Market Maven

Today I rode over to my local supermarket, something which is certain to guarantee a wide smile for the manager. I don't say that because the sight of me on a bicycle with a plastic crate on the back is all that heartwarming -- though it is -- but more because I'm nearly the worst shopper, ever.

I typically wait as long as I can before heading out to buy groceries. I'd hate for the world to end just buying a bunch of food I'll never enjoy, so I wait until the last possible minute before replenishing my supplies. This typically means I'm hungry as hell, which is just what the supermarket people love.

That, plus my list -- if I bother with one -- is designed for maximum store profit. Instead of clipping coupons or looking at sale advertisements, I tend to plan rather generically, and my list is more likely to include "dinner" as an item than, say, pork chops. This gives me great freedom, and whatever looks good or catches my fancy is what I buy.

And, when I'm hungry, even food I can't fathom eating looks good.

This supermarket, Vons, goes by Safeway in the rest of the US, I think, and in the past month or two, they've discovered the increased profits that organic offerings generate and have begun rolling out a huge line of privately-labeled organic goods. Instead of a cute picture of a bountiful valley with a smiling, rising sun like my vitamins have, this label has no pictures. The organic goods are distinguished by the letter O, albeit a fancy, modern looking one.

The simple labeling is fine with me, and I have no doubt the food is manufactured by one of the three corporations who supply something like eighty percent of the nation's organic goods. The benefit for me, other than the carbon, is that as a new item, the organic stuff is introduced at a lower price than the more familiar brands. This means my unsalted butter costs less than what I usually buy, but I do lose the fun of seeing what that Indian maiden's breasts look like.

I picked up some organic onions and also some Vidalia ones. The Vidalias, for me, are a greater sign of summer than watermelon. When they arrive in the stores, I know it will be getting hot. They're wonderful onions, and I've heard you can eat them just like an apple, but I haven't tried that yet.

Maybe I'll try that later.

The organic things that were introduced a couple weeks ago are now, naturally, more expensive than the national brands they compete against. Just like drug dealers, the market knows the benefit of getting you hooked cheaply. The added expense always concerns me because I can't help but think of a more divided world. I wonder, in fifty years, if there will be one class of food for sustenance and another reserved for those who can eat better than the unwashed masses. I envision some cross between Soylent Green and ramen for the world's poor, while others enjoy stuffed hummingbird tongues and hand-picked and sculpted radish flower salads.

That's a world that would sadden me, even more than this one does.