July 13, 2014
My apologies to the legions of readers in my national and international audience, but the Thornapple blog is going local this week. We’re waving goodbye to a longstanding food institution in East Lansing: Goodrich’s Shop-Rite. Although Goodrich’s won’t be closing their doors until later this week, there were only three cans of chili left when I was in there last Wednesday. And you know what all us local foodie alternative-agriculture pro-hyphen food-aesthetes always say, “When the canned chili’s gone, what’s the point?”
If you’ve spent any time in East Lansing, you’ll probably be inclined to visit the Goodrich’s website, so I’ll provide a handy link right here. But aside from the weekly ad telling you that groceries are now 50% with beer wine and meats discounted at 10%, you probably wouldn’t be able to tell that this store was closing from the website. You’ll probably still be able to Google Goodrich’s a hundred years from now, but I’m telling you truthfully, there ain’t no canned chili left. But with great solumnity I report that my Facebook page has been bombed by “friends” paying tribute to their last visit down on Trowbridge Road, and only a few of them have been insensitive enough to say anything about the lack of chili.
So I’ll take just a paragraph or two to fill the thousands who read this blog to keep tabs on what’s what in mid-Michigan in on some details. The owners of Trowbridge Plaza have decided to do a major remodel and overhaul. Maybe we’ll say more about that in some future Thornapple blog, but for now I’m tempted to go off on a tangent about how anybody could name an establishment “Trowbridge Plaza.” To “trow” is to think or believe, as when people say “A bloody man I trow thou be, for many a heart thou hast made sour.” I say things like that all the time, don’t you? So a trow bridge must be an aid to thinking, a heuristic or mnemonic device. So far so okay, but what does that make a trowbridge plaza? A place where a bunch of old geezers sit around the fountain drinking beer, gleefully trowing and trading acronyms or philosophically obscure aphorisms? Of course, I digress.
Now there have been lots of rumors about why this upgrade meant death for Goodrich’s, but the straight poop is that you really can’t expect to stay closed for six months in the world of independent grocery stores and expect to stay in business. Goodrich’s has many friends, however, and only partly because it has been the go-to place for auto-less MSU students living in the adult housing facilities in Spartan Village and Cherry Lane. I’ve stopped at Goodrich’s about once a week on my way home from work. Especially on Tuesday. It was always vicious on Tuesday because that was Senior Discount day. But I would be in there throwing elbows with the best of the over-60s. Ahh, yes. I wlll miss the blood, the sweat and the physical contact of Senior Discount Day more than anything else.
But seriously now, there are hundreds and probably thousands of folks here in the mid-Michigan area who are now wondering where they are going to find that special item only Goodrich’s carried. The Boar’s Head deli meats score high on the Goodrich’s Yelp page, but if you take a gander there check out Eric P.’s review. There is a man who speaks the truth. For some other people I know, it will be the European chocolate and LU biscuits. Or the wine selection, especially the Grüner Veltliner and the Goats Do Roam that someone would unfailing bring everytime we had a party at Thompson house. I know other places to get bread from the Stone Circle Bakehouse and C.F. Burger dairy products, so I suppose I will survive.
But it won’t be easy. I have no idea where else I can buy Fritos for my canned chili.
Paul B. Thompson holds the W.K. Kellogg Chair in Agricultural, Food and Community Ethics at Michigan State University