A food store recently opened in our Chicago neighborhood. Happy news for those of us who like to eat. It is clean, well stocked and brightly lit.
And much much more. Every aspect of food consumption apparently has been analyzed and installed within its cavernous two floors, with the possible exception of slaying one’s own game or harvesting one’s own produce.
That may be coming. For now, food as art, as entertainment, as social enabler, as convenience, as status symbol, as sustenance, as pleasure, as fantasy, as family outing, as educator, is here. The sushi bar, burger bar, coffee bar, salad bar, seafood bar, wine bar and bakery bar elevate the notion of public consumption to the level of worship.
Customers respond accordingly. Speaking in hushed tones, navigating around each other politely, poking melons for ripeness with respect.
I look forward to joining the happy horde who shop here but left empty-handed on initial visit. I must prepare my pantry, appliances and family for the arrival of food that will expect to be adored.