... I mean, here we come back from a grocery store with the most amazing haul—chicken, pork, half a cow. They must think we’re the greatest hunters on earth.” (-Anne Tyler)
My favorite grocery store is Fresh Market. There used to be one about a block and a half from our home, and it was such a delightful place. Like an old-fashioned market experience, it was a small store, with geraniums and fresh seasonal melons or pumpkins greeting you before you even crossed the threshold. Once venturing inside, you’d be soothed by classical music in the vein of Vivaldi or a Bach concerto. There were no brash fluorescent lights but warm colors to greet you, and you could wander the store among bouquets of vibrant fresh flowers, sampling mulled ciders and gourmet coffees, or savoring the scents of baked goods like Napoleans, pies, cheese cakes and wonderful loaves of crusty, peasant-y breads, behind overflowing counters. There aren't really "aisles" at Fresh Market.
You’d come to know the butcher and fishmonger by name, and could orchestrate which juicy pieces of meat or seafood you wanted with a simple nod.
Not long ago, our Fresh Market moved to a new location, primarily because they didn’t have adequate parking where they were. They’re still around, just further off than before, and we still buy there, but not as frequently...
I miss them. Can you tell?
“I went to the store
for a pear and a plum.
The fruit was all gone
so they sold me a drum.
I asked them for butter,
they offered me glue.
I tried to buy bread,
but they sold me a shoe.
They sold me a lamp
when I tried to buy cheese,
Instead of potatoes,
I wound up with keys.
They didn’t have milk,
so they sold me an oar—
I’ll never go back
to that store anymore."
(-Jack Prelutsky, from The Frogs Wore Red Suspenders)
