The British Invasion

No, unfortunately this is not an announcement of the second coming of The Beatles. Sigh. Perhaps it’s the next best thing? A post about Global Market which is the only international market in Nashville specializing in British imports.

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This week my true and lovely comrade Rachel Briggs guided Liam and I to Global Market in our continued tour of the international markets in Nashville. I find Global Market a bit suspect. In its favor it has an excellent selection of British snacks and canned goods that are a challenge to find elsewhere. Some prawn cocktail flavored “crisps” (chips) and Colman’s mustard came back to the barracks with me. (The label for Colman’s mustard reads, “Not for the faint-hearted, the Original English mustard from Colman’s will set your taste buds ablaze…” Ah, an inscription after my own heart.) They also carry the largest boxes of PG Tips I’ve ever seen. Lastly, the place is a bastion of olive oils at reasonable prices.

In addition to the British provisions, I acquired some canned artichoke bottoms, sumac, and burnt sugar (browning) syrup. Perhaps the sumac will make an interesting butter cookie?

Here is what I find suspicious and I’ll just shoot straight here: they like kids a little too much. Look closely at the picture of the sign for Global Market. . .beside the big sign is another sign saying, “Kids Welcome.” Then when you walk in, you go through a corridor and the whole thing is lined with snapshots of kids and some of the kids don’t look too happy about having their picture taken. The man working there who acted like he was the owner tried to guess Liam’s age as soon as we walked in and he was eerily accurate for a middle aged man. He guessed 8 months; Liam is a strapping 7. That man is not holding my baby. Nothing bad happened, but Billie Jean was ringing in my ears even though no music was playing that day at the Global Market.

Another disappointment is that when I was checking out I asked the assumed owner what he really liked in the store and what he liked to cook. He said, “Not anything really. I’ll usually eat a can of sardines for lunch just because they’re there.” “Oh,” I said, “so you just stock whatever people ask for?” He circuitously answered yes and explained that they stock so much British food because that’s the only market that’s not been cornered by someone else over the last 40 years they’ve been in business.

Blast, I assumed he would care about what he sold. He is not my ally in the battle against mediocrity if he’s eating sardines out of a can every day, ignoring the exotic and incredible tastes and textures at his fingertips!

General Gingersnap, signing off.