Exploring Wegmans

Today, I went on a journey across the northern neighborhoods of Baltimore to visit the El Dorado of supermarket chains: Wegmans. Although most Wegmans stores are located further up north in Pennsylvania or New York, their corporate strategy department was absolutely astute in extending their services to this part of the States.

[Come to think of it, a lot of chains that centralize in one US region but have "frontier" locations elsewhere tend to be very high-quality. Rockfish comes to mind.]

The first thing I noticed about Wegmans was that it is located inside a shopping center alongside such stores as White&Black and Banana Republic. Now as you all probably know from experience, this is extremely unusual for a supermarket; most are the focal point of smaller strip malls. But the location doesn't seem to detract otherwise busy mall shoppers from dropping by. In fact, Wegmans may have been one of the most crowded markets I've ever been to. Wegmans is so crowded that many people arrive in pairs but shop alone so that their partners can drive up to the front doors and pick up groceries there. As a punishment for not knowing to doing so, I had to park my car a good quarter-mile away.

As I walked inside, I immediately realized why people were so enamored with this place. Wegmans is not a supermarket -- it is a shrine dedicated to the passion of food. Sure, you have all the indicators of quality service: friendly and helpful staff, clean environment, and beautiful displays. But those are not the reasons why Wegmans is great.

First, Wegmans has a zealous dedication to fresh ingredients that is unmatched by any other store, even Whole Foods or Trader Joes. The qualifer here is "fresh" -- rather than adopting the "my shit is holier than your shit because it was made without splicing DNA" attitude, Wegmans takes a more practical approach: giving chefs the best stuff. The ripe avocados here, for instance, are actually ripe and ready-to-guacamolize. Labels on fruits and vegetables disclose not only whether they are organic, but also where they were grown. The great thing is that, unlike at organic specialty stores, you have much more choice over whether to buy organic (I hate this term, by the way -- what's the opposite of organic, inorganic? That makes my fuji apples sound like they're actually alkaline metals). After all, in good cooking, organic is secondary to fresh, and much more expensive.

Second, Wegmans takes this fresh approach a step further by applying it to all products, not just fruits and vegetables. The deli, for instance, adopts the model of those farmers markets where you take a number and make your order upon being called up. The workers slice the meat in front of your eyes and sometimes give you a little extra for the same price. The bakery is the same; goods over a day old are not kept around. Wegmans has some great cafes on hand. Locals (despite the selection bias) are unanimous in saying that Wegmans' sandwiches and soups are the best in the area, and even the pizza shop gets recognition for using wholesome ingredients.

Finally, Wegmans is not only a place to buy great stuff, but also a resource center for those who love cooking. The store offers easy access to recipes and even hosts classes: fine cooking, cooking for busy parents, etc... It also opens until midnight on all days, so late workers and procrastinators can all get their fill.

As an extra, try searching for news on Wegmans. Rather than finding news about robberies or product recalls, you might find out about their alternative energy investments or their general badassery.

I'll be sure to return here, maybe as early as next week. My only other alternatives, anyhow, are not-so-Safeway and re-Tardget. Even though the store is 15 miles away from where I live, the trip was more than worth it.

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Special thanks to Hannah Richardson for telling me about this place!