Blog: Ode (in Free Verse) To Lucky Super Market

I live within striking distance of El Cerrito Plaza, home to Trader Joe’s and Lucky Super Market. Trader Joe’s is nearest, and the constant crowds in there bear witness to the fact that TJ’s has a lot to offer. But, alas, its produce offerings do come up one item short. They include no radishes. Lucky, on the other hand, has ‘em, and as often as I’ve walked into that store over the last 23 years (early in the morning or late at night) and glanced to the left toward produce, only one time have I ever failed to see bunches of those bright red little darlins sitting up there against the wall.

I tend to eat radishes instead of chips (which means I eat a lot of them). Moreover, the radishes at Lucky are usually not too sharp, and equal to the ones my Sugar Plum occasionally brings home from the farmers market. Since the price is often under a buck a bunch, I’ll buy four at a time. And for this reason alone Lucky has become one of my oldest and dearest friends. But there is more.

I do appreciate good food, even special food, nicely prepared, and attractively presented, and look forward to such a meal now and then. But on a daily basis food is, for me, simply fuel—that is to say, something I need to acquire in order to tackle the more important things that are constantly staring out at me from my list, and bugging me to do something about them. So when I find food that does the trick I don’t hang up on variety as in, "Oh, I had that yesterday." I’m perfectly content to eat a lot of the same stuff day in and day out.

And here again Lucky comes to the rescue. There I can acquire cans of tomatoes, corn and pinto beans for often less than a dollar each. Then I mix them in a bowl, pour them into a big mason jar, and stick them in the fridge. My Sugar Plum helps matters along by cooking up some brown rice, which she assures me (together with the beans) makes for a good protein. This mix lasts several days and can be adapted to most any meal: breakfast (with an egg), lunch (with radishes), and dinner perhaps with some meat—but don’t count on . While it hasn’t been outlawed everywhere (as in restaurants on federal land) it’s clearly on the slippery slope. 

And then there’s the matter of wine. Even my simple fare benefits from a glass or two of wine now and then, and here again Lucky does not disappoint. Not so long ago it began carrying its own brand of $2 wine from the Fox Brook winery. While I may get an argument out of some connoisseurs, I contend that this wine is at least equal to the wine offered by Charles Shaw (the famous “Two Buck Chuck” against which all other $2 wine is measured). I’ll just bet that after a few good swallows of Fox Brook, you won’t be able to tell the difference. To be fair, do this blindfolded, and be sure to swirl the wine around in the glass a lot. Sniffing it to catch the "nose" is also recommended.

Finally, there’s the matter of cat food. For a fiver I can get 10 cans of cat food (to supplement dry food) with exotic names such as "Mixed Grill" and "Supper Supreme." My cat, , likes it all just fine, to the point where she’ll eat Supper Supreme for breakfast or lunch or actually most anytime at all. And her enthusiasm for her favorite past-time () remains truly awesome, even though she can never quite catch the dot and always loses in the end.

I look at her and realize that she represents a furry little metaphor for my own life. Always eating the same stuff. Always in dubious battle, where an out-and-out win comes hard if at all. But nevertheless continuing to play and enjoy the game.  So bring on your Trader Joe’s and soon your Whole Foods. I’ll stick with Lucky, the "one stop shop" that covers just about all my bases.