Harrods' Food Hall: Gastronomical Bliss

A few days after settling down in my new home for much of the summer, I found myself wandering around Knightsbridge. During my wandering, I stumbled upon the renowned Harrods department store (it's not difficult to stumble upon the a store which occupies an entire square block of the city). Shockingly to me, on a Tuesday afternoon the over one million square feet uber-luxury retailer was swarming with people speaking foreign languages, those in tour groups taking pictures outside the London institution owned by Egyptian businessman Mohamed Al Fayed. I was surprised that, given the worldwide economic climate, the store that specializes in material extravagance of every conceivable kind was teeming…until I saw the huge signs in the windows, reading in bold black font on a stark white background: “THERE IS ONLY ONE SALE”. It all suddenly made sense, who doesn’t love a good sale? Especially one that affirms its’ eminence so wantonly. It’s summer, everyone’s on holiday, and now you can get that Theo Fennell necklace you (and Mischa Barton) have been eyeing for a mere £19,000, down from £30,000!

I squeezed my way into one of the entrances with a group of twenty-something women in their immaculate this season Christian Louboutins, and found my way into the Food Hall. Here’s where the fun for me (although I’m sure irritation for those around me) began. For the next hour or so, I did, admittedly, move at a slug-like pace, stopping every minute or so to further investigate a bag of dragéed nuts, or remember a brand to Google later or a dish I wanted to recreate. In my own little gastronomical bliss, I was unaware (or rather, unabashed) by the haste of the throngs of tourists.

(This blog post makes an interesting comparison of England's Harrods' Food Hall to America's Wegmans, a store I used to love exploring and taste-testing everything for hours on end with my best friend Jessie. Although Wegmans is not nearly up to par with the London food mecca, it would be wonderful if it evolved into an American Harrods!)

After hearing a few grumbles coming from my stomach, I knew I needed to stop looking and commit to something to keep my blood sugar stable enough until I could make some mushroom and leek soup at the flat. After some more contemplation and exploration of the Mediterranean antipasti section, I decided on a few hundred grams of kalamata olives and some vibrant sun-dried Roma tomatoes in extra virgin olive oil, and headed out the way I came.
Fueled by a few olives (and the excitement of all the esculent items I encountered), I made it westbound on the Piccadilly Line and back to the flat with my Harrod’s bag of treats and a reaffirmation of my love for fine food.