Chow, Baby has seen the future, and life will never be the same: Last Wednesday was the grand opening of North Texas' first Central Market. Plans to camp out at Chapel Hill Tuesday night to be first in the door went awry; thus at 2 p.m. Chow, Baby found itself among the tasteful moneyed in a line that wrapped around the block, wondering if black jeans and a Dash Rip Rock t-shirt would make it past the bouncer.

But the line moved fast, and soon all were mushed inside the 75,000-square-foot mecca. It was a rock club cum art museum, a Godzilla-sized Zabar's but with a friendly, helpful staff. Cheese manager Will Whitlow passed out kilos of samples while a clerk took precious minutes to introduce Chow, Baby to prosciutto cotto, which apparently isn't really prosciutto but looks and tastes just the same, for one-third the price of the Parma di stuff. Chow, Baby spent the savings on clotted cream, boysenberry juice, and pitted kalamata olives.

The store's one-way layout -- you MUST buy all produce now PROCEED to meat NO u-turns at the 600 varieties of cheese -- thwarted Chow, Baby's normal no-list shopping style, based on chaos theory. Or maybe it's string theory. After failed attempts at swimming upstream for honeydew, Chow, Baby emerged four hours later with two days' worth of hors d'oeuvres, and only $80 poorer.

Those who are accustomed to Whole Foods prices or who drive to an Austin Central Market every three weeks will survive the sticker shock, if not the sheer beauty of the food. The $14.99/lb Key West shrimp were the largest medium shrimp ever, about 20 per pound. The black tiger shrimp, $19.99/lb, were the size of a lobster tail. No lie: They ran about three to the pound. Chow, Baby had one shrimp for dinner, with leftovers for the next day's salad, and considered it a bargain.

It's like lettuce. You can't just have plain old lettuce these days (or as of the mid '90s); you have to choose among arugula and curly endive and chicory, and you have to put fancy vinaigrette on it. Or like a car: You have to have On-Star and arc-welding headlights and satellite TV. You can't have a plain old coffee shop anymore; you have to have a complete lunch menu, too. Since last year, the lunch menu has to include wraps.

Park Hill Sandwich Company, born Park Hill Coffee and Tea in 1989, has added some new wraps to its menu. The Greek Chicken Wrap is fine -- it's a Greek salad in a tortilla -- and the Southwest Veggie Wrap (black and red beans, corn, guac, cheese, jalapeño) is fresh and tasty. But when Chow, Baby goes to Park Hill it's for the not-too-mayonnaisey smoked-chicken salad, the not-too-sweet freshly squeezed lemonade, and the very sweet almond roca. Sometimes -- most of the time -- the classics are best.