Organic Experience

With us making Riley's baby food, Ryan and I have started shopping at the local natural food store called Ozark Natural Foods.  It started slow with us purchasing the organic produce only.  Then we added beef because it was grass fed and hormone free.  Then it was chicken and eggs.  So now we do a weekly trip there to get half of our groceries, and then we go to Wal-Mart for the other half.  And we're poorer in wealth, but richer in health.   At least, that's what we tell ourselves.

Going into Ozark Natural Foods is intimidating.  First of all, when you pull in the parking lot in your Honda Pilot, you are by far the biggest car in the lot.  The place looks like a Honda Fit convention with some Subarus sprinkled in.  Once you find a spot (which is no small feat) you head inside, careful to grab your reusable shopping bags.  You forgot those one time, and the look the cashier gave you when you had to ask for paper bags still haunts your nightmares.

You grab a shopping cart on the way in.  The shopping carts are teensy.  The size ratio of Ozark Natural Foods shopping carts to Wal-Mart is 3:1.  The store itself is also pretty tiny, so every person's head pops up when you walk in.  On your way to the produce section, you pass by a desk where one employee sits.  Until recently, you weren't entirely sure of his job function except to glare at you with a smug, superior look over his trendy horn-rimmed glasses.  Apparently he can also weigh your jar for the bulk aisle.  Right now, he's just watching and judging.

Now you're in the produce section amongst the shoppers.  It's worth noting here that there are three types of shoppers at ONF:  

1. Granola.  These people have dreadlocks and/or wear Tevas in December and/or wear clothes that are varying shades of wheat.  They may or may not have gauges in their ears.  They shop here because they actually like kale chips and this is the only place in town they can get them. 
2. Rich Witches.  These women are dressed in work out clothes but haven't actually sweated yet.  You can tell this because their hair is styled and they have on makeup and jewelry.  They shop here because it's trendy and they don't have to suffer the people of Wal-Mart.
3. Normal People.  These people are you and me.  If they are new here, they look intimidated - eyes wide, mouths slack.  They have no idea where anything is, and they are overwhelmed with the options.  Who knew there were five different choices of quinoa?  If they aren't new here, they have their heads down and are all business. 

The produce section is eye opening.  The choices in salad greens and sweet potatoes alone are disarming.  And then there are some things that are just unidentifiable.  Like you've never actually seen this veggie in this form before.  Fortunately the staff is there to help you ID which sweet potato is a "normal orange sweet potato," even if they snicker behind your back.

For a while, you avoid every other section of the store.  If you don't know which variety of avocado is normal, how are you going to comprehend the soup aisle, the spice aisle and the dreaded "bulk" aisle? As you're weaving through the meat section, thinking about the poor grass fed cow that was raised just down the road in Greenwood, Arkansas and wondering if you passed him ever in a pasture off the highway, your nine year old asks you, "Mama, what is your favorite store?"  Sort of distracted, you answer "Target!"  That's okay in ONF, right?  Obviously you'd be lying if you said "Ozark Natural Foods" because literal tears are springing to your eyes just because you're so overwhelmed about shopping there.  "Oh, I like Tar-jay too, Mama.  It's my third favorite.  You know what my favorite store is?"

"Um no, Alli, what is it?"  "Toys R Us!"  "Oh, yes, I like Toys R Us."  Which eggs do I get?  Free range?  Cage free?  Certified humane?  ARE THEY SERIOUSLY $20/DOZEN?!  "Do you know what my second favorite store is?"  "No, Alli, what is it?"  Yogurt, yogurt.  Where is the yogurt?  "Wal-Mart!  I just love Wal-Mart!"  SHHHHH, Alli.  Come on.  Everyone is staring.  You said the "W" word!

Embarrassed, you duck your head and keep moving to the checkout.  Rayne, the girl checking you out, asks the question you dread every time.  "Are you an owner?"  No, lady.  I'm not an owner, but I did bring my bags.  Give me my nickel.  You drop the nickel they give to everyone who brings in reusable bags into the charity box and look at the cashier smugly.  

"Mama!  Look, I can see McDonald's from here!"  You turn bright red.  "Mom, no really, there it is.  Can we have it for dinner?  I haven't eaten there this week!  Can we?"  You resist the urge to beeline for the door and abandon your humane eggs and your organic blueberries.  And when you finally make it out of there in one piece, you pat yourself on the back for another week of healthy, if expensive, shopping for your family.  Maybe one day you'll be the pro who is well versed in varieties of quinoa, but today you just celebrate leaving without tears in your eyes.