I imagine that most people’s happy place is at a beach, on top of a mountain, floating along a river, on top of an untouched double-black with a cliff as the entrance, around the campfire, in a small cottage on Cape Cod with a good book among the red and gold leaves in the middle of a thunder storm, at the finish line of a marathon, on a Mediterranean cruise, sipping wine in a vineyard, in bed on a Saturday morning, or standing at the altar on wedding day. My favorite place in the universe, however, is Whole Foods. Being greeted by fresh fruit, vegetables, and cut flowers before I even walk in the door makes my heart sing. The rows of colorful foods that all have the raw potential for greatness makes me smile from the inside out.
The wine, the cheese, the fish. THE SANDWICH BAR! I love it all. If I could have a bed in the back, I would. My favorite thing about traveling out of Alaska isn’t the adventure, the family, the great friends, or the memories, but the fact that nine times out of ten, I get to go to Whole Foods. I should be the spokeswoman, like Jared from Subway. I have so many positive messages about how Whole Foods has changed my life. They should hire me (so that I can spend all of my money in their store).
The reason why I love to cook can (almost) single-handedly be traced to Whole Foods. Finding new and intriguing food always piques my interest in creating something grand. Some people say that Disneyland is the happiest place on earth, but they are wrong–it is Whole Foods.
Whole Foods, I love you. Please come to Anchorage.