Run the equator: food
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 24, 2008

Third world prices in America

No-nonsense prices!
Click photo to see slideshow
or here for all those veggies

When I was traveling through South America, seeing the ridiculously low prices of fruits and vegetables I ranted on this site about our own grocery stores back home and the exorbitant prices they charge us for the same stuff. The only possible explanation for this rip-off is that it’s not a rip-off at all: we are subjected to a first-world standard-of-living tax that generously flows into an altruistic aid program that subsidizes the mom-and-pop grocers of the third world. Right?

It turns out that it doesn't have to be this way; the first-world sucker tax is optional. Upon our return, Angela has been struck by a sudden, lasting attack of anal-retentiveness and decided that grocery shopping needs to be done by a meticulous plan which will result in significant savings. Thus, for the last few months we have been shopping at the “Asian” grocery markets in the International District. I mean “Asian” in the blatant “most people who work there look vaguely Chinese” way. In those nondescript stores along and behind Jackson Street you can find not only the familiar fruits and vegetables sold by the ubiquitous Fred Meyer, Safeway or QFC, but also others that may require an advanced course in exotic foods before you can figure out what to do with them. The quality is nothing to balk at but the prices are the best part – everything is much cheaper than at the mainstream chain grocery stores. You spend 10 bucks and go out with three full bags. I took some pictures of their convincing price tags – and these are winter prices; in summer, the numbers are half.

Cheap stuff for tightwads

Unless these guys get all their produce straight from China like Walmart or grow them in their basement closets under halogen light bulbs year-round they would have to buy from the same producers like the big stores. They charge lower prices and obviously manage to stay in business and survive the tough competition. This begs the question, why don’t the major stores sell at comparable prices? The answer is, beyond any economic theory bullshit, because they can. For a variety of reasons, the average white American doesn't shop in Chinatown. If you live in the suburbs you have no choice or you just don’t know better – the Asian groceries are confined to a 5-block stretch along Jackson Street, a small and not too interesting neighborhood south of downtown. However the backbone of the American nation, the soccer moms and baseball dads of Seattle, don’t shop in the I.D. because the place is obviously unclean, unhygienic, unsafe and full of foreigners with dreadful accents, who might as well be terrorists. That leaves the minorities, a handful of liberal hippies and the expert-level white people who – like me – have embraced ethnic diversity. Of course, only as long as it comes to cheap food.

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Monday, July 30, 2007

In steak heaven!

Salta's Franciscan church
Click on pic to see slideshow
or here to access the set

"Travel days" are hallucinating tracts of time when for countless hours in a row we move from one point of our trip to the next. Getting from Tupiza, Bolivia to Salta, Argentina was one of those incredibly long days, during which the uncomfortable naps you take while being on board of a vehicle don't really count against the innumerable waking hours. It started when we woke up at a quarter to three to pack our bags and catch a southbound train that was supposed to leave at 4:10AM but in fact left with half hour of delay.

Three hours later we arrived in the freezing high-altitude (again...) town of Villazon and crossed the border to La Quiaca on foot, refusing all the transportation deals the touts at the railway station were offering us at overinflated prices (and we rightly did so; the prices on the other side were better). The Argentine border officer probably hadn't seen a Romanian passport in his life so he took a while trying to figure out what to do with it and whether I needed a visa or not, but in the end he stamped the 90 days stay and we moved on.

Interior of the cathedral

There are two things that strike the traveler after crossing the border between Argentina and Bolivia: on the Argentinian side there are newer cars, and the highways are paved. Going south on the slow downward slope of the Altiplano by bus was quite easy and comfortable and in 5 hours we made it to San Salvador de Jujuy, a larger town of which we only saw the bus terminal and the sandwich stand outside.

A mere one hour away in a very comfortable, bladder-friendly bus is Salta, a big old colonial town of 400,000 inhabitants. It was 6PM when we arrived, but once we did civilization struck us hard, and did so in the most favorable manner: by way of good food. Strolling on the Balcarce street we discovered the wonderful "La Leñita" restaurant which treated us with the best steaks I can honestly say I have ever had. The food was so good that after a less successful dinner attempt in a different restaurant the next night, we got back to La Leñita the third evening to revel in devouring tender, juicy beef cuts again. We have had steak for dinner every night since we got into this country...

We didn't do much for the rest of our time in Salta, besides strolling to the city center and back, lingering at sidewalk cafes, checking out some bookstores and eating well. Very well. So well... Ah!

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