Meredith’s Musings | Ode to Central Market

article by Meredith McKinnie

My culinary interests exploded once I had children. Confined to the house by their very existence, I could no longer afford or find the time to visit my favorite local restaurants to indulge in new menu items. I sought a creative outlet to counteract the tireless and routine responsibilities that come with child-rearing. I scrolled Pinterest, saving recipes that sounded both challenging and layered in flavors. If I had never heard of a dish, even better. I not only savor my food, I savor the process of preparing food. Contrary to my aversion to prescribed gender roles, I adore my time in the kitchen. It’s my space, where I retain complete creative control. I pay attention to quality of ingredients, freshness, textures, and presentation. The science of cooking appeals to my hungry, creative soul.

With the two local options of grocery stores, I’d never given much thought to the supermarket experience. Other than lightly squeezing fruit and vigorously checking best-buy dates, I typically get in and get out. The magic happens at home. But on one visit to Texas, Husband introduced me to what I call the Queen of Grocery Stores, the Mecca of Supermarkets – Central Market. While there are several locations, they are confined to the Lone Star State. On my first visit to the Central Market in Fort Worth, I experienced what can only be described as an enlivening of the senses – the sights, smells, detailed packaging, and diversity of options thrilled my budding culinary fascination.

Upon entry, I glide through the produce, featuring unique options like Buddha’s hand, which looks as odd as it sounds, and red dragon fruit. I remember discovering rhubarb at a local grocery store and being mesmerized, thinking, “Whatever is this for?” I have since learned that rhubarb is the essence of a good, surprising-to-the-palette pie. Central Market boasts bright yellow attractions like fresh star fruit and pepino melons, cherimoya that resembles an artichoke, and jackfruit that seems like it would need an ax to crack. I held and inhaled them all, taking notes to look up recipes later. I realized the limits of my produce knowledge. Central Market’s meat cases put local meat cases to shame. The steaks sit several inches high, perfectly carved and elegantly displayed, as if the butchers share my respect for presentation. The wine section is the size of a local eatery, featuring aisles and aisles titled by region, vinification method, and grape variety. While local stores do the same, Central Market just does it so much better. I always bring home several bottles, as lured by the labels as I am the jackets on new book publications.

The cheese and bread sections are the stars of the Central Market show. The fromages from across the globe come in all varieties and flavors, stacked stadium-style with little hand-written signs to lure customers to certain flavors of the week. Pre-Covid, little glass domes allowed customers to sample new flavors, though sadly that tradition has since been discontinued. Some of my notable favorites include the Somerdale White Stilton with Apricots, the Long Clawson Dairy Cotswold, and the River Whey Creamery Indigo Ridge. I intend to sample them all, one visit and one nibble at a time. The homemade bread prepared in-house comes in all shapes and sizes, and the store offers little plastic tissues for customers to grab their favorites. Might I suggest the Chocolate Cherry, or the Buttermilk Sourdough, or the challah – ideal for making stuffing during the holidays.

Rounding out the circuitous pathway, I stumble upon fresh salad bars, an array of to-go dips, allowing customers to prepare and weigh their selections. Before checking out, I get in line for gelato; the flavors are always a surprise. I usually go for the one with the most interesting title. I have yet to be disappointed. I collect my bags and sit right outside the exit door by the playground. Other patrons have grabbed made-to-order lunches like upscale prime rib slabs with decadent mashed potatoes spilling off the plate. We all sit and savor our choices, admiring the people coming and going, some slightly rushing but most taking their time. Even the customers seem more refined and respectful in such a blissful environment. If you’ve never ventured into a Central Market, I cannot recommend it enough. Even if you don’t buy a thing, the experience will tickle your senses and expand your culinary expectations.