From the outside, you’ll only see a brick building with a sign, indicating its presence as a supermarket. But a step inside the market and this personal essay will transport you to a new world.

To the untrained eye, a supermarket is only a supermarket: a busy yet serene retail store that sells groceries. Yet, as an experienced and loyal customer of ethnic supermarkets in New York City, I can attest to supermarkets being more than a place to shop: They are a place of belonging. 

All Chinese Americans growing up in South Brooklyn know the big three Asian supermarkets: Good Fortune Supermarket, Fei Long Supermarket, and I Fresh Supermarket. 

As I approach my favorite, Fei Long Supermarket, the open doors welcome me to a new world. 

Endless aisles of food stand before my eyes; yet, it’s the produce section that grabs my attention. Dozens of aunties and uncles tug at the plastic bags, struggling to get the ends to open. Children push heavy carts with their caved-in shoulders, already tired of the trip. Meanwhile, other young children run wild after another. 

As I observe the scenery, my nose is hit by the contrasting smell of the seafood section to my right and the warm, sweet smell of cake from the left. I make my way toward the produce section, where I hear a multitude of voices: Oh, where is the noodles aisle? Wa, yī hé cǎoméi cái yīkuài qián! (English translation: Wow, only one dollar for a box of strawberries!) English mixes with dialects like Mandarin, and standard Cantonese mixes with sub-dialects such as Toisanese, reminding me of how something as simple as food links people from different parts of the world. 

It’s the beauty in such small yet impactful things that makes supermarkets so appealing to me.

Truth be told, I hated going to the supermarkets when I was younger, even though I love them now. I wasn’t a fan of the seafood section, which always had a distinctly fishy smell, or the wet floors. I wasn’t a fan of the busy crowds at these supermarkets. I wasn’t a fan of the long hours I would spend, waiting for my family to buy the groceries. Yet, I bonded with my family in those markets, and for that, I do not regret going to this day.

From my mom and grandma, I learned how to grocery shop. To many people, grocery shopping is an innate skill that everyone just knows. I didn’t know how to properly grocery shop, but I learned from the best: my family. Perhaps that’s why I would only be put in charge of choosing snacks and restricted to observing on those trips. Still, I  learned how to pick the best bok choy (English translation: Chinese cabbage) from my mom. Choose the one with bright green leaves and a firm stem. I learned how to pick fresh fruits from the fruit king himself, my dad. Choose the firm yet plumpest fruits was the general tip. 

I know to most people that a supermarket is only a supermarket, but to many families like mine, an ethnic supermarket has the DNA that connects people from all over the world. Inside these ethnic supermarkets, you will find different products of different ethnic origins sitting next to each other. You might find Vietnamese Sriracha sauce beside Japanese Kewpie mayo in the sauces aisle. Below, you might spot bottles of Chinese Lao Gan Ma.

For millions of people, these supermarkets are also places of belonging. They are like time capsules that they can use to travel back to their childhood and remember their favorite foods. Even though I’m no longer 11 years old, I go back to these stores with the hope that I can reclaim a small hidden part of myself, knowing that I’m always welcome. 

Regardless of how well connected you are to your culture, you can always go to these markets to experiment with food, explore different cultures, and of course shop. Whether you feel strongly or loosely connected to your culture, you can always depend on ethnic supermarkets for connections to different places or, perhaps, a reminder of your childhood. Even people who want to explore different cultures can step inside an ethnic supermarket for a glimpse. If they take the time to walk through the aisles, they might even understand what’s important to each culture. 

That’s why I will never tire of supermarket trips; you’ll find me in New York City, exploring different ethnic supermarkets: from Chinese grocery stores to Eastern European food shops. Hopefully, you too will see a supermarket as more than a supermarket—but as a place for connection, exploration, and even adventure. 

Process

The brainstorming and writing process for writing The Sacred DNA of Supermarkets took around two weeks. Initially, I wanted to write a piece about invisibility, an idea inspired by Ocean Vuong’s novel On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous. However, I couldn’t get my idea to translate into my Google Docs. I decided to take a day off before continuing to draft the piece. The following day, my mom wanted to take a trip to H Mart, a Korean supermarket, and asked if I’d like to join her. Immediately, I said yes! As I was preparing to leave the house, I thought about how different my reaction would’ve been so different a couple of years ago. As a child, I didn’t have the patience to stay in the supermarkets for a long time and preferred going to the park over shopping at the supermarkets. As I was thinking about my growing enjoyment of exploring the different aisles when shopping at the supermarkets, I thought that it would be nice to express the benefits and appeals of a supermarket. I think to most people, a supermarket is solely a place to shop but it truly is a magical place that connects people from all over the world to explore and appreciate cultures. Not to mention, for many people, supermarket trips with their family are like revising a small piece of their childhood.

Over the course of two weeks, I wrote a draft and revised it with my mentor. We met once a week and thoroughly went over the piece. Thanks to my mentor, this was not only a writing journey but also a learning journey.