Taste: Reinventing the Co-op

For almost 70 years, the Swarthmore Co-op was a fixture of that community’s miniature downtown, a well-worn market with hand-painted advertisements, its convenient location the top draw for the town’s students and seniors. But the landmark was torn down last year to make way for a new street—and, just yards away from the original location, a shiny new co-op, celebrating its grand opening this month. Now, the main attraction isn’t convenience, but a

For almost 70 years, the Swarthmore Co-op was a fixture of that community’s miniature downtown, a well-worn market with hand-painted advertisements, its convenient location the top draw for the town’s students and seniors. But the landmark was torn down last year to make way for a new street—and, just yards away from the original location, a shiny new co-op, celebrating its grand opening this month. Now, the main attraction isn’t convenience, but a vast product selection that mirrors Swarthmore’s eating habits.

Through extensive surveys of its members and shoppers (the store is open to the public), the co-op’s new product selection committee has transformed a small-town market into a quirky 6,000-square-foot gourmet grocery with a philosophy unheard-of at the nearby chain supermarkets or notoriously selective Traders Joe’s: to stock whatever the customer asks for.

Swarthmoreans are asking for foods that are low in sodium, and ones with no trans fats. They are demanding vegetarian options. They crave Indian and Thai specialties. They need nearly 100 types of jams and jellies. They want Twin Hens gourmet potpies, Margaret Kuo’s sushi, D’Artagnan duck fat, Kelley’s Katch American caviar and local Harmonyville cheeses.

How about Odwalla organic juices? “I’ve never heard of those,” general manager and smiling face of the co-op Jack Cavanaugh tells a shopper. “But I’ll get them. Give me your phone number, and I’ll call you when they arrive.”