The Corona Diaries: Day Seven

“My early years as a dad involved many early mornings at the Key Food. The baby woke up early and we needed somewhere to go! During our daily visits to the store, baby in the Bjorn, we were greeted by the two managers. To this day, they greet us by name. Now that my daughter is a teen, I am not always her favorite company. But she is always happy to take a walk to the Key Food to pick up whatever we need for dinner. Those little shopping trips give us a chance to chat about this and that and maintain our connection, even when daily life is stressful. This store is more than a place to buy groceries. It is a part of our community, a place where we see our neighbors, part of the fabric of daily life in the Slope.” -- Ross Levin

It you ask Niko about the sound of her childhood, she’ll tell you it was the delivery trucks unloading in the parking lot at Key Food the grocery store that faces the back of our house. B and I started shopping at there in 1990, when we moved to the neighborhood, and we’ve never stopped.

Key Food has been there for us throughout it all – the early days of parenting, after the horror of 9/11, and many, many snowstorms. The managers, Bob and Delio, knew us so well we were on a first-name basis with them. My favorite Delio quote, as he stood and watched the masses panic-shop before a storm: “My mother was always prepared. ‘Shame on you’, “she would say, if you weren’t. What is wrong with these people who wander in at the last minute?”

What indeed? He was raised in the post-war generation when the stories were still fresh of food privation, and pantries were stocked at all times when the peace finally came. 

I remember a particularly grueling winter when Niko was a toddler and she was sick for days. I finally emerged from the house to grab some items at the store and Bob asked me, “Where have you been?” I haven’t seen you!” When I told him about being homebound with a small sick child he simply looked at me and said, “What is wrong with you? Why didn’t you call? We would have delivered.”

This is the kind of store Key Food has always been. A community grocery store that takes care of the people of Park Slope. And Gowanus. And, actually, lots of other neighborhoods. When we worked on the campaign to save Key food from demolition one of the things we discovered is that the store attracts customers from all over Brooklyn. Partly it’s the variety, partly it’s the parking, Partly it’s the fact that it is accessible to those in wheelchairs.

And then there is the music. Today, when I stopped in for eggs and milk they were playing Meat Loaf, and I was completely transported. Sometimes it’s Paul McCartney and Wings, and suddenly I’m a 12-year-old girl again. 

Key Food is not upscale. Oh, they’ve certainly done their fair share of renovating and keeping up with trends. But, at heart, Key Food is a large, old-school New York grocer that is beloved for the very fact that it isn’t Whole Foods.

One developer has come and gone, and another one is in the works. Key Food was supposed to be demolished years ago – we started working on the campaign to save it in late 2015, and here we are in early 2020 and the store, thank God, is still here to feed us, the people of Park Slope. And Gowanus. And, actually, lots of other neighborhoods in Brooklyn.