While enjoying the flow of oxygen during exercise, a delusional thought arose, that perhaps it is worth writing about the supermarkets and groceries I seek out when traveling. Each is a reflection of the area, and each has something to distinguish them. For me it's something fun to do in new destinations, and I am always on the search for kosher products and interesting foods. It is something else to write about, even if it is spoken from the perspective of a white, Jewish, privileged male ("dazed choir boy" comes to mind, thanks to Terry Pratchett).
The last several weeks have seen me visiting Wilmington, Delaware, a town with a business center in downtown filled with people who all commute from the suburbs, some even from Philadelphia. The downtown core is also surrounded by some of the most dangerous neighborhoods in the United States. In this way it is reminiscent of Detroit, although not in the same bereft, rundown manner. Half the downtown area is still very much urban core, while the other half is financial and covered in sleek glass buildings. It was here that I encountered a grocery that redefined my expectations of such markets, forcing me to read the definition of a grocery on Wikipedia. Turns out, "supermarket" and "grocery" are not the same. One is like a dry-goods store, the other usually has fresh produce. In need of something to eat for a weekend stay, caused by a visit to a local refinery for work that stretched too late for a flight back in time, I went to a market somewhere on 2nd street in Downtown. While the couple behind the counter did sell sandwiches and other foods, there was no produce at all, just canned foods, chips, diapers, and cleaning equipment, and milk in the refrigerators. No yogurts either.
Now perhaps this is what supermarkets look like in food deserts, but privileged me hadn't ever seen this sort of thing. Fortunately, canned spinach and asparagus is just fine.
There was an actual grocery store at the outskirts of downtown, dingy and dark. In the evening, bins of potatoes and wilted cabbage are covered with burlap, while a row of artificially flavored sodas sits nearby. Apples are not to be found. Aside from some sparkling cider, the grape juice to be had is full of corn syrup and lots of artificial purple coloring. A bit depressing.
The last several weeks have seen me visiting Wilmington, Delaware, a town with a business center in downtown filled with people who all commute from the suburbs, some even from Philadelphia. The downtown core is also surrounded by some of the most dangerous neighborhoods in the United States. In this way it is reminiscent of Detroit, although not in the same bereft, rundown manner. Half the downtown area is still very much urban core, while the other half is financial and covered in sleek glass buildings. It was here that I encountered a grocery that redefined my expectations of such markets, forcing me to read the definition of a grocery on Wikipedia. Turns out, "supermarket" and "grocery" are not the same. One is like a dry-goods store, the other usually has fresh produce. In need of something to eat for a weekend stay, caused by a visit to a local refinery for work that stretched too late for a flight back in time, I went to a market somewhere on 2nd street in Downtown. While the couple behind the counter did sell sandwiches and other foods, there was no produce at all, just canned foods, chips, diapers, and cleaning equipment, and milk in the refrigerators. No yogurts either.
Now perhaps this is what supermarkets look like in food deserts, but privileged me hadn't ever seen this sort of thing. Fortunately, canned spinach and asparagus is just fine.
There was an actual grocery store at the outskirts of downtown, dingy and dark. In the evening, bins of potatoes and wilted cabbage are covered with burlap, while a row of artificially flavored sodas sits nearby. Apples are not to be found. Aside from some sparkling cider, the grape juice to be had is full of corn syrup and lots of artificial purple coloring. A bit depressing.
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