It’s a sunny Saturday morning, and the tables are filled with yoga-clad 30-somethings sipping chai and munching on millet muffins. Tanned and fit bikers tote reusable bags of coconut water and organic power bars, while moms order gluten-free cheese pizza for their hungry charges.

Meanwhile, a local artisanal cheese company is handing out samples of queso de mano, and a nutritionist is lecturing on antioxidants in pomegranates.

If you haven’t figured it out by now, this is a typical scene at any number of Front Range natural food stores. And say what you will about price or excessive crowds or the virtues of small co-ops, it’s just a whole lot more fun than your mom’s Saturday morning shopping forays.

Let’s go back about 150 years, long before suburban sprawl and big box stores. A shopping trip meant a visit to the village square or the trading post, or a trip to the butcher for meats, the baker for breads, and the fishmonger for delicacies from the sea. “Grocery store” meant dry, packaged goods, like beans, rice, flour and salt. These many stores were often grouped in the town center, and a shopping trip necessarily became a social event. People met and mingled. Town gossip was exchanged, finery was worn, a good time was had by all.

Then, in 1916, with the opening of the first Piggly Wiggly in Memphis, the grocery store as we know it began to emerge. In the mid-‘50s, spurred by the growth of suburban communities and the advent of industrial food production, grocery stores continued to expand, offering other goods like hardware and household items, and the term “grocery store” took on a whole new meaning—as did the term “grocery shopping.”

Suddenly, a trip to the grocery store was a utilitarian event, done with as little fanfare as possible, another chore to check off the to-do list. Many of us can remember those early shopping trips: mom charging down the aisles, tossing jars of Ovaltine and Tang and boxes of Post Toasties into the cart as she tried to keep us kids in tow.

Of course, “health-food stores” were around, but these were more of the hippie co-op or mom-and-pop pill shop variety, a place to get jars of nutritional yeast, bags of dulse and bottles of B vitamins. Then, in the early ‘80s, a handful of forward-thinking food retailers forever changed the way we would buy our seaweed and supplements.

“One of the biggest changes was when natural product stores started focusing on food, in addition to pills and supplements,” says Barney Feinblum, co-founder, along with Mark Retzloff and Hugo van Seenus, of the upcoming Alfalfa’s Market in Boulder, scheduled to open in April.

Where to go
The Front Range is home to a number of health food stores and co-ops. Here’s a list to get you started:

Alfalfa’s Market
alfalfas.com

Eden Valley Country Store
eden-valley.org

Cabin Country Foods
(970) 669-9280

Fort Collins Food Coop
ftcfoodcoop.com

In Season Local Market
inseasonlocalmarket.com

Lucky’s Market
luckysmarket.com

Mountain Mama
mountainmamanaturalfoods.com

Mountain People’s Co-op
mountaincoop.com

Rocky Mountain Natural Store
rmnstore.com

Sammy’s Organics
sammysorganics.com

Sprouts
sprouts.com

Sunflower Farmers Market
sfmarkets.com

Natural Grocers by Vitamin Cottage
vitamincottage.com

Whole Foods Market
wholefoodsmarket.com

The original Alfalfa’s, founded by Retzloff and Hass Hassan in 1983, along with Wild Oats Market, founded by Mike Gilliland and Elizabeth Cook in 1984, were the first local stores (both in Boulder) that truly began to merge health food store offerings and conventional grocery store merchandising. “They didn’t see themselves as competitors,” Feinblum says. “They cooperated, advised, created standards for the natural food retail industry.”

And they flourished. “It was the ideal time for a big change in the food retailing business,” says Gilliland. “Part of it was environmental consciousness; part of it was a growing awareness of the benefits of organics and the dangers of pesticides. The economy was flush. It was the perfect storm of issues.”

And while it can be argued that we, the consumers, created the industry by demanding organic food, pleasurable shopping experiences and higher-quality offerings, the fact remains that today’s natural food store has also created us, the new generation of discerning, highly aware consumers.

“They’re not just grocery stores,” says Feinblum. “They speak to a whole lifestyle, a way of being in the world that encompasses health consciousness, environmental awareness and local ideals. And they’ve created a way to share community and values.”

Those early stores paved the way for our modern shopping experience; they’ve taken health food from hippie to high-end, and created a sense of community, entertainment and shared values. We might as easily go to the grocery store for a chair massage, a chai latte or the latest news on safe plastic drinking bottles, as for the week’s groceries.

Shopping as an adventure
Many of us remember grocery shopping as a burdensome task. Now, between the samples and the ready-to-eat offerings and the row upon row of gourmet items, “it’s an experience, rather than a chore,” says Ben Friedland, executive marketing coordinator for Whole Foods Market’s Rocky Mountain Region. “One of our main goals is to make shopping fun, to make it an experience of foraging, browsing, discovering new foods, to make it more like an adventure than anything else.”

On any given day at local stores, you’ll find cooking classes, local vendor demos, kids’ activities, bike-to-work celebrations, healthy eating dinners, dog washes, nutrition lectures, live music, or any other number of events. And central to the adventure is the food itself, says Friedland. Back in the old days, when some of us were being dragged around Super Shop by our harried moms, food was still a commodity. Sure, people liked to eat and all – but this was long before the days of the celebrity chefs and imported cheeses. Natural foods stores were instrumental in that joyful movement.

“One of the big triumphs of the 1980s was the blur between natural, gourmet and international,” says Feinblum. The happy result is that harissa, mango chutney and pomegranate molasses are tucked in among the pickles and tomato paste, and you’re just as likely to find truffle oil as tofu at any local natural food stores. Food is no longer just consumed; it’s adorned, revered, celebrated.

Vivid new tastes
Nowhere is the celebration of food so vividly manifested as in the stunning variety of offerings. Row upon row of natural sodas, organic chocolate bars, gluten-free crackers, raw cookies, imported olives – you could nosh for days and never taste the same thing twice. The sheer vastness in size of the modern natural food store has made that possible. Before 1980, a 10,000-square-foot store was sizeable. Now, the revamped Whole Foods Market on Pearl Street in Boulder measures a breathtaking 68,000 square feet.

And that stunning variety of foods has changed our lives in ways we may not consider. In addition to spurring the organic movement and prompting an explosion of nutrition awareness, the profusion of offerings has made life livable for foodies with dietary restrictions. The gluten-free category is a perfect example. Ten years ago, if you had Celiac disease, you’d be hard-pressed to find so much as a tolerable gluten-free cracker. Now, even a modest natural foods store carries dozens of gluten-free crackers, breads, tortillas, cookies, cakes, chips and muffins. The same goes for, say, vegan or lactose-intolerant or raw diets; aisle upon aisle of alternatives exist.

The abundance of offerings has extended to prepared foods aisles. Once almost an afterthought tucked back in the far corner of the store, the prepared food section is a central showcase, where you’ll find anything from raw berry crisp to gluten-free pasta salad to vegan “meat” loaf. Alongside those specialty offerings, of course, are the rotisserie chickens and the grilled Gruyere cheese sandwiches and the mashed butternut squash.

“The sluggish economy has really fueled the growth of the prepared foods section,” says Friedland. “People are more concerned about money, and they’re not eating out as often. Take-home and heat-up foods are the perfect solution.”

Meet me for lunch
But the take-out crowd is only part of the picture; many of us treat the natural foods store like a mini-bistro, and it’s not uncommon to go to the store and come home empty-handed, but full of food. Where else can you get an affordable, often organic, meal geared to any number of special diets, in less than 30 minutes? At the new Alfalfa’s, you’ll also find a mini coffee shop, with plenty of seating (and while you’re eating, hook up your electric car to a bank of charging stations outside). “People like to sit and hang out,” says Feinblum, “especially when there’s coffee around. Why not make it comfortable?”

Lest you begin to think of natural foods stores as theater, most retailers are quick to remind you that they’re dead serious about their offerings. Local vendors are a primary focus at any natural foods grocery. If a product is locally produced, it’s proudly advertised as such, and you’ll often find signs telling you a bit about the producer, or meet local growers in store demos.

And they’re passionate about organic, especially when it comes to produce. In Sunflower Farmers’ Market’s many stores you’ll find a distinct farmer’s market approach; the store is mainly produce, with fewer grocery items and an outdoor market feel.

“We stack the produce high, so you can see it literally across the store,” says Sunflower CEO Chris Sherrell. “It’s very different from conventional stores, where you’ll have a football field of shelves, and you feel like you’re wandering around through a maze. We intentionally keep the height of our shelves low profile so people can see the whole store.” The end result is a sense of spaciousness that simulates an open-air market.

But no matter the shape or size of the venue, from expansive and open to more traditional in layout, the end result is the same: natural food stores are changing our lives. They’re no longer the faceless boxes with row upon row of florescent lights, some buzzing, where we trudge off to get our butter and eggs. We linger, we discover, we indulge, we exchange gossip and news. And, like the town square of old, we might just wear our modern version of finery.

Lisa Turner is a food writer, intuitive eating coach, and cooking and nutrition instructor at Bauman College of Nutrition and Culinary Arts in Boulder. Visit her websites at www.TheHealthyGourmet.net and www.InspiredEating.com.