In this installment of Sass & Balderdash Investigates, I go undercover for a lurid exposé on the Shop & Save Market, a grocery store chain unlike any other supermarket chain in the Chicagoland area.
When a Shop & Save location first opened not far from where I live, I assumed it would be like any other supermarket chain, comparable to Jewel, Dominick’s, or Cub Foods, but Shop & Save is the most “unique” grocery store I’ve ever shopped at—and I’ve been to Trader Joe’s. You’d never guess by its name (unlike the rival supermarket Kolacky & Pierogi that doesn’t exist yet), but this grocery store caters largely to its Polish customer base, which for some reason means doing things differently than virtually every other grocery store.
Historically, coming in third after those of Irish and German heritage, people of Polish ancestry account for one of the largest European groups to settle in Chicago. Their influence is undeniable: how many other states do you know of that celebrate Casimir Pulaski Day? Not to mention, one out of every five Toyota Corollas you see on the road has a Highlander decal on it. As much as I can appreciate Polish holidays and bumper stickers (and let’s not forget paczki), I must admit that doing my grocery shopping at Shop & Save is intimidating, overwhelming, and confusing.
Shop & Save’s website makes it out to be your average grocery store:
Shop & Save is a well know and trusted name among grocery chains in and around Chicago. Our corporate and service reputation is based on 7 years of experience as an established retail food business. We provide our customers the freshest in high quality domestic and imported products with an emphasis on health and nutrition. We proudly provide a variety of delicious Polish products for both discerning shoppers as well as those who wish to savor the tastes of Polonia.
It’s because of Shop & Save’s well know status that I feel pressured to figure out once and for all whether I fall under the category of a discerning shopper or someone who wants to savor the tastes of Polonia. I’m leaning toward discerning shopper, because most recently I ventured into Shop & Save because they had Skippy peanut butter for 99 cents, a sale that my mother informs me is a once-in-a-lifetime bargain.
In the event of a zombie apocalypse, if you need the type of peanut butter that’s more nut than butter, I got you.
Shop & Save seems to do things differently than most other businesses/grocery stores, which means either their business acumen is more astute, or they’re just doing it wrong; I’ll let you be the judge.
For instance, when most business establishments have a faulty door they don’t want you to use, typically they’ll put a sign on the broken door to deter you from trying to use it when you approach. At Shop & Save, they request that you use the revolving door by putting the sign on the revolving door, which in my opinion is some Alice in Wonderland shit.
Wait, what?
It’s also reassuring that Shop & Save does not allow concealed weapons, because I’ve gotten into some arguments in the produce section (usually about whether tomatoes are technically fruits or vegetables) that could have easily escalated to an old school duel.
When you walk into Shop & Save, the first thing you notice is the American flag and Polish flag proudly hanging side by side in an esteemed display of grocery store diplomacy, but your admiration can only last for a minute or two before you get distracted by how creepily organized all the fruit is.
How is this possible?
Not to mention, there’s an entire aisle devoted to more pear breeds than really needs to exist. (If you like eating many varieties of pears, allow me to introduce you to some other fruits like apples, oranges, grapes, and nectarines. You don’t have to live this way.)
This many pears should not exist.
To commit to this investigation, I went over to the deli area, fully intending to take a number and immerse myself in this experience, but I chickened out when I saw more than five older Eastern European ladies wearing babushkas whose various body types made them look like living Russian nesting dolls, all waiting to get a half-pound of Krakus ham. The deli counter employees were calling the numbers only in Polish, and I felt like if I had to ask them what number they were calling in English, I’d be ostracized as one of those disdainful ethnocentric shoppers, so I just moved on.
What’s perhaps the most troubling about Shop & Save is the way they’ve organized their aisles. There seems to be no logic to the way they’ve grouped their items. For example, I would never think to look for flowers in the same aisle with the pickles, honey, dressings, and jams/jellies.
Flowers and jams? That makes sense.
Likewise, I would never assume that the overpriced shovels would be found between the energy drinks and assorted religious candles, but given the weather we’ve had in Chicago this winter, this may actually be a pretty accurate statement. I also wouldn’t have figured an assorted religious candle would cost me the same as a bottle of Powerade. More alarming still, apparently Polish people overwhelmingly prefer orange Powerade to any other flavor.
Note the similarities among the allegedly “assorted” religious candles
This may be a personal failing, but if there are three countries whose food exports completely beguile me, it’d be Croatia, Bulgaria, and Macedonia, and I guess aisle 8 is just a mystery aisle…
Oh, um.
…that has what I assume to be the Polish equivalent of Teddy Grahams.
I guess anthropomorphism is a little behind in Europe. I would rather my edible bears have a neck than a belly button.
I think the grocery store interior designer responsible for the aisle arrangement of Shop & Save may have been abusing bath salts when he or she designed the floor plan for this location. Generally, grocery stores aisles are a uniform length with one wide aisle running perpendicular through all the other aisles. Please see the graphic below:
This is supposed to be an aerial view of grocery store aisles, but I think it’s really just an affirmation of my English degree.
At Shop & Save, the aisles are a little different:
Not to mention, in most other supermarkets my mom has dragged me to/I’ve bought secret M&Ms at in my lifetime, the hanging aisle signs designating the aisle number and goods found within the aisle are found near one of the ends of the aisle. This placement allows you the freedom to to read the board and locate the items you need from either the center perpendicular aisle or the open areas outside of the aisle entrances.
At Shop & Save, all the aisle signs are hanging from the middle aisle, which means you have no choice but to retreat to the outer surrounding aisle area just to figure out where you need to go (which is hard enough as it is because none of the groceries are grouped sensibly). This is made all the more treacherous by Shop & Save’s decision to allow their end-caps to extend a different distance for each aisle.
Just trying to find the baked goods…
Despite it’s deals and steals, I don’t think Shop & Save has what it takes to establish Polish supermarket supremacy until it addresses its many organizational and ideological missteps. If they didn’t have such good sales, and if the person who gave me life didn’t ask me to make multiple trips there to buy cheap peanut butter, I wouldn’t go there—mostly because I never want to see this image again:
I assume this is an ad for a freelance Polish villain.
