OK, so the bakery at the newest supermarket in town churns out some 20 different breads a day and the produce is abnormally large and highly polished. But Fresh Fields also happens to be parking-lot hell, a bottleneck of J. Peterman–catalog shoppers on parade, and, in general, pricey just to look at. So, you ask, what’s great about this place?
Unlike any other supermarket in these parts, Fresh Fields feels for those who can’t afford to wield big spendy cars about the one-way, 40-car parking lot and dress in $60, all-cotton twills. And it feeds them. At Fresh Fields samples runneth over, and if you plan it right, you can cop an entire free meal. Start with olives, patés, and cheeses; steer deli-ward for whatever soups, salads, and snacks are being touted that day (this is where you get your protein); and close in on the bakery stand for sugar, carbs, and lard, indulging in focaccia and cinnamon rolls till you can stand no more.
And get this: No one screws up their face at you for scarfing. They figure you’ll put a cashier’s offspring through college by decade’s end.
