Illustration by Victoria Borges
My friends and I talk about Ukrop's like we would an old flame. We recall White House Roll pairings and chocolate fudge pie traditions as if we were at a high school reunion. After Richmond's hometown grocery departed in 2010, we found ourselves in a disorienting dating scene. I think I once ate a whole container of rainbow cookies while listening to “Big Girls Don’t Cry.”
To ease my heartache, I leaned on Kroger, the friend I always turn to for company — stable, reliable and polite to parents. I flirted with the free-spirited Ellwood Thompson’s. We have fun together, but I’m not really wild about kombucha.
Martin's swooped in when my defenses were down, offering many of my favorite Ukrop's items. Plus, they kept the beer and wine flowing. But after a while, like a cute stranger who starts sending texts, Wegmans diverted my attention with fancy flyers. In the end, Martin's didn’t stick around.
Wegmans’ grand opening in Midlothian was like going to a film premiere. People camped out overnight. Wegmans told me what I wanted to hear: “Ukrop's was family-owned, and we are family-owned.” I was a little smitten, dazzled by the hot and cold food bars and the thought of a date at the in-store pub. But I still couldn’t get Ukrop's off my mind.
Aldi and Lidl arrived like a couple of exchange students with intriguing accents. It took a few months to learn to keep a quarter handy for Aldi’s cart rental and to bring my own bags. I left the new Lidl in Short Pump with a $20 toaster, a pound of salami, a package of boxer shorts and confusion about what I had just experienced.
When I visited the new Publix on Nuckols Road, I passed a bagger walking a customer’s cart to her car, conjuring happy Ukrop's memories. I saw rainbow cookies. Then I tried the sweet-tea-flavored chicken tenders, a Publix specialty, and I was hooked by this unassuming new suitor. Before I knew it, I was falling in love.
