You Aren't What You Eat
Fresh Fields sells the myth of a better world, one overpriced vegetable at a time.
Cover Story
Fresh Fields sells the myth of a better world, one overpriced vegetable at a time.
Illustrations by Michael Kupperman
This week, Fresh Fields will begin construction on a new store planned for P Street, between 14th and 15th Streets NW, not two blocks from my house. Theoretically, I should be thrilled with this development. It's the first major new store to open off riot-scarred 14th Street in 30 years, and compared with the neighborhood's current grocery store options, it looks like a godsend. Right now, I have the choice of shopping at the P Street Metro Supermarket, where the dusty perishables cohabitate with gallon jugs of Gallo and the operating hours often fluctuate unpredictably.
Or I can muscle my way into the infamous Soviet Safeway at 17th and Corcoran Streets NW, instead. This small, cramped operation offers painfully long lines at any hour, and the store is so small and so busy that by 6 p.m. on a weekday, the produce section looks like the sale tables at Macy's the day after Christmas. Lettuce is shredded, cucumbers are picked over, and the seafood counter is just a vat of ice. The patrons are remarkably civil, having grown used to the routine, but the half-hour I spent in the express lane last week buying a bag of dog food was insufferable.... Continued
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