The Co-Op Thing
Last Saturday B and I ate breakfast at the Seward Cafe, which is one of two co-ops just around the corner from us. The other is the Seward Market, which is a grocery store about the size of a Whole Foods.
What is a co-op? I don't have a precise answer. In this context I'd say it's a business to which many people contribute (cooperate) and from which they all share revenue. For the Seward Market at least (not sure about the Cafe), you can become a member of the co-op, and share in the benefits (either through actual revenue-sharing or just reduced-cost groceries) in exchange for your labor (as a cashier or stockboy or whatever). We've only been in the Seward Market a couple times so far and I'm not totally clear on the details yet.
I was aware of one co-op grocery store in Ithaca. I don't remember ever seeing any in Philadelphia, San Diego, or Providence, although of course that doesn't mean there weren't any. But in Minneapolis the co-op is very common: We saw at least 5 of 6 of them when were out here in June looking for apartments in various neighborhoods.
The co-op thing appears to be very much an extension of Minneapolis's pronounced liberalism. The Minnesota poitical dynamic is that Minneapolis is very liberal, St. Paul is a bit less so, and the many surrounding counties are much more conservative--in some ways very much like New York and other states. On the whole, of course, Minnesota is a very blue state.
Anyway, living near the U, B and I have spotted plenty of young radicals. They seem to fall into two types.
First are those with the punkish look, lots of leather and peircings. And Doc Martin boots, which I don't how they can wear in the middle of July. On one of our first days here B and I were out for a stroll and we walked by some very punk kids, one of whom had the Rancid name and logo on the back of his leather jacket. I love Rancid, and B and I saw them in concert in 1999. But strolling past that kid, dressed as I was was loafers, Docker shorts, and a Hawaiian shirt, I definitely felt old :-0
The second group has a very proletariat look: Overalls, plain brown dresses, and so forth that scream "I eschew consumerism." It is this second look that is most prevalent at the Seward Cafe, since the co-op thinking is very much about eschewing consumerism.
B and I walked in not knowing what to expect. Immediately we knew we were in for something different. As one of B's coworkers later described the place "It's like 1969 in there."
The first thing was that were unsure whether to seat ourselves or look for a waiter or waitress. There didn't seem to be wait staff, but neither did it seem the kind of place where you order at the counter: At those kinds of places, there is usually a menu on the wall behind the counter, and there was none here, just ferns and art. Turns out there was a handwritten sign saying something like "Are you new? Ask here for an explanation of how things work," but I didn't notice that until after we had eaten. Instead, as we stood there wondering what to do, a guy behind the counter finally handed us menus, and we grabbed a table.
The menu was hand-written and (as opposed to typeset), adding to the co-opy feel of the place. And the cuisine was entirely organic and vegetarian, with the exception of several dishes with real eggs, and one dish with organic pork sausage. Nevertheless, the menu was very varied and interesting: Lots of Mexican-style brekafast dishes, plenty of pastries, and other stuff. Some of the vegan stuff just struck me as gross, though, for example, biscuits with mushroom-and-walnut gravy, or omelets with fake eggs and vegan cheese made from goodness knows what. I settled on an omelet with vegetables and (real) feta cheese, while B went with the "hash brown supreme"--hash browns covered in cheese, fried onions, and other good stuff.
By this time we were sure there was no wait staff, so B got up to put in our order. Turns out you're supposed to write your order down on a piece of paper, listing your name and each menu item you want along with its price, and give the piece of paper to the man behind the counter, who punches it into the cash register. Then you pay, grab some napkins and silverware, and wait for your name to be called.
As we waited we took in the decor. As I said, there were lots of artsy oil-on-canvases (the kind that look like fingerpaintings of nothing in particular) and many ferns. We also people-watched, and I restrained myself from making jokes about "unwashed hippies" ;-)
Our order was called and the food was really very good, especially B's hash browns, and I have no doubt we'll be back, even though you have to bus your own dishes when you're done (as a couple more handpainted signs within the co-op instruct).
Oh, and the Seward Cafe doubles as "Spokes Pizza." That is, the Cafe is open 7 days a week until the early afternoon, and on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday it turns into Spokes Pizza--they actually go out and hang the Spokes sign on the relevant nights. It's called Spokes Pizza because they deliver on bicycles. The Spokes folks seem to be more the punkish type--the aforementioned fellow with the Rancid jacket is a Spokes delivery guy.
I hope I'm not making too big a deal about the co-op thing and the folks who are into it--and I know my tone has been a little mocking, but I am just kidding! It really is remarkable. Mind you, we went to college in Ithaca, NY, and lived in Providence--less than a mile from famously crunchy Brown University!--for five years, and still we're quite struck by Minnefabulous's hippy punky crunchy co-op vibe.
What is a co-op? I don't have a precise answer. In this context I'd say it's a business to which many people contribute (cooperate) and from which they all share revenue. For the Seward Market at least (not sure about the Cafe), you can become a member of the co-op, and share in the benefits (either through actual revenue-sharing or just reduced-cost groceries) in exchange for your labor (as a cashier or stockboy or whatever). We've only been in the Seward Market a couple times so far and I'm not totally clear on the details yet.
I was aware of one co-op grocery store in Ithaca. I don't remember ever seeing any in Philadelphia, San Diego, or Providence, although of course that doesn't mean there weren't any. But in Minneapolis the co-op is very common: We saw at least 5 of 6 of them when were out here in June looking for apartments in various neighborhoods.
The co-op thing appears to be very much an extension of Minneapolis's pronounced liberalism. The Minnesota poitical dynamic is that Minneapolis is very liberal, St. Paul is a bit less so, and the many surrounding counties are much more conservative--in some ways very much like New York and other states. On the whole, of course, Minnesota is a very blue state.
Anyway, living near the U, B and I have spotted plenty of young radicals. They seem to fall into two types.
First are those with the punkish look, lots of leather and peircings. And Doc Martin boots, which I don't how they can wear in the middle of July. On one of our first days here B and I were out for a stroll and we walked by some very punk kids, one of whom had the Rancid name and logo on the back of his leather jacket. I love Rancid, and B and I saw them in concert in 1999. But strolling past that kid, dressed as I was was loafers, Docker shorts, and a Hawaiian shirt, I definitely felt old :-0
The second group has a very proletariat look: Overalls, plain brown dresses, and so forth that scream "I eschew consumerism." It is this second look that is most prevalent at the Seward Cafe, since the co-op thinking is very much about eschewing consumerism.
B and I walked in not knowing what to expect. Immediately we knew we were in for something different. As one of B's coworkers later described the place "It's like 1969 in there."
The first thing was that were unsure whether to seat ourselves or look for a waiter or waitress. There didn't seem to be wait staff, but neither did it seem the kind of place where you order at the counter: At those kinds of places, there is usually a menu on the wall behind the counter, and there was none here, just ferns and art. Turns out there was a handwritten sign saying something like "Are you new? Ask here for an explanation of how things work," but I didn't notice that until after we had eaten. Instead, as we stood there wondering what to do, a guy behind the counter finally handed us menus, and we grabbed a table.
The menu was hand-written and (as opposed to typeset), adding to the co-opy feel of the place. And the cuisine was entirely organic and vegetarian, with the exception of several dishes with real eggs, and one dish with organic pork sausage. Nevertheless, the menu was very varied and interesting: Lots of Mexican-style brekafast dishes, plenty of pastries, and other stuff. Some of the vegan stuff just struck me as gross, though, for example, biscuits with mushroom-and-walnut gravy, or omelets with fake eggs and vegan cheese made from goodness knows what. I settled on an omelet with vegetables and (real) feta cheese, while B went with the "hash brown supreme"--hash browns covered in cheese, fried onions, and other good stuff.
By this time we were sure there was no wait staff, so B got up to put in our order. Turns out you're supposed to write your order down on a piece of paper, listing your name and each menu item you want along with its price, and give the piece of paper to the man behind the counter, who punches it into the cash register. Then you pay, grab some napkins and silverware, and wait for your name to be called.
As we waited we took in the decor. As I said, there were lots of artsy oil-on-canvases (the kind that look like fingerpaintings of nothing in particular) and many ferns. We also people-watched, and I restrained myself from making jokes about "unwashed hippies" ;-)
Our order was called and the food was really very good, especially B's hash browns, and I have no doubt we'll be back, even though you have to bus your own dishes when you're done (as a couple more handpainted signs within the co-op instruct).
Oh, and the Seward Cafe doubles as "Spokes Pizza." That is, the Cafe is open 7 days a week until the early afternoon, and on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday it turns into Spokes Pizza--they actually go out and hang the Spokes sign on the relevant nights. It's called Spokes Pizza because they deliver on bicycles. The Spokes folks seem to be more the punkish type--the aforementioned fellow with the Rancid jacket is a Spokes delivery guy.
I hope I'm not making too big a deal about the co-op thing and the folks who are into it--and I know my tone has been a little mocking, but I am just kidding! It really is remarkable. Mind you, we went to college in Ithaca, NY, and lived in Providence--less than a mile from famously crunchy Brown University!--for five years, and still we're quite struck by Minnefabulous's hippy punky crunchy co-op vibe.
posted by James at 1:28 PM
3 Comments:
There is a co-op in Swarthmore, but it seems to be very snotty (which is kind of an oxymoron for a co-cop if you ask me).
I remember there was a coop on the campus of URI back when I went there in the late 80s. Since I just learned today (from your blog) what a coop is, I never went into the place at URI. Back then I thought it was some private thing you had to be a member to visit. It definitely did have a hippy look to it.
you mention doc martin boots --the latest chichi thing here in the big apple is wearing boots with summer clothers. go figure.
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