This past week I visited a few grocery stores in order to look at the difference between chain stores and local corner groceries. The very first thing that hits you as you walk into any store is the atmosphere, the "feel" of the place. And what a difference there was!
Whole Foods is a massive store with tall ceilings and fresh produce almost bursting out the front door. As you walk in, you go through the floral and fresh fruit to get to the rest of the store, showing of products they are proud of and creating a aromatic welcome to all customers. Throughout the store the verity is incredible. Any product on the shelves is surrounded by at least five other options for nearly the same price, the differences between them subtle. Looking at the patrons smelling produce, asking about the quality of the deli, or searching for that one perfect mix of dried fruit I noticed that there were maybe five people in the entire store who were over fifty-five. Most people buying and selling goods were in their
late twenties to mid-forties.
Very few children were there, but it did look like there were parents gathering supplies for a large family-sized dinner. What struck me the most was a sense of being in a group. All people in the store, myself included, acted and felt like the shopping experience was somehow better, that all of the products that were sold here were exclusively for us. A very large community, connected by the thousands of other stores across the nation, were all buying these products that no else had access too. We were special.
Langenstein's is the iconic corner grocery. Small, packed with food, narrow but full isles, little corners hidden away from a cursory glance over the store. To get into the store a person walks by what seems like dozens of jars of olives, bottles of cider and apple juice, and soda that I had last tasted while in Europe. Wandering through the maze of food I flashed back to
Aldi's as a child, finding food that is did not know existed in a grand adventure of discovery. Watching a three year old toddler running through and exploring Langenstein's, I felt a smile tug at my lips and a wave of nostalgia and memories flashed through my mind. Families and children walked through the store, some stopping to talk to good friends while passing each other at the meat counter. The staff were either in their late fifties, looking like they had worked there all of their lives, or late teens early twenties, trying to pay off student loans or finally getting that car. But Langenstein's small size hides a huge variety of products. The olives and sodas already mentioned were just the tip of the iceberg.
While their strength seemed to be in canned and non-perishable goods, I found in the refrigerated section a pre-made squid salad that looked like it had been made that day. This salad was not something you would find in any chain store, it was the product that seafood-rich New Orleans could provide for the people who grew up on it. This was a store that you wandered through and explored as a child, bought soda from as a teenager, scrounged for a bargain as a starving young adult trying to make it in the world, and brought your kids to when you needed to swing by to get dinner after school. This store was the kind of stores that are as much a part of the community as the local playground. Whole Foods also has a sense of community, but it is an artificial one that was created when the store was built. Langenstein's community grew organically through generations of families all swinging by the store to get whatever need needed to be satisfied. Both grocery stores were wonderful with many products that I need or will need. But the moment that I walked into Langenstein's I felt at home, and knew that this was the place that I would be coming back to.
