Monday, June 11, 2012

Food’s Greatest Stage: Loblaws at Maple Leaf Gardens

The Loblaws Maple Leaf Gardens entrance and "HMR" zone.
Photo by Derek Flack, blogTO

We read advertisements... to discover and enlarge our desires. We are always ready—even eager—to discover, from the announcement of a new product, what we have all along wanted without really knowing it.  — Daniel J. Boorstin 

I tried to hate you, Loblaws, but you’re just too damn good.
When you bought Maple Leaf Gardens, “Canada’s most famous building,” in 2004, like many Canadians, I was horrified, outraged. Though I hate hockey, gutting this hallowed space to install a grocery store sounded like sticking a Wal-Mart in the Taj Mahal. But your siren charms have overwhelmed me. As your opening date approached last fall, I found myself growing more excited. What marvels might you showcase in all that space?  
When I finally entered through the main doors a few months later (I don't line up at 8 a.m. for too much anymore), you bewitched me with an adult Disney World of endless culinary possibility. Soaring ceilings and original cement walls whispered of the cathedral-like space of the original Gardens, a feeling enhanced by a leaf wall sculpture of blue stadium seats, huge murals honouring this sacred temple and its hockey heroes, and natural light flowing through large windows. 

Photo by Derek Flack, blogTO

Loblaw Inc.




Moving further into the store, I was greeted with several strong sensory triggers: fresh flowers and plants were displayed, garden-like, in the entryway and along the main east–west aisle, as well as throughout the fresh-food section. Directly ahead were the powerful sights, sounds, and smells of fresh-cooked food. The employees call this the HMR (“home meal replacement”) department, and it comprises a pizza and pasta bar, a sandwich counter, and a hot entrée area, heaven for the increasing numbers of harried urbanites who like fresh food but don’t cook. In an open area behind the HMR, long wooden tables covered in historical collages of the athletes, musicians, and politicians who have taken centre ice invite communal dining. Everywhere there are fresh, delicious, and colourful things to eat. It’s a bustling area, with chefs and servers waiting on lines of customers, and shoppers darting deeper into the store’s spacious aisles. Busy equals successful, busy equals quality, busy equals good.


Endless bounty in the the fresh-market area.
Photo by Derek Flack, blogTO
 


Every department in the “fresh zone” is like a stand-alone shop, with its own design and materials. Huge wall signage announces the Deli, Patisserie, Grill, Canteen, Sushi, Bakery, “Fishmonger,” and Butcher sections. Steel on concrete, wood on wood panel, neon on white subway tiles, even letters etched on glass give each department its own identity. Some are actual stores-within-the-store, such as the Sushi Bar run by T&T Supermarkets, and the Ace Artisan Bakery. No grocery aisles or frozen foods are readily visible from here; these more pedestrian areas are all hidden “backstage,” away from the fresh-food mainstage.

Loblaw Inc.

The overall effect is of a glitzier, cleaner, more upscale St. Lawrence-style indoor market. The signage and displays emphasize the freshness, variety, healthfulness, and abundance of the food. I notice there are few gaps in the shelves or displays, as though a silent alarm instantly alerts the staff to any display that needs re-stocking. Abundance is the norm. 


This is grocery store as theatre, as spectacle. The glossy in-store magazine breathlessly describes the store’s wonders (“food experiences beyond imagination” and “international delights” are all “under one legendary roof”), with sideshow hyperbole: “See culinary masterpieces come to life before your very eyes,” it cries. “Witness the amazing 18-foot-high wall of cheese...Buy chocolate chiseled by the chunk...Revel in the bounteous takeaway options...Breathe in the smell of good things baking...ogle meat options beyond compare...!” An old-time carnival barker couldn’t have said (or sold) it better. 

Cooks prep meals in the in-store kitchens above the ACE Bakery outlet.
Loblaw Inc.



The magazine offers tips for healthier choices (all PC products, of course), and helpful advice from the in-store pharmacist and dietitian. This store doesn’t just want to sell you soup and crackers, it wants to improve your life. There are services aplenty: a cooking school, pharmacy, medical clinic, dry cleaner, PC Financial, Joe Fresh, and LCBO. There is live music and dance. Food and drink, health care, clothes, entertainment, a bank....Is this a store, or the village Hillary said it would take to raise me? Am I home?

One (slightly creepy) aspect of all this perfection struck me on a recent visit: I slowly realized as I trolled the more traditional grocery aisles that all the shelves were perfectly "faced": in other words, there were no items missing. I looked around me but didn't notice any restockers, elfin or otherwise. I suddenly got that weird, I'm-being-watched feeling as I reached for the Triscuits. Was the stock being replenished automatically by merchandising robots humming away behind the rows of boxes and cans? Or were there hundreds of CCTV cameras monitoring our every selection, sending signals to teams of stockboys standing at the ready? Aisle after aisle was like this. It became a challenging game to find a "missing tooth" in the displays. Out and out creepy, I tell ya'.

As area councillor Kyle Rae promised, the new Maple Leaf Gardens seems to have had a rejuvenating effect on the fading Church and Wellesley Village community. It appeals to the discriminating, the moneyed, those who know how to choose well—or at least those willing to learn. As a supervisor told me, the goal is to provide an experience “like nothing you’ve ever seen,” a place offering knowledgeable staff and unparalleled choice. 
Loblaws at Maple Leaf Gardens offers a new way to belong. I can be a better person here, make better choices, see new things, learn new skills. How can my needs not be met in a place of such abundance? This is a community, one I want to join: I can lunch with friends, be entertained, I have room to move freely, I’m catered to and cared for, I’m welcome. 
Who wouldn’t buy in to that? 

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