The rainier cherries were $12/lb, and the fava beans were nowhere to be found. The bananas, if not overripe, were also not organic. In fact, the organic produce was limited in general, and grossly expensive. It was the fanciest grocery store near my apartment, and it was tiny and woefully under-stocked. The local farmers’ markets were great, but I could not deal with the limitations of having to shop on two specific days a week, with cash only. I needed a serious change. I needed to join the Coop.
I’m one of those free-range-organic-local-fair-trade freaks. I love to cook, and I love to eat. I needed a grocer that could accommodate all these needs. I also love being involved with my community, and I try to support local farmers and businesses. Me and the Brooklyn foodie scene are simpatico. The Park Slope Food Coop was renown – before I moved to New York, I had heard about it, but, living a mile away, I felt it was too far to walk carrying groceries. How silly and short-sighted that thought was.
After moving closer, into Park Slope, and being exasperated by my regular grocery, I decided to sign up for the Coop, which was easier said than done. Just getting a slot in an orientation was akin to buying a ticket for Lady Gaga at Madison Square Garden. Sitting at my computer on an early morning two weeks before the orientation, I had multiple windows open in my browser, poised to sign up the moment the space opened up. My absurd vigilance paid off, and two weeks later I was in an orientation, signing up for my work slot. Along with me were proto-members from all over New York City – South Brooklyn, Tribeca, the Upper West Side. Our instructor told us she once had a man from Maine join the Coop. Maine is 470 miles from the Coop.
I am convinced that the Park Slope Food Coop is the only place on the planet where pure Socialism actually worked. Everyone has to work if they shop there. However, the gulag it is not. Less than three hours a month will get you in, and the jobs range from weighing cheese to being a cashier to being a bike valet. I chose to work on the childcare team. Because the Coop offers free childcare to shoppers or workers. This is how commerce should work, people. Put down the cheapest member fee of all time - $125 (of which $100 is refundable upon quitting), work a few hours a month, and reap the rewards of the most inexpensive, delectable grocery of all time. It barely marks up its foods from wholesale prices: 21% versus 50-100% at regular groceries. It has every ingredient under the sun, including many I have never seen in a grocery. Edible lavender, anyone? And it is staffed by 16,000 of my member-neighbors, who could not be friendlier. I am hooked.
I schlep my shopping cart the mile to the Coop (or bike), immerse myself in the cornucopia of organic, socialist goodness, pay a pittance on my way out, and then I curse the rest of the world for not working this way. But now I wonder: does the rest of the world work this way?
What are your local cooperatives?
What would you do to satisfy your Foodie whims?
Would you become a Socialist for cheaper celery?
Image via BKLYN guy's Flickr