I never expected that turning fifty would make the grocery store feel like a foreign country. Yet there I was, wandering through aisles in Chicago with a shopping basket in one hand and pure confusion in the other.
Even the spices looked like they were judging me. Cooking felt overwhelming, and cookbooks seemed to speak a language I wasn’t fluent in.
So instead of diving into culinary school or watching complicated cooking shows, I let the city teach me. Chicago grocery stores became my teachers, my patient guides, and sometimes my unexpected comedians.
Over time, these seven stores helped me find confidence and joy in cooking, one slightly burnt dinner at a time.
1. Jewel-Osco (Lakeview)
Where I mastered the sacred art of reading labels.
This is where my real cooking education began. At first, I treated the baking aisle like it was sprinkled with landmines. On one memorable day, I discovered that baking soda and baking powder are not the same thing.
I spent a good ten minutes staring at both, reading labels like I was preparing for a final exam.
Jewel-Osco also taught me small but crucial adult lessons: how to choose broth that isn’t too salty, how to check expiry dates without panicking, and how to walk confidently through the produce section even when I had no clue what to do with leeks. It was my training ground, and I’m oddly sentimental about it.
2. Mariano’s (Bucktown)
The grocery store that felt like a school field trip.
Mariano’s made me feel like a curious student again. The samples alone deserve an award. Cheese cubes, slices of fruit, tiny cups of smoothies — I treated them as a tasting curriculum. Each sample came with a little spark of inspiration.
The store layout is bright and welcoming, and I always felt encouraged to explore new ingredients without fear.
I learned about grains I had never heard of, tried sauces I couldn’t pronounce, and even discovered that homemade pizza is actually possible after fifty.
3. H Mart (West Loop)
Where I rediscovered childhood flavours and got adorably lost.
Walking into H Mart was like walking into my childhood kitchen in China — and also like walking into a giant maze. I have never been more delighted to get lost. The noodle aisle itself feels like a universe with its own gravitational pull.
Here, I reconnected with flavours I grew up around: chilled tofu, sesame oil, pickled radish, scallion pancakes. At the same time, I experimented with new things I had never used as an adult.
H Mart reminded me that cooking is not just about recipes. It is about memory, identity, and play.
4. Trader Joe’s (South Loop)
The frozen section that saved me from disaster many, many times.
Trader Joe’s was my safety net. Whenever I tried a new recipe and failed spectacularly — which happened more often than I care to admit — I would quietly take out a frozen meal from Trader Joe’s and pretend that the delicious result was mine.
Their frozen section deserves genuine applause. It kept me fed while I improved my skills, and it taught me that shortcuts are not signs of failure.
Sometimes they are acts of self-care. And I still proudly use their sauces and snacks to rescue meals that go off track.
5. Green City Market (Lincoln Park)
Where I learned what seasonal produce actually means.
Green City Market felt like stepping into a world where vegetables had personalities. For the first time, I learned what produce looks like when it is truly in season. But I also learned how intimidating heirloom tomatoes can be.
One farmer kindly explained how to choose them, and I realised how much knowledge lives in these open-air stalls. This market helped me move away from routine cooking.
It encouraged me to experiment with fresh ingredients, ask questions, and bring home vegetables I had never seen before.
6. Cermak Fresh Market (Pilsen)
Where I learned to choose chiles without burning off my eyebrows.
Cermak Fresh Market is vibrant, energetic, and full of life. It is also where I learned that chiles are not all created equal. During my early visits, I made the mistake of assuming they were interchangeable. They are not.
A kind shopper explained the difference between mild, medium, and absolute-fire chiles.
Thanks to her, I began choosing peppers more confidently and even adding heat intentionally instead of accidentally setting my taste buds on fire. This place expanded my flavour vocabulary in the best way.
7. Old World Market (Uptown)
The quirky speciality shop that pushed me into new spices gently.
Old World Market became my spice classroom. The store is full of herbs, spices, and blends from around the world, many sold in small amounts.
That was a blessing for me, because it meant I could experiment without committing to a huge jar.
Trying new spices in tiny quantities gave me freedom. I learned what worked for my palate and what didn’t. And because the shop feels welcoming and slightly nostalgic, I never felt out of place, even when I asked very basic questions.
The Moral of My Journey
You do not need culinary school to learn cooking, especially after fifty. You just need curiosity, patience, and a city like Chicago whose grocery aisles double as classrooms.
Every store taught me something, whether it was how to choose olive oil, understand produce, accept shortcuts, or reconnect with flavours from my past.
Cooking after fifty has been one of the most joyful adventures of my life, and Chicago guided me through it one aisle at a time.
Hi there! I’m Olivia Chen-Williams, a 54-year-old late-blooming cook, career coach, and the face behind Turn Around At 50 – a food blog that proves it’s never too late to start something new (even if your first attempt burns to a crisp!).
