There is one small grocery store in the town where we vacation on Penobscot Bay. It carries all the necessities and more. However, sometimes I need the high-end food I serve to my dogs, or I want a fruit or a vegetable that I won’t buy unless it’s organic. Then I have to head into the adjacent city, to shop at the Hanford.
At home, I have a Hannaford conveniently located in my neighborhood. It is a smallish store, maybe 49,000 square feet. The one I shop in on vacation is larger—not as humongous as some supermarkets I’ve been in, but it’s definitely a big one.
I don’t like it.
Yes, it’s like I’ve reverted back in time, to my childhood, when grocery stores were human-sized.
My epiphany came when I drove to the big Hannaford on a hot afternoon. The store was packed, because along with the year-round residents, summer people and tourists who were camping or renting homes also were out shopping. People were testy, maybe because of the heat. I almost collided several times with people who came charging out of side aisles into a main aisle. Isn’t it just common sense that, just like on the road, those in the main aisle have the right of way?
Then, of course, I forgot something that was back where I started my shopping, and I had to retrace my steps. In a small store, this isn’t a problem. In a big store, it’s a drag.
On vacation, I enjoy cooking and eating out on the deck, with its view of the bay. But I didn’t enjoy that shopping experience. I vowed that I would only shop at the little store in town for the rest of our stay—no matter what. I would also be supporting a local business.
(Actually, I didn’t have to be so hard on myself. If I did want something organic or exotic, there is a friendly-sized, locally-owned health food store in the city as well.)
I guess I sound picky, like I’m kind of a foodie, but I’m mostly thinking about my health when I’m grocery shopping. As I’ve written before in this space, I worry about GMOs, pesticides, artificial ingredients and high-fructose corn syrup. But I was ready to take a risk and “make do.”
The small store in our vacation town does carry a number of organic or natural items, such as organic milk and Newman’s Own products. I found Kerrygold butter and a reasonably “clean” iced tea.
And it seems it’s become easier to find items that suit my needs every year. Food producers seem to realize that more and more consumers want organic, natural and healthy food. One example is the breakfast cereal my husband, Paul and I eat—Post Shredded Wheat. This is a mainstream, national brand, yet it is just what it says it is—wheat and bran. As of late, the packaging also notes that it is “non-GMO.”
Small stores are not perfect. My hometown Hannaford can get pretty cramped when it’s busy, and the little grocery in our vacation getaway is hard to maneuver at any time of day. The little grocery provides regular and small carts, but I never try to get the big ones down its narrow aisles.
I don’t find this particularly troublesome, though. The coziness encourages people to smile at each other and say they’re sorry for blocking the way. This is another indication of whether a store is “human-sized.”
Another small-store advantage is the lack of choice. I don’t spend as much time shopping because there aren’t 50 brands to compare. It also takes less time to traverse the aisles.
I have other favorite small stores. There’s an independent bookstore I love in the city that houses the big Hannaford. I always discover new titles there, because the selection is limited. This allows me to explore almost the entire store each time I visit.
We have a hardware store in our neighborhood, part of a regional chain. If you need, say, a specific bolt or screw, you can bring in a sample of what you’re looking for, and a real person will help you find it. You don’t need to look for a salesperson—he or she can be found at the cash register in the middle of the store, or offering you help as soon as you walk in.
This shop carries many of the same items as Home Depot and Lowe’s—just in smaller quantities. For example, you can find paint, canning supplies, bird feeders and food, batteries, potting soil and topsoil, lightbulbs, pet food—as well as all manner of hardware.
It doesn’t sell lumber, but we do have an independent lumberyard in town as well.
Big box stores make our lives easier in the sense that we can check off a bunch of items on our shopping list at the same time. But they also can be stressful, and lack a sense of community.
That’s how I felt on that hot, harried day at the big Hannaford. Shopping there was not a pleasant experience. It was there I decided that I would seek out smaller, cozier, friendlier places whenever I could. I think I’m finally willing to make some compromises to support local businesses and have a better shopping experience.
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