The Mad, Mad world of our urban markets

Story by Richard Sebastian; illustrations by Ralph Paine

You live, you eat. There are no simpler rules in life, except perhaps the one about breathing. Forget the ones about handbill posting, organized dog fights or loitering near a Catholic girls’ school. You live, you eat…

If you live in the Fan, you eat courtesy of local Fan markets. Which is fantastic during those early, formative years as college student: kaboodles of Ooodles of Noodles, all the Kraft and Richfood brand macaroni ‘n’ cheese you can eat, frozen pizza. Then you start craving tabouli, or ricotta cheese or fresh produce. Then, you have what Hadrian would call a dilemma.

But he had enough sense to build a wall of stone. It stopped invaders.

You, on the other hand, would settle for convenience. You want a wall of food. One that will stop your stomach from growling.

Next stop, the market…

The formative years may be over, but you still live in the Fan. You don’t have a car, or maybe need just one more item for that eggplant casserole. Who you gonna call? A local Fan market, of course.

Like all small businesses, the markets scattered throughout the Fan reek of personality. They also are proponents of the hit-and-miss theory of grocery shopping and customer service. It’s a strange shopping experience for most Richmonders when the fresh-faced clerk doesn’t carry the groceries to the car, when “plastic or paper” isn’t uttered. But can Ukrop’s get you Mad Dog in a variety of fruity flavors? Can Ukrop’s sell you hair braids? Does Ukrop’s sell souse loaf? (Yes, and they’ll slice it to order. Just ask at the deli counter.)

As Caffeine examines the markets that make the Fan as treacherous a place to shop as the Straits of Hormuz were to navigate during the 80s, we ask readers to remember the other rules: Shop smart. Don’t refreeze meats. Steaming retains vitamins.

Ukrops

We start with the powerhouse, not technically in the Fan, yet essential to it. Familiar with the inner workings of the happy, personable shopping retailer, Caffeine issues a word of caution: look beyond the smiles. Forget postal workers, Ukrop’s employees are more likely to take a human life than most.

The Grocery Store

An obvious bias exists now that K has bleached her hair and let it grow out. Goodbye to the day when shoppers could choose between the Ghetto Safeway and Safeway International.

Prices Market

Price’s Market is located on Strawberry Street, between Park and Stuart, on a block that serves as an important artery for Fan dwellers. It is important for three reasons: the laundromat, the video store and the market, essentials for the young, hungry and dirty.

There is really just one rule to know before stepping into Price’s: avoid the produce. Unless, of course, you have a recipe that requires moldy squash and dark brown lettuce.

But fresh produce has never been Price’s strong point. What Price’s does excel at is being the city’s ultimate beer run. The refrigerator cases are heaped with a fantastic variety of beers, from the watery domestics to the little known microbrews and imports. They’ve even converted their deli into a beerstock pit stop. Getting a case of Yuengling? Grab a pickle. Your friends may laugh at you, but haven’t they always been shallow and closeminded?

Be sure to check out their impressive selection of wines and champagne, as well as the bottles of Cisco behind the counter. Is that stuff for sale?

If you are especially claustrophobic, you should avoid Price’s, especially on Friday and Saturday nights. A rabbit warren has more elbow room. But that only adds to its wacky and eccentric charm.

As does the foot thick dust that blankets the store. Wipe it off and eat hearty.

Also, if you need vacuum cleaner bags, here’s the place.

You probably get the occasional hankering for deviled crab. We all do. Like almost all of the markets in the Fan, Price’s can satisfy that hankering need.

Fan Market

The Fan Market is the closest thing the Fan has to a grocery store. It looks like a grocery store. It even has automated belts by the cash registers, even though they are never used. Unfortunately, the Fan Market is located directly across the street from Buddy’s on Robinson and Stuart, so the store is usually filled with blonde, young, drunk undesirables.

But the Market is redeemed by the fact that it is the home of lunch tongue. Also, Little Debbie fan’s will be thrilled at the cornucopia of snack treats displayed right inside the front door. I’ve known people who browse for hours by this one-of-a-kind goody collection.

Zahras Fine Foods

Zahra’s is located on the greasy inner middle of Oregon Hill, south of the Expressway on Idlewood. Posted over the front door is a handwritten sign that warns “Consumption of food and beverages is strictly prohabitated.” Another sign inside the store pronounces beatifically “Thank You For Shopping” and I realize, yes, that is what I am doing...Shopping!

As you would expect, Zahra’s caters to it’s local patrons: Oregonian Hillers. The beer is cheap, cold and plentiful and the cigarettes are readily available. There is also an entire aisle the length of the store stacked with what appears to be a metric ton of dog food. No doubt, this is to supplicate the roving hordes of semi-wild dogs that roam the area.

Zahra’s also boasts an Air Freshener Center, chock full of spice scented cardboard pine trees. For some reason the Air Freshener Center also had a “5 Minute Adult Disguise” for the practical joker.

The back wall of Zahra’s displays the entire 1994 NASCAR race schedule. They also carry deviled crab.

Stafford Market

Across from Not Bettys along a drab almost post-industrial section of Main Street lies the Stafford Market. This Asian-owned store strives for simplicity. There are two aisles inside, neatly stocked with basic snack essentials. The deli case in the rear is refreshingly unpretentious. You won’t find wheels of gourmet cheese or thinly sliced Lite hams. What you will find is a mouthwatering selection of heart clogging goodies. Pork jowl, ground sausage, hot dogs, liverwurst and something called souse loaf.

Stafford Market also caters to wine connoisseurs with their colorful display of Mad Dog wines. Not only is Mad Dog available in its grape form, it also comes in a variety of other fruit forms, including kiwi and strawberry.

Don’t be dismayed if you are in desperate need of a hairpiece for a special evening out on the town. Pop into the Stafford mart, where the clerk will assist you in finding the appropriate braid. The black plastic wrapped “Silky Jumbo” looked quite smashing. Or maybe try the “Mon Ami” for that carefree, European look.

Oh, yes. Stafford Market also carries deviled crab.

Shields Market

There is no deviled crab available at Shields’ Market, which lies across from Joe’s Inn on Shields Avenue. Maybe that is because Shields’ doesn’t peddle the typical wares of other markets. It doesn’t cater to the mere shopper, but to the shopper of wisdom. The Shields’ experience is a transcendental one.

Strolling down the narrow aisles to the peaceful strains of the sitar, one is invited to contemplate a yellow box of cornstarch, or consider the baked beans. One searches not for dinner, but for meaning. Everything in Shields’ is connected, everything is One.

Shoppers with political convictions should visit the produce bin, which should please any dedicated hunger striker. 3 limes, 7 apples, 1 onion and a small box of dusty taters. Slim picken’s indeed. Enough to fortify even the most weak-willed fasters.

Across from the wooden wine display, there are framed devotionals for the spiritually oriented shoppers. One poignantly reads:

You are invited to come and dine with me
From now through all eternity
Believe in Father Son and Holy Ghost
And dine with Jesus as your host
To live in Heaven eternally
All you must do is…
R.S.V.P.

Lombardy Market

Beside Bogart’s Restaurant on Lombardy Street sits The Lombardy Market, whitewashed and well-lit, looking quite like an old timey grocery. There is a wooden bench outside and if you push the drunken homeless man aside, sit down, ignore the speeding traffic and the college student vomiting over the balcony across the street, you feel as if you have travelled back in time, to a simpler era.

Take a step inside. At first, the Lombardy Market looks like any other Fan market. The roar of refrigerated cases fills the air, and the shelves are stocked with the usual staples. But take time to notice the vintage signs displayed on the walls: Morton’s Salt, Camel cigarettes, Old Mansion Coffee.

As you stroll down the aisles, past the wine case and the imported beers, you hear something calling out to you. Is it a ghost from days gone by? Is this place haunted?

You are drawn to the deli case near the front of the store and the voices become louder, more insistent, pleading. No, they aren’t ghosts. The voices are made by the little pie slices behind the glass, like puppies in a pet store window, begging to be taken home. It is difficult to choose, they all look so good and fresh, perched upon their Styrofoam plates.

And then you notice something else, to the right, like old dead friends: a metal bowl full of deviled crabs.

You’ve come home again.

The Marketplace

The Marketplace lies one block south the Lombardy Market in a historic building that features scenes from Mother Goose on the front window and inside, on the wallpaper. The Marketplace is like a big walk-in soda machine. There are beverages everywhere. There are pints of Pete’s Wicked Ale on the snack shelf, bottles of Snapple with the dry goods, six-packs of imported beer in the aisles, sodas everywhere.
It’s a cozy store, small with dark wooden antique shelves and carpet runners along the aisles.

The Marketplace has suffered from the intense local competition for deviled crab. The owner says he no longer carries it.