DISPATCHES: THE TRUTH ABOUT CHEEZ-WHIZ

“LADIES! LADIES! YOU GOTTA BUY THIS. THIS IS THE GREATEST INVENTION,” Mariann Raftery says loudly, waving a plastic bag of prepared salad greens in the middle of the local A&P in Scarsdale, an affluent suburb just 15 miles north of New York City. Seven well-dressed Japanese women, pens poised over notebooks, nod politely, not entirely sure what to make of this latest piece of American ingenuity. “It’s so convenient,” Raftery explains. “And now they have cole slaw too.” But there are so many more mysteries to ponder at the A&P. Michiko Takai wants to know: “Which are most popular for children-alfalfa sprouts or onion sprouts?” “Alfalfa,” Raftery replies after thinking it over.

Meeting a need she discovered, Raftery is leading one of the supermarket tours she began eight years ago as an extension of her role as cooking teacher and unofficial den mother to the large Japanese expatriate community here. Having raised three children, Raftery, 37, has accumulated a practical knowledge of middle-American cuisine and cleaning products that she now cheerfully dispenses to her students, most of them house wives whose husbands commute to work in Manhattan.

The produce section continues to divulge its secrets. “Ladies! Americans are getting away from having one kind of lettuce in their salads,” Raftery declaims, pointing out the arugula and radicchio. “But I have to confess that if I give these fancy kinds to my kids, they say, ‘Maaaa …'” She segues into a recipe for fried zucchini sticks (“Really nice for company”).

Most of Raftery’s students are eager simply to learn how to use products that are completely new to them, American staples like ersatz whipped cream, ready-made pie crusts or-that native classic-squeezable cheese. “They ask me, ‘What is this, and what do you do with it?’ or ‘How do you eat this?'” Many adapt quickly; one former pupil now extols the virtues of Kraft macaroni and cheese as a quick and easy children’s breakfast. But at first the sheer abundance of an American supermarket can be overwhelming. Pausing before an array of 22 varieties of bread crumbs, Raftery soothes her bewildered charges: “Use any kind you want to. Just read the label to make sure there’s nothing artificial.”

The women praise Raftery’s knowledge of both American and Japanese cuisine. “She tries to take into account Japanese taste,” Hitomi Yoshida says appreciatively. “Less sugar, more salt, and not so much turkey or lamb. Just pork and beef and seafood.” “Mariann widened my shopping choices,” says Takai, who, having dutifully taken one sample of each item Raftery has described, is visibly strained by the weight of her shopping basket.

An auburn-haired woman finds her way blocked by the group. “I should be listening to this,” she confides. “I’m from Germany.” She asks the ladies for advice on “a sweet soy sauce.” Pleased at being able to help, they offer spirited recommendations.