Tom Yost wrote:
On another thread there was discussion about how milk was once
delivered to your doorstep and bread was wrapped in waxed paper.

I don't remember that but my mom talks about it. The butter was delivered,
as well. They had an ice-box, not a refrigerator, so the ice-man cometh,
too We're talking 1930's/1940's.

I remember visiting my grandparents in the early 60's. My grandmother
never learned to drive. But in the neighborhood within a few blocks,
was a butcher shop, a bakery, a produce stand and a small general
grocery. (may have been a candlestick maker as well, but I don't
remember that...)

My grandmothers never learned to drive, either. It was a short walk to the
shops down the street (very small town). No supermarkets there to this day,
as far as I know. In fact, I'm surprised the town is still there. It was a
steel mill town and the mills shut down in the 1970's.

40 years later, I look back at how old fashioned this seemed, but
realize that comparatively, it is similar to the way a chef shops
daily for ingredients for his restaurant.

Yep! But if you're talking restaurant chefs, around here I only know of one
restaurant chef who actually shops daily for ingredients. In most
restaurants they get deliveries from Hardins-Sysco and a local produce
company (around here it's Palazola Produce).

I think if I lived in a big city that had an ethnic district with
small specialty markets that were in fairly close proximity, I would
stop each day on my way home from work to shop and choose the freshest
ingredients for the evening meal. Not every day but perhaps a few
times a week.

Tom

Back in the early 1980's I lived in an apartment building that was built
around 1920. In the butler's pantry there was a small door, about 1 foot
tall, which opened onto the inner hallway in the building. This was where
the delivery guy would pass through the milk & butter deliveries. There was
a dairy just down the street that still did home delivery in 1983. Now that
it's 2006 I don't know if they still deliver, but I miss that apartment!

Jill