I've mentioned before my dad taught Russian in Long Beach, CA at the high school level. When the Soviet fishing trawlers docked in San Pedro, I would accompany him and handfuls of his students down to "the Russian Ship" so that his students could practice their Russian on native speakers. He did this so often that he got to know damned near every captain of every Soviet vessel that ever came to port. On several occasions, we'd go pick several of the Soviet sailors up and take them around. (Aside: Interestingly - and I hope I still have the photo of them - we once took two of them to Disneyland. This was when Walt was still alive and only a year or two earlier had famously refused to allow Khrushchev admission to the park.) At any rate, I distinctly recall the absolute awe with which the Soviets admired our supermarkets. Our grocery stores impressed them more than anything else in the country.