Great Reading » By Peter Alduino » Let's Leave, They're Only $1.50 at Safeway

Let's Leave, They're Only $1.50 at Safeway

By Peter Alduino

If you are fortunate enough one day to drive along the central coast of California between Santa Cruz and Monterey, you will pass field upon field of tall, thick stalked, thistle leaved, some say prehistoric-looking spiny plants supporting professional-boxer-fist-sized vegetables which are poetically known as the vegetable of passion, the food of nobility, and the thistle of love – the California artichoke. Artichokes are one of the oldest foods known to man. They are said to be aphrodisiacs. They were first cultivated for food in the Mediterranean basin thousands of years ago.[1] Early plantings were made in North America by French settlers in Louisiana and brought to California by Italians late in the 1800s.[2]

Castroville lies at mid-point along the central California coast between Santa Cruz and the city of Monterey. This small town, population 6,724 (2000 census), claims to be the “artichoke capital of the world.” In 1949, in Castroville, Marilyn Monroe was crowned the first official “California Artichoke Queen.” Settled by the Spanish, and planted by Italian immigrants, Castroville is now largely populated by Mexican-Americans and Mexican farm workers who cultivate and harvest nearly four million artichokes from the Monterey region every year.

Pezzini’s 100 acre farm straddles the coastal highway along the Monterey Peninsula, one mile or so south of Castroville. A nine-foot high green plywood artichoke gives direction to Pezzini Farms roadside grocery – take exit 414A. It’s not remarkable. Just an old, grey clapboard barn. Yet, it’s entirely unique.

In the back, wooden crates four feet on a side and four feet deep overflow - artichokes. Out front where I poke around, artichokes are heaped into bins sorted and priced by size – I’m sure there is some official agricultural formula by weight or girth or something. To me it looks like: xs, s, m, l, xl, xxl, xxxl.

If you can’t wait to get home, you can buy an xxl freshly steamed artichoke right there, (or deep fried artichoke hearts) and as much dipping sauce as you like – home-made, lemon-dill or garlic-mayo or both. It’s a whole meal. There are a couple of picnic tables just out front, too.

So, last week, as I was finishing up the last bite of my artichoke heart, a 60-something couple drove up to the front of the stand, parked, got out. The couple poked around the stand for a couple of minutes, the husband following in the footsteps of his wife. She closely examined the bins of different sized and priced artichokes – starting with the “xs” priced at $0.79 each, and moving down the line to the “xxxl” at $1.99. Perhaps no more that 5 minutes into their visit, she paused, turned to her husband, and insisted, “Let’s leave. They’re only $1.50 at Safeway.” They got back in their car, and drove off.

Lady, get a grip. Look around you.

You’re in the heart of artichoke country. These green goddesses are right out of the field. No delay, no storage, no refrigeration, no color-enhancing spray. Look at the size of these babies. Look how fresh they are.

Lady, take a deep breath. You made a detour off the highway to get here. Take a moment to relish the moment, the scene, the absolute uniqueness of this place. Look around you. Look at what’s on these shelves: artichoke sauce, artichoke paste, artichoke spread, artichoke dip, artichoke salsa, artichoke marinade. Most of these are made, mixed, and bottled within a few miles of here. All of the ingredients are grown here. We’ve got a whole cottage industry of Mexican men and women who are cooking up a family recipe or two, packaging them, and taking a chance. There’s no way you’re going to find this at Safeway, even if an artichoke is only a buck fifty.

At least, that’s what I was shouting at her in my mind, as she drove away.

What has happened in this woman’s life, or in any of our lives, that she or we should not pause for a moment and wonder at the uniqueness of such a place as Pezzini’s? Is our world so caught up in commoditization that we are blind to character? What has so numbed this woman to the “wonder-filled ,”that she can so easily ignore the nobility of the natural and “nature-filled?” Her so-easy dismissal of the beauty of the surroundings with an economical, “let’s leave, they’re only $1.50 at Safeway,” opened the gates to a whole cascade of thought – thoughts about our role as co-creators of the world we live in, and the world we want to live in as we grow older: how did she get to that point? how might we get to that point? and, what are the broader implications?

Let me share my thoughts.

Find the best deal. Minimize cost.

That seems to be the mantra that pervades our way of thinking when it comes to money.

For the individual: Be an informed consumer, a good budgeter, a wise spender.

For the publicly held company: Maximize shareholder value.

For our elected: Put more money into the pockets of those who earned it.

Bottom line: Keep more for ourselves.

And it makes logical sense, I guess.

It makes logical sense, I guess, to seek out the best deal.

It makes logical sense, I guess, to keep more for ourselves to use at another time.

It make logical sense, I guess, in a world where the consumer hungers for, indeed, fiercely pursues lowest-cost.

But, perhaps, what makes logical sense, what make senses in our heads, might make less sense if we pause to consider the real cost – the real cost that a “lowest-price logic” exacts from the fabric of our communities.

Pezzini’s farm and grocery are part of the fabric of the Monterey landscape. Their small 100 acre artichoke patch has been part of the community for …. years. I’m hoping they will be around for years and decades to come, so that you and I and a thousand more like us may stop there on a visit to this part of the world, and enjoy a humongous freshly-steamed artichoke right out of the fields.

In the broader context, Pezzini’s farm and grocery is each of our local mom and pop entrepreneurs whose businesses are part of the fabric of our own communities. Fabric that is woven by people who live in the community. Fabric that uses materials that are grown and created in the community. Fabric that has the taste and flavor and smell and texture of the community. Fabric that we can wrap around ourselves, and feel in community with one another. Fabric that we can wrap around ourselves, and feel at home.

Pezzini’s farm and grocery is each of our local mom and pop entrepreneurs whose businesses are personal expressions of creativity and courage, and whose survival is almost entirely dependent on us – the community. 

Pezzini’s farm and grocery is each of our local mom and pop entrepreneurs whose businesses offer us an oasis of uniqueness and personality in a world mounded with food and furniture and clothing and coffee that all seems to come out of the same variety of molds. They offer us a taste of natural, no-artificial flavor in a world dominated by corporate formulation and chemical-infusion. They offer us an encounter with robust authenticity – albeit sometimes rough around the edges. And yes, at Pezzini Farms, chances are that an artichoke will cost more than it does at a Safeway.

Chances are, the smaller guys will never be able to compete on price with the bigger guys.  Such is the law in an economies-of-scale world.

Chances are, our communities will increasingly include the cookie-cutter coffee café, the big box builder, the fast-food franchise, the bank branch, the chain store, the supermarket, the mega-mart and the big bookstore whose name begins with a “B”. Stocked, supported and sometimes subsidized by suppliers and shippers originating from places unknown, these better-financed, lower-priced, reliable, predictable, formula-perfected purveyors are and always will provide products that we need and want, at prices that we can afford. And let us be thankful.

But, chances are the bigger guys will never be able to compete with the smaller guys on personality. Chances are the bigger guys will never buy and never stock the pricier, proudly-crafted, local cottage industry products that you’ll find only with the small guys. Such is the larger guy’s limitations in an economies-of-scale world.

Chances are the large enterprises can and will leverage their largeness to the disadvantage of the local entrepreneur in a “let’s leave, it’s only $1.50 at Safeway” world. Such is the risk to the local entrepreneur in an economies-of-scale world. But so too is our risk and the real cost to our communities of “lowest-price logic.”

If we liken our communities to patchwork quilts with each store, each shop, each street vendor; each merchant, each market, each mom and pop shop; each Safeway, each Star Market, and each Shop-and-Save; each mini-mart and each mega-mart; each small guy and each big guy; each a colorful, exciting, lively and vibrant patch contributing to the texture and warmth and uniqueness of our communities, then, we need them all. ALL.

So, let us be mindful of the world, of the communities that we want to co-create and support and inhabit. If we value the texture that our proud proprietors and privately-owned mom and pop shops contribute to our communities, let us choose to channel our purchasing power in their direction. Not all, perhaps, but some. Not all of the time, perhaps, but some of the time – routinely, regularly. Not because you have to, but because you care to.

My fear is that unless we each take personal responsibility to care for the unique and colorful mom and pop shops, our vibrant patchwork will become more and more monotone. My fear is that unless we regularly act to support our local entrepreneurs, ALL that will remain will be the bigger, the less expensive. And we will all eventually, and with much regret, find ourselves living in communities that looks and feels pretty much like the next (and the next, and the next, and the next) - wrapped in a quilt that is manufactured by a publicly-held machine, not knitted and knotted and stitched and sewn by human hands in the heart of our community. We might all eventually find ourselves wrapped in a fabric that keeps us clothed, but, somehow, provides little warmth.

So, what to do?

We can be grateful. We can be grateful to the men and women who have the creativity and courage to strike out on their own - to the men and women who have the strength to start up, to struggle, to sweat the small stuff, to stretch their resources – to the men and women who lack deep pockets and deficit protection. We can choose to freely and frequently and gratefully pay a premium to our local entrepreneurs as a purposeful and intentional investment in their survival - as a purposeful and intentional investment in the composition, color and quality of the quilt that we call home. We can decide not to assess the price of uniqueness as a cost, not to have it weigh on us as an expense. Instead, we can decide to treat the premium we pay to our courageous mom and pops as an investment – an investment in supporting the patches of our community that we can’t and won’t find anywhere else - patches of fun and flavor and favorite spots -  patches of home grown, home spun and home-made - patches that give our world punch and personality and pizzazz – patches that save us from sameness, warm our spirits and sooth our souls.

We’ll have less money to spend on other goods and services. I’ll have less for me. You’ll have less for you. It doesn’t make logical sense. It doesn’t make logical sense, I guess, if we believe that we are using up money that we could have saved, and used another day. But, I’m not thinking that way. I’m thinking that the premium is a small investment in “another day.”

I’m thinking that on another day, 5 month or 10 years from now, I’ll still pass by exit 414A on the coastal highway, and I’ll still see that nine-foot high green plywood artichoke pointing the way to Pezzini Farms. I’m thinking that I’m investing now, so that on another day, I will still sit down at the picnic bench, and I will still eat an artichoke right out of the field – even if someone else still insists, “Let’s leave, they’re only $1.50 at Safeway.”