When I first moved to London, a friend of mine gave me some good advice: “Notice things now, while they’re still strange.” All too soon, London ceased to be alien and exotic; it became, simply, the place where I live. I missed the sensation of vague disorientation, of living in a strange land whose customs are not quite my own.
Fortunately, I recently discovered a place where I can once again feel like a foreigner: the United States of America.
On a recent trip back home, I found myself staggered by the sheer size of Ralph’s supermarket. It’s was the same Ralph’s I had often visited when I lived in Los Angeles, but now it seemed as vast and unpopulated as the prairies. And the cookie dough! In London, if I want to eat Toll House cookies, I must arrange to have chocolate chips shipped in from the US, and then spend an hour mixing and baking. But in the promised land of America, you could actually buy pre-made cookie dough. And not just one kind: there was chocolate chip, and chocolate chocolate, and oatmeal, and chocolate oatmeal, and chocolate fudge oatmeal chocolate chip. And in case that was not choice enough, you could purchase any one of these varieties in one of several different brands. I could vaguely remember a time when I, too, could walk to my local store and purchase these wondrous concoctions, but the memory was distant and slightly painful, like the phantom itching of a long-lost limb.
I loaded my shopping cart with items that are non-existent, rare, or vastly overpriced in the UK: Pert Plus Dandruff Shampoo, Lactaid Dairy Supplements, Cold-eeze Zinc Tablets. When I checked out, and paid the cashier, she handed me back a handful of coins and bills, and I stood blinking at this unfamiliar currency. One coin in particular puzzled me. It was about the size of a one-pound coin, but lighter and silver-colored. I could not for the life of me figure out what it was, or how much it was worth.
It was only in the parking lot that I was able to summon up the word for it: a nickel. My god, I thought. I’ve gone native.
Great commentary on the “going native” phenomenon. As an irishman in Orange County, it all rings true — although in my case, the other way around 😉
Even living here, I’m often mesmerized by the sheer size of the supermarket. There’s just aisles and aisles of stuff…you probably shouldn’t be eating anyway. I mean, do we really need an entire aisle of cereal?
You will find this hard to believe, but when I was studying abroad in Lancaster, they had some of the best chocolate chip cookies I’ve ever had at Sainsbury’s. It was something like one pound for five big cookies, and I’d usually buy out the whole store when I’d go. Besides the really good Indian food, those cookies are probably the thing I miss the most about the UK.
Micah, I do indeed find that hard to believe. But in the spirit of scientific investigation, I’ll pay a visit to my local Sainsbury’s. I don’t suppose you remember the brand name of those cookies, do you?
In the Peace Corps many years ago, this was called “Re-entry Shock,” and it would sometimes crop up unexpectedly. After returning from Ecuador, I would find myself speaking Spanish to uncomprehending listeners, but for some reason, only in stores. A woman of my acquaintance, who spent her two years complaining about everything Ecuadorian, sent back letters filled with sentimental reminiscences for months after returning to Texas. My mother was shocked when, discussing some point of etiquette, I admitted I wasn’t sure, and asked “What do they do in this country?”
I second the availability, though not the quality of Sainsbury’s cookies, the latter simply because I don’t like cookies. 5 per bag, they have oatmeal, chocolate, chocolate chip, sth. with nuts…. They are Sainsbury brand, red little paper bags. Check the Fresh Bakery area.
I know they have them at S. in the O2-centre, that is probably closest to you (at the back, next to baguettes. (and in the one at Holborn station-left of entrance)
good luck, let us know the expert verdict.
I tried the Sainsbury’s cookies back when Micah made the suggestion, and, while they were an acceptable option when I have a sudden cookie urge, they were nowhere near as good as homemade American chocolate chip cookies, or even as good as the pre-made cookie dough you can buy in any US supermarket.