Unexpected Sweetness: giving organic supermarkets a second try

“Geez it’s cold in here.” This was my first thought when I stepped into HEB’s Central Market. This thought was quickly replaced, however, by a barrage of further contemplations.

Looking around, I was immediately aware of two things: I was one of the few young people in the store, as most shoppers appeared to be suburban mothers and relatively young business men in their polished, crisp dry-cleaned suits. I also quickly took notice of the countless number of banners announcing “fresh,” “all-natural,” and “organic” above the nestled-in-ice foods.

From these observations, I was quickly able to establish the kind of place I’d wandered into: one of those so-called “yuppie” venues I hear people at school complaining about endlessly.

I’m sure you’re wondering why it is that I have just now, after three years of living in Austin, discovered Central Market. Unfortunately, I have no satisfactory answer. Truth is, I just never cared to spend any of my time or funds on this place, mostly because I believed it to be just another Austin-esque environmental gimmick. However, I recently sprung an interest in establishing a healthier eating regimen, which includes branching out to foods I am not accustomed to, and I had an inkling Central Market would be the ideal place to find these foods. Though incredibly dubious at first, I walked out completely satisfied. It took some wandering around to get a sense of the place first, however.

As I began walking around, I felt a little displaced. The vegetables seemed impeccably arranged. There were rows of squash, bell peppers and tomatoes, all gleaming as if each vegetable had been individually polished. I was overly-cautious moving around the items, fearful of causing the slightest disarray to their neat little pyramids. The deli and seafood sections, though a little more welcoming with workers waiting to help, were still slightly unapproachable. The neat rows of fish filets, all perfectly cut and shaped, made me hesitant to ask for any. There were just so many choices! Each section I reached, I encountered numerous labels and names I did not recognize. Everywhere I turned, I was met with various bleached-blonde, perfectly-tanned women, carefully reading labels on each product. It was not fun waiting patiently to find my crunchy peanut butter or the perfect cucumber.

When I reached the bakery, however, all my unease dissipated: cookies make anyone feel at home.

The scent of the slightly frosted buttercream vanilla cookies meshed with fresh fudge brownies glowing under the warm bakery lights made me instantly feel I was where I belonged. With a batch of my favorite cookies in hand, I made my way through the cooking utensils aisle, with its marvelous array of choices and came across a bar where people were gathered around a wine tasting.

The wine appreciators sat around a lively-lit bar, cups in hand, laughing and chatting with their neighbors while savoring what I suspect was delectable wine. The light jazz music added to the festive scene, reminding me of a classic Renoir painting. It turns out Central Market hosts a series of cooking and food appreciation classes open to anyone seeking to become a cuisine connoisseur, for a relatively reasonable price as well. I might just have to take up a class or two myself one day!

The employees also helped me feel more at home. Walking around, I found myself surrounded by nicely-dressed, well-kept young men asking, “Would you like help with that ma’am?” With their help, even the seemingly impossible-to-get-to delicious luxuries atop the highest shelves were not out of my reach. I was happily handed my canned fresh green beans. Who wouldn’t feel more comfortable with this kind of service? Their female counterparts were no less friendly, willing to help with a smile whenever help was solicited.

As I approached the cash registers to pay, I was greeted with the fresh, yet sweet aroma of flowers. Not a bad tactic, Central Market. In case you are flustered while competing in the bumper-basket war as you shopped down the aisles, bright, cheery gardenias and tulips are there to assure that at least your last moments in the store are enjoyable.

“Paper or plastic?” When I was asked this as I rung out, I had to pause for a minute: I couldn’t even recall the last time I was asked that question. Glad to see there are still places one can be brought back to previous decades, when this question was commonplace at a market store.

As I walked out of the Market, I realized I was already thinking of what I would buy the next time I was in the store. This thought was elaborated in great detail later when I got home and tried my peanut butter. It was crunchy, yet nice and fluffy. Though I had taken a chance on my peanut butter, as it was one of the few items not offered as a sample, I found myself content. The rest of my goods were no less satisfying. The most remarkable part, to a college student, was the fact that my total was actually in the same price range I usually expect. Tastier, healthier food for the same price—there is no complaint over that!

Though before I was an avid cynic of places that claimed to be “organic” and “all-natural,” Central Market has given me enough reason to begin taking more interest in trying out locales of this nature. I mean, any place that can get me to actually start cooking has to have something more to it, right?