Dearest Daughters,
I went to Berkeley Bowl for the first time this week. Why hello! There you've been my whole life!
Best, freshest, local-est, organic-est and cheapest produce ever. Bulk organic everything so whales won't get caught in the excess packaging you ordinarily throw into the ocean. Yum dairy. Yum meat and fish. The whole center of the store is all gourmet, import Pricey-ville. But, I don't do much center-of-the-store shopping anyway. And there are actually really great prices for really good things. Your dollar goes further here in terms of value, so you don't leave the checkout line thinking: I spent $50 and have nothing to show for it!
So, here's the thing about Berkeley Bowl: the people.
Stereotype alert.
Now, there are a dizzying array of people who frequent the store. You've got the Cal students, the immigrants shopping the more "exotic" foods and produce bargain bin, which is also where you'll find the hoarder types--you really need five pounds of slimy, moldy cucumbers?--the people who look homeless, the people who are homeless, the list goes on. And yet, there is something all of these people have in common: the East Bay.
My sister lives in Stockton. Not the apex of civilized culture, mind you. She has a friend who also lives in Stockton, a reader who shall not be named, ahem, domidomeonthemicrophone. Said reader also has a sister, who, like me, lives in the East Bay. Do I need to draw a diagram for you?
Anyway, the Central Valley sisters, perhaps disgruntled with living in the armpit of California, are East Bay haters and have coined a phrase, "That's so EB!" Okay, they have good reason! No, we cannot put on mascara before we go out in our yoga pants. And yes, my attachment parenting, baby wearing sling is made from hemp. But, the lining is made of a textile that I wove from goat hair. And, FINE! I own chickens!
Of course, being a resident of the East Bay, I know that the Stockton sisters stereotypes are based mainly on the population of Berkeley with a sprinkling of a few other crazies here and there who got lost and couldn't find their way back on public transit. So, it's really Berkeley we're talking about.
Which brings me back to the people. Despite their differences, they really are all hipster hippies. Yes, there is such a thing. Go to Berkeley Bowl and see for yourself. Pick up some apricots while you're there. To die for.
And, if you're like me, make sure to wear a cute dress made by sweatshop workers in Malaysia, unnecessarily impractical non-vegan platform sandals and drive your obnoxious Mercedes Benz. Otherwise, you might lose yourself and come out of the store barefoot, wearing an alpaca poncho and carrying 20 pounds of flax seed and two gallons of biodegradable shampoo.
Also, somewhat related to hippie hipsters. I give you yuppie hipsters. Or yuppie hippies? Yuppie hippie hipsters? Half a whatever. Just watch this if you've ever been to Whole Foods.
Love,
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