I have been exploring my new neighborhood. There’s a Family Dollar Store on Montrose just west of Western and an Aldi practically across the street. There’s a dry cleaner a block away. Not far down Irving Park Road, there are a few bars that feature craft brews on tap, burgers and the standard assortment of pub grub. Two 24-hour Walgreens and an express post office are within a mile. There is actually a Chase Bank and ATM within walking distance.

I only moved about two miles from my old apartment, but I like to walk and I like to support local businesses, so I am always on the lookout for little diners or ethnic stores and mom and pop shops.

Two weeks ago, a friend and long-time resident of the area asked, “Have you been to Harvestime yet? They have the best yogurt. I think it’s Greek.” She raved about their produce then went on to explain other things she likes to buy there. I had to check it out.

Harvestime is on a main street, not at the back of a mall. It has diagonal spaces for a few cars right under their day-glow cardboard signs announcing daily specials. There’s a small lot across the street with spaces for maybe twenty more cars. They have a large sign which towers awkwardly over their small parking lot. It’s an odd hybrid of low-tech and hi-tech. A rotating LED display announces some of their weekly specials under a brightly painted scene of cartoonishly ripe fruits and vegetables suitable for an elementary school production set in a garden. Whenever I have gone there, I see an old Arabic man near the front entrance. He presides over a collection of white tube socks and novelties arranged on top of a blanket; all for sale, everything at great prices he’ll call out to you, demanding eye contact despite your best intention to ignore him. A visit to Harvestime has some of the flavor of a excursion to a 3rd world bizarre.

Getting familiar with a new neighborhood grocery store is a little like dating. You have to understand if you want a long-term relationship or if you just want to run in and grab a few things. If you think you’ll become a regular shopper, you need to take some time. You have to learn what you can expect. You need to know what a store is good at, and you may have to accept some limitations too.

For instance, Harvestime has practically no frozen food section. This sort of grocs with my newly forming philosophy on food: Only eat food items with expiration dates on the packages or things that will obviously die within the week. Harvestime doesn’t have big sections with cleaning products either. So, I have gladly decided to save that type of shopping for less frequent visits to Target.

Harvestime does have an incredible selection of produce (maybe not certifiably organic, but as fresh as you can imagine); aisles of Spanish, Asian and Middle Eastern staples; and an array of specialty items that they make in their own kitchen. They have not one style of salsa, but about four. Plastic pint containers of olives are portioned out fresh from large glass barrels (from who knows where).

They make special purchases too. They must buy closeouts of unusual imports or overstock items that a distributor is happy to part with at bargain prices. Last week, I found cans of sardines in tomatoes imported from Spain, just like the salty snacks John and I enjoyed in Madrid. When I see the amazing selection within the limitations of space – after all, it is just an independent corner store – I think about all the relationships the owner or buyers must have with local producers and food brokers. In a business with notoriously low margins, I can’t help but wonder how a store like Harvestime can bring in fresh products and sell them at reasonable prices. My gut tells me that they can only do this by exercising discernment and choice.

Being the best at what you can be best at, not trying to be everything for everyone is no small thing.