Costco – Soul Food

A little N. America in Asia

As a foreigner living in Japan there are so many things from back home that I miss.  The not so simple solution for me would be to return home but that’s a blog for another time.

I became a member of Costco a few weeks ago when they opened up a store not too far from where I live.  Back in Canada I think the reason most go to Costco is to save money.  Buy bulk.  Buy generic.  Save money.

Yes, most items at the Costco here are cheaper than elsewhere but that’s not the main reason I go.  You’re pretty much guaranteed to spend over $100 CDN every time you walk into the place (over $200 last time I left there).  In fact, I always end up buying stuff that I don’t really need, just because it seems like a great deal.  So at the end of the day, I spent more than I would have had I not gone.

No, the real reason I go to Costco is to buy familiar food.  Western food.  Stuff I grew up on as a kid.  You know, “Kraft Dinner”, Cranberry juice, Raisin Bran, Muffins, Lasagna, Ravioli, Cheddar Cheese and all things Western.   A lot of this stuff is really hard to find where I live so I’ve just become accustomed to eating Japanese.  And that’s the cheaper route, too.

My father was born and raised in Australia.  He came to Canada in 1967 at 26 years old.  He’s spent most of his life in Canada now.   But inside his house you could be in Australia when you look around at a lot of his belongings and treasures. Of course he loves Canada.  But if you ask him his identity, he’s a true blue Aussie.
My father the teacher turned writer.
Costco in a sense has the same appeal as my fathers belongings have for him.  It’s the connection that makes me feel a little closer to home.

Who’d have thought buying Cheddar cheese at Costco could temporarily feed more than a stomach?


6 thoughts on “Costco – Soul Food

  1. Pingback: Foreigners | I Am The Cheese

  2. When I lived in Spain the local supermarket had an English section. I was very good – I managed to avoid buying anything – particularly because of the inflated prices, but also because it reminded me too much of home. Then I returned briefly to England to bury my mother, and I knew that it was just a matter of time before I came back for good. So six months later – after the dogs had done their six months at-home quaranteen – I was a foreigner no more.

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