Bright lights, pyramids of strawberries, wide aisles and signs bemoaning the sorry state of conventional farming.
Kitschy fonts, benevolent store brands, the feeling of a country market stand.
Flash and jazz, tall ceilings with visible ductwork, narrow aisles and dark colors. A circus stream of we’re-everything-they’re-not. Flash in the pan, here today, gone tomorrow.
And the typical stores: white-white-white light, no particular personality or ambience, just get-it-done service and selection. The requisite items. The expected. Accessible. Everything-in-one-fell-swoop.
“There are so many groceries in Michigan,” Melissa Castleman remarked when she visited her parents in September. The Connecticut-based travel, food and wine writer came home to familiar streets and soothing routes. “You have no idea how hard it is to find good food where I live,” she said. “I wish I could transplant just one of your great groceries to my corner of Connecticut.”
Looking around at the choices for grocery shopping here in southeastern Michigan, I realized Melissa was right – there ARE many. But you know I think you should choose Hiller’s.
Then there’s an e. coli outbreak. Or the meat is bad. Or the prices soar. Or they just don’t have everything you need at this very moment.
Or you’re not quite convinced that organic is absolutely essential. Or you want Pampers disposable diapers instead of earth-mother ones. Or you want to stroll along the aisles, feeling in some inexplicable way like you’ve come home, where the smell of handmade something floats on the air.
Every Hiller’s store is designed to aesthetically relate to its surrounding community. Our story is a universal one – of family, of quality, of careful selection and staying the course.
There are grocery stores everywhere in metro Detroit these days. In every location where you find a Hiller’s, you don’t have to go more than a mile to find a different store.
I want you to choose Hiller’s because you know you’ll never buy tainted tomatoes, bacteria-riddled spinach, spoiled meat or farmed fish from China in my stores. Because every person in a red shirt will answer your questions and fulfill your food desires.
Because it’s hard to feel at home in a busy, scatter-cat world and when you walk into a Hiller’s, you’ll find that unique combination of comfort and invigoration, a silent message that for the next 45 minutes of shopping, everything will be alright.