Editor's note: Some readers have expressed that they feel this story is culturally insensitive. Those criticisms are valid. While the intent of the post was to shine a light on a beloved longtime market that's important to Nashville's immigrant community as well as to the city itself, it came off as cultural tourism — a story that treats this market and this community as "other" rather than as a vital part of the city's cultural fabric. For that, we at the Scene — and I personally — would like to apologize. We'll use this as a learning opportunity and strive to do better in the future. D. Patrick Rodgers, editor-in-chief
K&S World Market on a Sunday is a testament to the sacred leisure of the day, but a test of patience for the newcomer. I circle the parking lot three times before securing a spot at the neighboring pasteleria, and as I gather my bags, I see a vendor bundled in a headscarf and a puffer jacket having an unhurried conversation with a boy as she hands him a Styrofoam cup of hot chocolate. In that moment I understand the mindset of the patrons entering and exiting the shop: of having no place more important to be.
The past year has been no time for extravagance, and balms for the isolation have come in the form of impulse Turnip Truck visits and sudden urges to curate an organic and sustainable pantry. I found a grocery goldmine in the shops on Nolensville Pike’s interminable strip. My first trip to K&S stems from two things: the advice of culinary friends and the fact that two supermarkets I visit regularly lack the ingredients I need (red curry paste and fish sauce).
When I enter through the sliding double doors, I’m immediately in the heart of the produce section. The first word that comes to mind is "reverie," and then "variety." Bananas come in red, baby, Manzano and the standard (priced 20 cents cheaper than Kroger’s organic kind). Avocados the size of my open palm adorn an unassuming corner; melons, cucumbers and peppers are quadruple the size and half the price.
Diversity and cost-efficiency are recurring themes throughout the store. A full butcher and seafood section is located in the back with live crabs, tilapia and lobster. The last time I saw a tank in a grocery store was definitely in the late ’90s inside of a Walmart. I feel a rush of nostalgia, that sense of childhood advocacy I felt on seeing the lobster tanks, but also delight at the fact that I can purchase fresh tilapia at K&S for $4.99 per pound. I text my mom to see how much she spent on crab recently; she says $50 per pound. I reply, “K&S has live crab for $17.99/lb, joke's on us.”
I make my way through the rest of the shop. Entire aisles are dedicated to myriad spices, rice stacked to the ceiling and salt galore (Samin Nosrat would be overjoyed). As I’m looking through the snack aisle, a thought snaps me out of my fixation on fried-chicken-flavored Lay's: This place caters to everyone. I look up and see a Middle Eastern family, an elderly Asian man, a Latina grandmother and her granddaughter, and a white couple near the end of the aisle. This is the real Nashville.
As I enter the checkout line, I’m reminded again to slow down — no self checkouts here. There's a little girl with black pigtails flowing down her back ahead of me. She’s got her eyes on a footlong strand of marshmallow called “crazy legs.” Her dad plucks one down for her and she beams. I exit the store and stop for a hot chocolate from the vendor. When I ask to take her picture she squints and pointedly strikes me down. I laugh and jog away in embarrassment, thinking to myself that an hour spent here on a Sunday is a better way to meditate on life than sitting in a foldout chair on the lawn of one of Nashville’s megachurches. I also saved a ton on groceries.
K&S offers two locations: one on Nolensville Pike in South Nashville and the other on Charlotte Pike on the West Side. Soon in my quest for exciting new eats, I hope to visit locally owned Fresh&Fresh, the palatial new Patel Brothers Indian marketplace, and the Mazfresco located in Plaza Mariachi.
