{"id":115674,"date":"2025-08-03T13:20:13","date_gmt":"2025-08-03T13:20:13","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/us\/115674\/"},"modified":"2025-08-03T13:20:13","modified_gmt":"2025-08-03T13:20:13","slug":"a-moment-of-truth-in-the-erewhon-check-out","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.europesays.com\/us\/115674\/","title":{"rendered":"A moment of truth in the Erewhon check-out"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

This was not going to be an ordinary trip to the market. When I pulled up to the brand-new Erewhon in Manhattan Beach, one woman was filming her review of a $20 smoothie and another was taste-testing an expensive assortment of healthy prepared sides including something called \u201ckiller cauliflower.\u201d The scene gave me pause. I love supermarkets, but not the fancy ones. I grew up in the air-conditioned, processed-food comfort <\/a>of Ralphs and Vons and remain a sucker for anything flavored with nacho cheese, sour cream and onion, sweet sriracha, honey mustard and cool ranch.<\/p>\n

Newsletter <\/p>\n

You’re reading the Essential California newsletter<\/p>\n

Sign up to start every day with California’s most important stories.<\/p>\n

Enter email address <\/p>\n

Sign Me Up <\/p>\n

You may occasionally receive promotional content from the Los Angeles Times. <\/p>\n

But when Erewhon opened a short drive from the L.A. Times newsroom, I was immediately curious. Could I find my own particular food paradise at a place described as \u201cHollywood\u2019s cult-favorite wellness location,\u201d<\/a> \u201cL.A.\u2019s hottest hangout,\u201d <\/a>\u201cWhole Foods on steroids,\u201d<\/a> and the \u201cVIP of grocery stores.\u201d<\/a> I was about to find out. <\/p>\n

You can\u2019t hide the truth from the supermarket scanner<\/p>\n

In a city where deceptive brand building and selective narratives are a way of life, I\u2019ve always found the supermarket the one place that reduces me to ground truths. It is here where the person I tell people I am collides with the person I actually am, the moment my cart merges into the checkout stand. I can talk all I want about lavish salads, a broiled piece of salmon, grain bowls, and the latest La Croix flavor. But the supermarket scanner records the real story: the teriyaki pita chips, fatty porterhouse steaks and premium ice cream bars that bring me such pleasure but always go publicly unspoken. <\/p>\n

During the pandemic<\/a>, my local Ralphs became an unlikely refuge. I roamed the aisles to collect steps as a break from the crushing news cycle. Wearing a mask was an added bonus, gliding through the self-checkout scanner with some guilt-reducing anonymity. When I am stressed or down or lonely, I often head to the store to clear my head. <\/p>\n

Sometimes, my mood improves and I exit with 2,500 steps and not a single item. Other times, it ends with a bag of junk food I hope will do the job.<\/p>\n

\"Stacks <\/p>\n

Some of the products at the Erewhon market in Manhattan Beach, include olives in a mason jar.<\/p>\n

(Shelby Grad\/Los Angeles Times)<\/p>\n

The carrot, celery and Oreos ruse<\/p>\n

The Pavillons in West Hollywood was my first market as an adult. I was 400 pounds and well into a lifetime cycle of diets. A sturdy metal shopping cart served as my walker, allowing me to get through the store faster than if I was struggling to walk on my own. My first stop was to the produce section, collecting a few heads of lettuce and bags of carrots and celery. <\/p>\n

Then I did the real shopping \u2014 cookies, bread, butter, frozen dinners, chips, lunch meats. The vegetables served as a cover: I hid the junk food beneath it. This charade was costly, because the vegetables would always go into the trash can the minute I got home.<\/p>\n

Flowing receipts could tell you so much about my life: The optimism of a New Year\u2019s diet in January, the excesses to chase away the holiday blues in December. <\/p>\n

\"Jars <\/p>\n

Some of the products at the Erewhon market in Manhattan Beach.<\/p>\n

(Shelby Grad\/Los Angeles Times)<\/p>\n

By the time I entered Erewhon, I\u2019d overcome some of those hangups. I don\u2019t care as much about what the shopper passing me in the cereal aisle thinks of what she sees in my cart. <\/p>\n

I criss-crossed the aisles taking mental notes, debating whether any of the organic fare would appeal to me. Definitely not the \u201ckiller cauliflower.\u201d The lack of all my familiar corporate logos and packaging momentarily rattled me. <\/p>\n

So many items are sold in cute glass mason jars. But the closer I looked at those jars, the more comfortable I became. Some contained olives, dried figs, kale soup, overnight oats and small-batch kimchi. But there were just as many made for me: Biscotti studded with nuts, macaroons dipped in dark chocolate, chocolate-covered almonds mixed with pistachios. <\/p>\n

Erewon was far from the eat-your-organic-spinach place I expected. I grabbed a jar of macaroons and another of dried mangos and headed for the checkout, which was lined with individual wrapped brownies, cookies, power bars and other sweet baked goods. I\u2019ll definitely be back.<\/p>\n

The week\u2019s biggest storiesA scrambled race for governor<\/p>\n