Chris L.
Yelp
OK, so perhaps I was a little hasty in my eager anticipation of the opening of NOFC. Don't get me wrong. I'm still glad this place is here. I can finally get fresh produce without bussing all the f'in way uptown. The large Whole Foods-esque containers of beans, grains, pastas, and even candies are pretty damn convenient as well. However, there are some issues.
The store itself is rather small, which wouldn't be much of a problem except that their inventory is very selective. If you're following recipes, you will still be making several trips to various stores to get all of your ingredients. It reminds me of Mardi Gras Zone in that exotic items like chicken and frozen pizza (except Amy's "if you have to ask, you can't afford it" pizzas) are not readily available because they have to have somewhere to put the free-range-organic-wheat-germy-gluten-free flavors of chutney. What is it about being in the Marigny that makes people with stoves think they're Michelin-rated chefs in Mumbai? And in a store this small, do they really need a whole isle of aromatic bath products? Are you bathing or simmering in some MacBeth type witches' cauldron? (Eye of patchouli, toe of omega-3 fish oil) Having all this yuppie stuff as an option is groovy, but there should be a few "We are the 99%" options as well.
But that's not the worst part. Anyone who has read my review of Mardi Gras Zone will know how much it pains me to write this. While I appreciate that their asparagus is organically grown, hand-massaged from sprouting, and probably ivy-league educated, I'm not generally down with paying $8/lb for freakin' asparagus. It's great that they have several types of kale. But when one item of produce costs more than the meat - which unless your name is Bill Gates, you will be buying elsewhere - we have a problem. For chrissakes, their CHEAPEST dozen eggs are about $3. So, it's no wonder that after considering my food budget, I, with sorrow in my eyes and shame in my heart, returned to Mardi Gras Zone for the (sigh) relatively cheap prices. I could almost hear the manager's thoughts when I came in: "That's right. You're MY bitch!" Between MGZ and NOFC, I'm going to have to start buying lube in bulk quantities because this is really starting to hurt.
My favorite part, however, is that when you get to the checkout counter, the bubbly cashiers ask if you would like to become a member. Sorry. I just blew my monthly membership budget on fresh dill to sprinkle on my cucumber soup. But next time I become the CEO of Goldman Sachs, I will consider putting it on the to-do list. Until then, forget buying membership. Get the bongos out, kids. It's time to occupy the New Orleans Food Cooperative.