Whaaaa? You'd never been to Central Market before?
No. I hadn't. Moving on.
So, Adam and I had heard all about this Central Market. So, instead of hitting up our regular grocery store nearby, we loaded up the boys and journeyed to the Central Market.
Along with eleventy billion other people. We had to park in the next zip code, people. This is ridiculous.
So, after hiking across a sun-scorched desert, we made our way into the Central Market. Here we are! And here you are, America. Elbowing your way through the produce section. Because that's where we all were...funneled into the produce section like a bunch of carp, flailing about trying to grab the last head of romaine lettuce before we are made into canned tuna.
You must all make your way through the produce section before you are admitted entry into the MEATS! Yes, the meats. Where lines of people wait for their precious number to be called so that they can grab a pound of meat. Nay, not meat. Cows...that were fed sweet corn. Not just any sweet corn! No. Organic sweet corn. These cows were spoon-fed organic sweet corn while a little old lady sang lullabies to them. These cows were nestled into 100% organic cotton blankets, made in Peru. These cows were brushed with hemp leaves and fed peeled grapes. And now you must wait in line to eat their meat, America! A long line.
After you get your special magic meat in the special butcher (no, butcher is too harsh. I call him a ministerial assistant to the circle of life), you are funneled into the wines. Ah, row after row of wine and special fancy beers and fancy breads, too! At this point, I was whining to Adam. This is too much, I said. Too much. Suddenly, a Central Market employee appeared to my left. From whence did she come? Who knows! But there she suddenly was, beside me. Making sure that I was finding everything okay. Suspicious. Was she was dispatched to deal with the dissatisfied customer? If I had made a scene would she have taken me to the back where they keep the happy cows? I dared not to make a scene nor utter a complaint.
After the beer/wine/bread, we are funneled into the aisles of the grocery store. This should sound familiar, no? Well, it SHOULD. But it is far from familiar. There are like, maybe four aisles. Listen, people. If you are looking to fulfill your shopping needs for a family of four, do not go to the Central Market. Because you'll be looking for the Honey Nut Cheerios and the Central Market will not carry those. Instead they will have delicious O's of Barley and Soy or some other nonsense.
Overall, I was in a foul mood. I mean, I would definitely enjoy your beloved Central Market on a date night with my husband. The prepared foods look delicious and you can buy all kinds of fancy cheese and exotic tofurkeys and the produce is nice. But if you have prepared a weekly menu of super fancy food for your family using wholesome ingredients like one can of Rotel and Craisins or one can of cream of mushroom soup, then you should just go to a regular old grocery store.
I spent more than I had budgeted and I left without all my needed items purchased. So, someone bring me M&M's to give Henry when he tee-tees or poops on the potty and I might feel better about the Central Market. Because, the Central Market does not carry M&M's. No, they carry Wholesome Kernels of Organic Cocoa-Covered Black Beans.
