Escape from Whole Foods: tiny cheeses- part 2
| Download
Sandra Tsing Loh gathers her strength to escape from Whole Foods by stopping at the wine bar.
So my friend Jane is visiting from Des Moines, and, as I described last WEEK, the uniquely L.A. DESTINATION this native Californian was yearning for was not the GETTY Center or Disney HALL or Universal CITY but the flagship WHOLE FOODS in Pasadena. Believe it or not, she doesn’t HAVE a Whole Foods in Des Moines.
Which on the ONE hand Jane knows is a GOOD thing, what with the famously OVERPRICED foo-foo organic food EMPORIUM’S standard eighty dollar COVER. You never know how it HAPPENS, at Whole Foods, how simply by ENTERING the store you instantly go broke. It’s like DRIVING through Las Vegas or attending a convention of pickpockets. Ergonomically-designed bottles of fresh-SQUEEZED honeydew casaba melon JUICE bend their swanlike necks OVER and actually slip your VISA card from its wallet. . . Toothsome, ready-made, single-serving BUCKETLETS of curry raisin manchego-flaked cilantro fetuccini reach out as you pass by-- The fetuccini noodles actually reach out their buttery TENDRILS, dip INTO your pockets, and effortlessly slip OUT bills of tens and twenties.
However, Janey just WANTED to see the INSIDE of this department store-sized Whole Foods, TWO FLOORS, WITH an escalator-- Just SEE it-- It’s on our way HOME-- Like Odysseus chaining himself to the mast, we are safely ANCHORED by pre-bought Von’s CHICKEN breasts WAITING for us in my trunk, and a Trader Joe’s make-your-own packet of SALAD for dinner, so there’s no temptation to buy anything--
"And why would we ANYWAY?" we begin laughing, almost in RELIEF, as we pull in to Whole Food’s CONFUSING underground parking, with exotic HYBRIDS and Mini Coopers bumping noses this way and that.
"What’s this--clothing made of HEMP?" Jane scoffs, as we finger ridiculously impractical ITEMS in its erstwhile LOBBY.
"Ooh--big MARKDOWNS on mung beans and chinois!" I say, waving at the plexiglass GRAIN bins. Dourly shoveling AT them is a clearly lactose INTOLERANT engineer in bike pants, his frizzy brown PONYTAIL giving him the DEMEANOR of an oversized SQUIRREL.
And yet, when the escalator LIFTS us to the glory of the second floor, we go into a glaze. We simply DON’T know WHAT to mock next. . .
The maze of gourmet food bars? The Mediterranean bar, the vegan bar, the olive bar--that’s right, a bar devoted ENTIRELY to olives! The bakery? The display of SUSHI? The--oh my god--a full CLIMBING wall of artisanal cheeses, actual little CRACK BAGS of cheese. . .
We feel FAINT. In order to gather strength to find our way OUT of this Pleasure ISLAND, we need to stop at the wine bar--SURPRISINGLY REASONABLE, just $3.99 a glass. One glass and we’ll get out. To safety.
blog comments powered by Disqus
