A Low Point (Alternate title: That Time I Cried in Whole Foods)

You remember that song from Cinderella, "So This is Love"? That's what was playing in my head when I walked into the recently opened Whole Foods that is a mere 4 miles from my office. I've known for months that Whole Foods was coming; I even drove around the construction site a couple times to admire the building's facade (Actually THAT might be the low point). But admiring and experiencing are two completely different species of existence.

After living in Portland, I realized that there's a very clear hierarchy of food vendors and it is as follows:

1. Farmer's Markets
2. Co-ops
3. Whole Foods
4. Trader Joe's
5. (Insert mediocre grocery store chain)

You can argue for Wegman's to be in the #3 spot and that's legit, but I don't live near one so it's a moot point. Nothing will ever compare to actually going to a farmer's market, walking around, and having a conversation with a vendor who most likely made, hunted, foraged, or farmed whatever you're perusing. At the PSU Farmer's Market, I knew the vendors by name and they knew me. I even flirted with a few on occasion, but that's another tale entirely. Co-ops get the #2 spot because, like their title suggests, they're a community based market that makes serious efforts to keep their products local and seasonal. Ranking at #4, I appreciate Trader Joe's for its affordability and healthier options but sometimes, depending on the day, it can be a hit or miss situation. Today we're discussing #3: Whole Foods, or Whole Paycheck as I've heard it often described. The only thing I hate about Whole Foods is my current, pathetic financial status. When I'm in a Whole Foods store, I genuinely want to justify spending $17 on vegan, cruelty-free, UVA-UVB protective sunblock. I want to spend $12 on about 4 ounces of freshly ground organic peanut butter. Sometimes, I even want to buy lamb shanks because of the Jane Austen novel that describes (in chalk lettering, no less)where and how the lamb was raised.

I'll understand if you think I'm violating the Lent(il) Project agreement to not patron any grocery stores, but I honestly didn't go with the intention to purchase anything. In fact, I didn't have a dime on me. I just needed to walk around and admire the beauty that surrounded me. The situation wasn't so different from going to the Met and abstaining from purchasing an overpriced print of yet another one of Monet's watercolor pond scenes. I was there to simply take it all in and score some free samples.

The Lentil Project Loop Hole #2: Free Samples. (The #1 Loop Hole of this Project is having someone offer to buy me a meal.) If a store is going to offer me small bites of free food, I think it's in bad form to refuse such unwarranted generosity. Besides, free samples are a mutually beneficial transaction; the vendors get to pitch their sale and I get to eat food that I didn't have to buy or cook. Win-win! I took my time walking around the aisles and eating the Dixie cup servings of whatever came my way. Today I got lucky and sampled spinach salad with a vegan, sugar-free, gluten-free dressing. The vendor was explaining to me the value of a salad dressing without sugar and a million other ingredients, and I just smiled and nodded gratefully for this bit of knowledge that my sister and Michael Pollan have sledge hammered into my brain for the past four years. I didn't say this out loud though. To be honest, I was so grateful to have even a bite of unfrozen spinach that I would have gladly asked her to explain the concept of veganism to me if it meant scoring another Dixie cup.

Wouldn't you know that I was almost immediately drawn to the bulk beans and grains section? After weeks of eating beans and grains almost exclusively, you'd think I'd sample-steal some wayward grapes from the produce section. Nope. I was about two free samples into Whole Foods before I was like, "Get out of town...Christmas Lima beans?! That's an heirloom variety!"

The crying bit didn't happen until I got to the Frozen Non-Dairy Ice Cream section and saw the Coconut Bliss. Coconut Bliss happens to be the best vegan ice cream ever made. When I lived with my sister Christina in a studio apartment on Belmont, I would find any and every reason to fork out $6 for a pint of this stuff. Then I would find any and every reason to justify eating an entire pint in under an hour (These are the sordid games we crazy kids out in the deep end of the BMI like to play). I loved this ice cream so much that I even wrote a fan letter to Luna and Larry detailing my admiration (New low point?). I've been on the hunt for Coconut Bliss out here on the East Coast but to no avail. Until today. Seeing all the pints lined up in front of me, to look at but not touch, made my heart ache. I missed Portland, I missed my sisters, and I missed the ease of grocery shopping as a vegetarian during my time out West. Walking around Whole Foods and seeing the Coconut Bliss reminded me of a time and place when the vegetarian option was so much more than salad mix and rubbery portobello mushrooms. So really, I was having more of a "Welcome Back" cry. Except that the woman two feet away from me pushing her toddler in a cart, didn't get all that. She saw a crazy, chubby lady having what could only be a psychological meltdown in front of the ice cream section (another sordid game for us fatties). She swerved a good ten feet away from me and all my crazy.