Stop fighting, Market Basket. You're all we've got left.

Boston Globe

4 days ago

Get Winter Soup Club
A six-week series featuring soup recipes and cozy vibes, plus side dishes and toppings, to get us all through the winter.
Enter Email
Sign Up
Last week, suspended executives Tom Gordon and Joe Schmidt visited two Market Basket stores in Salem, N.H., and Rochester, N.H., and were
Advertisement
The Globe also
Please, make it stop.
The infighting
Advertisement
Aimee D'Agata of Groveland loads her car after shopping at the Market Basket store at the Rivers Edge Plaza in Haverhill in May. She said she's also hoping for a good outcome.
Jonathan Wiggs/Globe Staff
But that was 11 years ago. Artie T. returned. Calmness prevailed. Things were simpler then, and we were more resilient. I'm not sure any of us can handle the stress of more upheaval.
I appeal to executives to consider the greater good and put aside any differences for the sake of humanity, because Market Basket is simply more than a 90-store supermarket chain and haven for New Age Beverages. It is a psychological salve, a deli-scented fortress of parquet and yacht rock where things remain mercifully shelf-stable no matter what unfolds beyond those automatic doors.
The orange soda at Market Basket.
David L. Ryan/Globe Staff
Consider these sanity-preserving touchstones:
The tonic
. In an era when hydration is religion and children carry $35 Stanley tumblers to school, Market Basket still sells store-brand soda in every sugar-slicked color of the rainbow, from neon grape to fluorescent orange. Here, it is forever 1986: high fructose corn syrup is a food group, and you're still trying to stab a straw through a Capri Sun pouch on an overheated blacktop before kickball.
The doughnuts at Market Basket.
David L. Ryan/Globe Staff
The sweets
. While stylized doughnuts have steamrolled the dessert landscape, a crumpled dollar bill will always get you a yeasty chocolate-frosted at Market Basket's café. No new-fangled flavors. No deep thinking. Just enough crystallized sugar to rocket you into the next aisle, which brings me to …
The rotisserie chicken
. A landmark display in every store: This plump, plastic-wrapped poultry, retailing for a mere $6 or so, is an essential weapon in any frugal parent's arsenal. They're moist. They're marinated. They're perfectly cooked. And they feed a family. Just yank off the packaging after soccer practice and feast like a king.
The in-store announcements
. Sometimes, it's easy to wonder if God exists. Luckily, at Market Basket, you don't have to: Every so often, a voice warbles from high above, announcing two-for-one, thin-n-trim baloney deals. Like many other-worldly pronouncements, these intonations might have little bearing on reality. Do you really need 2.5 pounds of Market Basket natural casing franks? You do now. Suddenly, if just for a moment, you have direction and purpose.
The rotisserie chicken at Market Basket makes for a quick, tasty, and affordable meal.
David L. Ryan/Globe Staff
The mood music
. Modern life is stressful. But at Market Basket, you can always slip into a
The deli
. New Englanders are known for curmudgeonliness, but nothing lulls us into submission like a well-sliced honey ham. The universe might lack logic, but the deli aisle at Market Basket is a great equalizer: Here, every shopper is the same. Take a number. Stand in line. Wait your turn. Point at the glistening block of Boar's Head, and, here and only here, get exactly what you want.
The décor
. There is solace in routine, and every single Market Basket is decorated exactly the same: beige walls; checkered floors the color of freshly sliced salmon; lighting fit for an operating room at midnight. Landscapes change; people move. But not at Market Basket. Which brings me to ...
Ah, the crowds
. Here, somehow, crowds are charming instead of irritating, because you'll spy someone you know in line — and you'll lock eyes in shared humanity when you discover a mutual passion for Frito-Lay variety packs. Your first boss? Your second cousin with the malfunctioning AOL email address? We're running in too many different directions, but not at Market Basket, where we're all converging at the checkout line, passing time by leafing through copies of the Examiner, whose headlines are more reassuring than anything real. Wi-Fi doesn't often work inside Market Basket. That's a refreshing thing. Take a break from doom-scrolling and peruse the apple pie recipe that cured 72 people in rural Idaho of plantar fasciitis instead.
Market Basket's Italian sub. Just yum.
David L. Ryan/Globe Staff
The anachronistic charm
. Market Basket might be the only business besides certain law firms that require employees to don a tie. There's a wistful decency in watching a besuited bagger nestle family-size Honey Nut Cheerios next to a bouquet of roses, the color of which do not occur in nature.
Those reassuring prices
. Food is
For now, the Market Basket standoff rages on, with some workers complaining about
But do we really have the stamina for another fight? Haven't we been through enough? To the Market Basket powers that be: In a world where we can count on so little, please don't put our yacht rock and rotisserie chicken at risk, too.
Kara Baskin can be reached at