"Eat your lunch before it coagulates!"
The breaded chicken tenders were the thing DRY in the entire deli display case. The rest of the offerings - allegedly "ready to eat" dinners (like Jewel's rotisserie chicken) - looked uncomfortably close to what happens a few hours after eating: oily brown chorizo, greasy pulled pork in sticky orange fluid...and a shiny yellow fish-dish whose appearance is usually followed by "Gesundheit!"
The breaded chicken tenders were the thing DRY in the entire deli display case. The rest of the offerings - allegedly "ready to eat" dinners (like Jewel's rotisserie chicken) - looked uncomfortably close to what happens a few hours after eating: oily brown chorizo, greasy pulled pork in sticky orange fluid...and a shiny yellow fish-dish whose appearance is usually followed by "Gesundheit!"
There's a 1980s-era strip mall located about a mile from my house, and up until two months ago it housed two large grocery stores: Jewel/Osco - a major Chicago chain, and Cermack - a large, upscale Hispanic grocer. I used to shop at both of them: Jewel for dry goods and deli fried chicken, and Cermack for (uncooked) meat and their amazing produce dept. When compared to the other, Jewel's meat was expensive (and their produce lackluster), and Cermack just didn't carry the white-people-staples that I buy every week. Thank goodness the grocers were so close to each other.
Unfortunately, Jewel closed 6 months ago...and that left Cermack as the only game in the neighborhood. Though I still bought meat/produce at Cermack, I had to go elsewhere for my "white people necessities," including Ranch dressing, Kraft Mac & Cheese, chocolate soy milk, and of course, deli chicken. It's always sad to lose "your" local grocery store, and despite great meat/produce, Cermack made me feel like a tourist visiting a foreign land. Sure, most sale signs were written in English, but that always seemed more like a courtesy...as if to say, "Be nice to the white people."
Unfortunately, Jewel closed 6 months ago...and that left Cermack as the only game in the neighborhood. Though I still bought meat/produce at Cermack, I had to go elsewhere for my "white people necessities," including Ranch dressing, Kraft Mac & Cheese, chocolate soy milk, and of course, deli chicken. It's always sad to lose "your" local grocery store, and despite great meat/produce, Cermack made me feel like a tourist visiting a foreign land. Sure, most sale signs were written in English, but that always seemed more like a courtesy...as if to say, "Be nice to the white people."
That being said, Cermack surprised me this morning when I walked through the doors and nearly tripped over a WALL of bottled ketchup.
And it wasn't just any ketchup….it was Heinz, the good stuff - "a bottle of our finest red."
And it wasn't just any ketchup….it was Heinz, the good stuff - "a bottle of our finest red."
As I investigated further, I found many other white-people-walls, including displays of Hellmanns mayonnaise, freshly-baked artisan bread, Magic Shell, name-brand peanut butter...and Kool-Aide in flavors other than lime & rice milk. I was also pleased to see a vastly-expanded selection of cat food; no Fancy Feast, but a good 8 more 9-Lives choices. I'm guessing that Mexicans don't spend too much on their cats.
It was clear that Cermack had re-merchandised its store, in an effort to woo the white customers who used to shop at Jewel. I was pleased at this development, though the more I thought about it, the more I realized, "Hey! That means that I'M the minority! That's not how the world is supposed to work!"
"So, this is what it feels like," I thought, staring at the surrounding Hispanic patrons...and the small, timid huddles of pasty white shoppers. The bilingual pages echoed across the sales floor, and the MUZAK alternated between 80s pop - and Mexican mariachi.
As a white guy, the whole shopping experience felt just a tad out of sync, like watching a foreign film - dubbed or with subtitles. I walked - slowly - through this pork-themed, Hispanic Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, expecting at any moment to fall into a river of orange grease. But I didn't fall. And I somehow made it through the aisles of bulk rice, bulk tortillas, and children whose bulk came from eating rice & tortillas.
And somehow, despite the Oompa-Loompas singing their strange, siren-Salena songs, I somehow made it to this crazy world's cash registers, clutching my bag of breaded chicken tenders.
It was clear that Cermack had re-merchandised its store, in an effort to woo the white customers who used to shop at Jewel. I was pleased at this development, though the more I thought about it, the more I realized, "Hey! That means that I'M the minority! That's not how the world is supposed to work!"
"So, this is what it feels like," I thought, staring at the surrounding Hispanic patrons...and the small, timid huddles of pasty white shoppers. The bilingual pages echoed across the sales floor, and the MUZAK alternated between 80s pop - and Mexican mariachi.
As a white guy, the whole shopping experience felt just a tad out of sync, like watching a foreign film - dubbed or with subtitles. I walked - slowly - through this pork-themed, Hispanic Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, expecting at any moment to fall into a river of orange grease. But I didn't fall. And I somehow made it through the aisles of bulk rice, bulk tortillas, and children whose bulk came from eating rice & tortillas.
And somehow, despite the Oompa-Loompas singing their strange, siren-Salena songs, I somehow made it to this crazy world's cash registers, clutching my bag of breaded chicken tenders.