand somewhere.

We can always talk about Alex Rodriguez, since he's mentioned in the post. But you do have to watch those due dates. Whole Foods is the Food Channel's darling. It's a fantastic store.

Stoney and Mr. Peterman,

I second Irish Butter, maybe it's affects when slathered on fine watercrafts.
I miss Isles.

M.I., in MI

I've completely given up on proofing my posts, but let it be known that the ' in it's above is thanks to my unruly phone's hyper autocorrect. And I'll not take the blame. The A in affects, rather than Effects, is all me. Jes sayin'. What's fair is fare.

Stoney, that's the best A&P story, no, the best grocery store story, no, the best revenge story  I ever heard.  Way to go, my man.  You'll be the first person I call when devious plans are needed.

Shandonista,

It was probably fifteen years later, that I sat up in bed one night with a pounding heart and a tight sphincter: "Jesus of Nazareth! What was I thinking?"

I have with one or two exceptions, hardly worth mentioning, stayed true to that promise and it has worked out pretty well.

Now if you know exactly what you want in terms of convenient store grade canned or frozen food stuff and dairy products, they used to have a number of "Drive-Through Dairies" in SoCal that filled the bill; fit the need. I'm not talking about the take-out window variety that is standard at your fast-food joints. I'm talking about driving into the building, telling the clerk what you need, he gets it, brings it to you while you are in the car, you pays the person, and then just drive out the other end of the building.

I do believe the time for this concept has been dead and buried for a long, long time but it was fun the one time I used it. Even though most of everything was in cans and such.... something about the residual smell of exhaust ruins the appetite.

I'm giving Whole Foods (in spite of Mackey's fall from grace) the benefit of the doubt.  After a lifelong fascination with little deli-marts, corner foodtiques, and the odd store that just manages to stock the perfect blend of smoked salt, Peruvian chocolates, and dilled green beans just like Grandma used to make... the place has won my heart.  Or maybe it's just overwhelmed any rational judgment I may have on the matter.  The latest WF on the west side of Los t Angels opened up on Lincoln with a whisper.  Who needs a huge media campaign when the first time you walk into the store your jaw drops.  Literally.  In 2008.  How often does this happen anymore?  Everyone that knows the store agrees, "Yeah, that was what I thought.  I could live here."  From organic locally grown produce to wines from the hinterlands of Germany.  Freshly baked whole grain breads and chocolate with himalayan salt and goji berries.  Rows of food (vegan, vegetarian, indian, desserts, italian pastries, salads, seafood, soups) prepared for the cooking-impaired.   

For once, I was content to be someplace that was entirely too big for its britches.

Speaking of little specialty sources, does anyone else have an addiction to 'When Pigs Fly' breads?

Nope, but it is never to late to develop another bread addiction.

Welcome to the EyE Lindley!

I too love Whole Foods, Lindley. I'm willing to give them a pass too.

Pine  Tree Market, Northeast Harbor, Maine

Extra points if you said "Macket" and "habbuh"

Trask,

Just under the wire. There must be a story...

You had many a wonderful shopping experience in France. Where you lived, in a huge old presbytery beside the Loire, the boulangerie/patisserie was right across the square, the fromagerie and epicerie next to it. Vin du pays from the epicerie was 5 francs a bottle, and you got a franc back when you returned the empty. Cheaper than bottled water, it was. You would wake up early, the confirmed night owl, just to dash across the square in nighty and robe, like many another housewife and daughter or whoever got bakery duty that day, and pick up several batons (at a franc, or about 15 cents, apiece) and a couple of croissants for petit-dejeuner. All the bread was against the back wall-you got what the boulanger's wife gave you, and you were glad. Tuck them under your oxter and dash away. The strong cafe-au-lait would be steaming in the bowl when you got back, so you would slice a baton into the napkin-lined basket, fetch out the pot of confiture des fraises, and Bob's your uncle. The bread was astonishingly good. You could just eat it plain, it was heavenly. The chevre, magnifique.

The hypermarche' is a sensory overload. There's everything, EVERYTHING, in France, there. It's a gastronomical wonderland, with all the shops you'd find in a French ville right together under one roof. Picardy tumblers stacked like small Escher fantasies, enameled pottery jugs from Bretagne, wonderful table linens, wine, cheese, breads, jams and a fresh vegetable market to one side. And the fresh yogurt, aromatise', omg! 

Near the house here, in the mature (ahem), shabby but semi-genteel part of the city, there's an old clabbered Mom and Pop grocery/gas store of the sort rarely seen anymore. They'll make you a baloney sandwich with a big dollop of malaise (or is it marsellaise?) on it and you can fish for cocolas in the cold water cooler. The name:

Toot 'n' Moo 

Houston is blessed with a plethora (that's like a really big bunch!) of ethnic supermarkets....Even as the American majors were in trouble in this city (Food Lion came and left; Safeway spun off Apple Tree which went bankrupt; etc; -- the ethnics have grown.

First were Fiesta, which broadened from Hispanic into oriental foods while keeping its Hispanic base.  (Its founder, a Jewish fellow, bought a Velasquez painting which hung in the 'mother store' for years; it's now in a museum where it belongs....).  

The French hypermart, Auchan, survived for years (and had a fantastic collection of cheeses and cold cuts worth driving 30 miles for).  It's now gone.

Of course both Whole Foods and (later) HEB's 'Central Market' moved in with a neat variety of exotic stuff (ahhh, the coffee beans!)

Hong Kong Market initially took over the Asian foods category (cool shopping and able to believe one is in China!) -- but now the Korean chain 'H-Mart' has come to town, locating itself near the Korean community, but drawing folks from all over the city.

The Cubans never made a big splash, but Cardet's was 'always there' -- and innumerable Mexican, Salvadorian, and other South American communities support their own small mom and pop groceries.

Ooops, I almost forgot the Phoenica -- featuring Mediterranean and Middle Eastern goodies (from Italy to Lebanon to Bulgaria to who knows what those labels are written in)... owned by an Armenian. 

Now, if I only had the time and the waistline to try everything on offer.... ohhhhhh, heaven!!!!!!!!!

Oh, gotta remember Nippon Daido, the Japanese supermarket.... and I'm sure I'm leaving someone else out....

When my youngest brother and his wife 'comes to town' from rural Louisiana, we always end up in some ethnic  growcery.... it's fun to just wander around (I can't believe that I said that!  When it comes to malls, I'm the 'minute man' like lots of guys...)

There was a Sentry super market right near where the Pig remains that, of a Sunday morning, offered hot baked ham and potato rolls.

The key was that the ham had to be shaved not sliced. If you could pick a piece up, it wasn't really shaved. You could feel demanding if the auto-slicer were down and it had to be done manually. Worth it though.