Crunchy and beautiful

     Okay, give it up for Trader Joe's.
     I admit, I resisted them, for years. First, because I am a Sunset Foods guy — well run, lots of selection, nice staff who I tend to know on a first name basis, starting with jovial pater familias Ron Bernardi, part owner of the chain who nevertheless will still sometimes pitch in, bagging. 
     Second, because I'm a brand guy. I don't want ketchup, no matter how supposedly marvelous, from some esoteric catsup company. I want Heinz Ketchup. I want General Mills Cheerios, not whatever Oaty Os knock off someone is trying to sell. Anything off brand makes me think of those white boxes of generic food we had in the 1970s. Sure, my wife picks up Kirkland olive oil and I will use it in my stir fry. But I'm not happy about it. I don't want to eat chocolates that have the same brand name as batteries.
     Like Costco, Trader Joe's is heavy on store brands. And their graphics were initially sort of cheesy. I remember when the first Trader Joe's promotional materials started showing up at the house, I looked at their low rent, clip art illustrations and thought, "What the heck is this?" 
     But my wife became a fan — they are constantly cycling through their offbeat products, and you never know when one will disappear. I tag along with her, eyeing all the bounty, noting how much of the store is given over to booze and snacks, thinking of that line from The Band's "Up on Cripple Creek" — "A drunkard's dream if I ever did see one."
     Admiration, perhaps, but grudging admiration. Except of course for the free sample — a chunk of cranberry pie last time we were there. What kid doesn't love free samples? Trader Joe's also has the most energetic, pleasant staff imaginable; really, once I almost invited one home for Thanksgiving.

     Still, I held back. Trader Joe's, just not my type. 

     Then I noticed a bag of their Fall Leaf Corn Tortilla Chips. Why? Because the bag was beautiful, the burnt sienna and orange and yellow, the leaf shaped chips. I didn't say a word, but my wife caught whatever psychic signal I was sending out, swept over and grabbed a bag ("I don't have to speak," The Band sings, "she defends me.")
     Normally salty snacks are the one thing I'm armored against. But these I had to try. They just looked so good. And they taste good, are good, complicated chips — with not only white and yellow corn flour, but tomato, carrot and pumpkin powders, along with a "trace of lime." Great with Red Gold salsa.
     She's bought two more bags since then. Yes, the product could vanish at any time, like that blueberry sauce she bought when the boys were small and they all still talk about, the Lost Eden of blueberry sauces. But until then...
     Don't get me wrong. I'd still rather hop on my Schwinn and head to Sunset for a basket full of food. And the Fresh Farms on Milwaukee has my heart, with their Valencia juice oranges — oddly hard to find, even in the affluent North Shore. They also have dozens of different varieties of bulk Russian and Polish candies. Plus — and I love this detail — a little garbage can, always filled with wrappers, as if to say, "Spokojnie, spróbuj jednego. Masz pozwolenie" — sorry, "Go ahead, try one. You have permission."
     And the bread. Don't get me started on the breads baked at Fresh Farms. Worth an entire column. In fact, if I had any sort of confidence that I could actually make it happen, I'd love to walk the aisles of Fresh Farms with its owner, talking about just how incredible the place is.
     Wait, we were talking about Trader Joe's. Sorry. I do get carried away. Fall Leaf Corn Tortilla Chips. Tasty and beautiful. Get 'em while you can.