Farewell Winn-Dixie
An ode to my favorite grocer, 658 words
I just went through my fifth Winn-Dixie supermarket since moving to Tampa in 1989. Like the last three, it will close and become a new Aldi market. This time, there aren’t any other Winn-Dixies within reasonable driving distance, so I’ll have to find a new grocer. That, or take the extended driving distance, an extra twelve miles to Seminole Heights just north of downtown.
Why did I shop so many years with the same store? Habit, for one. Shopping at W-D felt like wearing an old pair of shoes that had long conformed to the shape of my feet, familiar and comfortable. I first encountered Winn-Dixie while attending college in Atlanta, back around 1979. At that time the stores still gave away Green Stamps with every purchase. What attracted me then was the prices. Like the regular blue collar clientele the chain focused on, students also need to be thrifty, and the store offered good buys. In Tampa, I found good selection of familiar brands at low prices and stuck with it after trying out the other stores in the area: Publix and Kash ‘n Karry. With time, Albertsons and Walmart showed up. Albertsons eventually retreated back to Idaho as the 800-pound gorilla of Walmart expanded. Kash ‘n Karry emerged from Chapter 11 to get bought out and turned into Sweetbay, only to fold after a few years, half of the stores becoming Winn-Dixies, before they also changed into Fresco y Mas Hispanic grocers or Aldi.
How I eat likely had plenty to do with shopping Winn-Dixie as well, because the stores have a Southern vibe that I didn’t sense among the competition. Based in Jacksonville, Florida (also called Georgia’s southernmost city), this chain was pretty ubiquitous throughout the South, right up there with Piggly Wiggly as Southern institutions. I remember shopping W-D when I lived in Dallas, before the chain left Texas, leaving me to make do with Tom Thumb and Kroger. Having lived so many years in the South, that’s how I like to eat, and Winn-Dixie reliably stocks catfish, greens, blackeye peas, ribs, and other Southern favorites.
The chain called itself “The Beef People” in advertising, but it was the pork and chicken that kept me coming back. Dirt cheap, plentiful, and of a wide variety. I remember even seeing rabbit meat in the freezer case one time. I don’t where else I’ll find those inch-thick pork chops that cook up like a T-bone steak. There’s still the 99-cents-a-pound hams around Easter and Christmas. Likewise, the steady supply of ribs and Boston butt pork roasts. When those are marked down, I find myself rubbing shoulders with numerous other barbecue cooks pawing through what’s available, and Winn-Dixie also carries hickory and applewood chunks in the same aisle as the charcoal. I’m not sure when I’ll be smoking that next batch of barbecue pulled pork, but maybe I need to get a move on it now.
Shame on me for tying myself to a single grocer. I just liked the place too much, feeling at home because I knew exactly where to find what I wanted and brands I’ve known for years. Meat prices at Walmart are close to what I’ve experienced at W-D, so I can make that work, but I don’t remember seeing catfish there.
I visited one of my old Winn-Dixies that reopened as an Aldi. It’s a lot smaller and much the same as the Aldi stores I saw in Germany when I was a GI. The store has a fine selection of cheese at very good prices. I also saw great buys on pinot grigio and chianti. I’ll be back to scarf some of that up, along with stout from a Virginia craft brewery. I saw Atlantic salmon at better prices than I’ve seen anywhere else, but no catfish. I don’t know where I have to look now, but I got to have my catfish and collard greens.