Back when I lived in Flatbush, Brooklyn, this was my local grocery store. It was a bizarre place where every kind of product was emblazoned with a picture of a smiling cactus and the words “western beef”. Think of it as a low-rent trader joe’s. For some reason I decided to look it up today… evidently, their whole business plan is to set up in low-income areas and sell the “exotic fruits and vegtables… yucca, yampi, sapote…” that their customers like to buy. It was an intense place, the meat department spilling blood onto the sidewalk, the inside freezing cold like a warehouse, but it kept my roommate and I fed, for cheap. We cooked a lot, and though most of our meals consisted of rice and beans, I remember how shopping at Western Beef was kind of fun. We’d laugh at the sign depicting the little western beef cactus with a huge gleaming knife in its hand, pointing the way to the meat department. We’d check out the giant yucca and promise ourselves that next time we’d buy one and figure out how to make it. We’d pool our meager resources and figure out how we’d stretch them until the end of the week. It wasn’t until I moved back to LA that I realized how much better the whole fruit and vegetable situation is here. Still, I have to admit a certain nostalgia for Western Beef and am glad it was there for us.