When is the last time you were excited about the opening of a grocery store? I’m talking drooling anticipation, not a mere “Hooray, this one will be seven blocks closer than my current store.” How about so thrilled that it is the topic of conversation over cocktails and at dinner parties?

The new HEB Buffalo Market has generated those kinds of over-the-top expectations. I blame marketers and advertisers. Long before it welcomed shoppers, billboards announced construction and targeted an opening date. While it was being built and behind a fence, friends of mine would ask if I had seen it yet. They would knowledgably murmur their approval while leaning in to tell me that it is designed by an architect. As if that in itself made it noteworthy. They implied, that most other groceries are clearly not “designed.” Therefore this store must be different, right?

Unfortunately it is not.

At least not in any groundbreaking architectural way, and it certainly isn’t changing the way that one shops for groceries.

Admittedly, after all the hype I approached the store with skeptical trepidation. It was, after all, designed by the admired San Antonio architectural firm of Lake/Flato. On the whole, I approve of their work and think their reputation is well deserved. That said, they’ve missed more often than hit the mark recently, especially with their larger scale projects. The Buffalo Market falls somewhere comfortably in between.

Despite the multi-colored metal paneling on the exterior facing Buffalo Speedway (clearly intended to evoke the oh-so trendy shipping container craze), the store from this point actually looks pretty damn good. The simple landscaping in the setback provides nice foreground to the butterfly roof.

The front facade is an expanse of blue glass that reminds me of a large container store. A greenish stucco wall stares back with the emblazoned logo of the Central Market Cafe. (Central Market and Buffalo Market are both owned by HEB.) I wish the cafe didn’t turn away from the parking lot and toward the interior of the store. This decision highlights a missed opportunity to incorporate life beyond the endless back and forth of shopping carts. Contrast this to Central Market on Westheimer where the cafe spills outdoors and has bands and conversation and laughter. Similarly branded, this green stucco monster seems to frown on the very notion of happiness.

Adjacent to the cafe wall, the entry is a disappointingly uninviting vestibule. A bit too large to merely pass through, it feels awkward with spartan walls and a few rows of shopping carts as your only greeting. Though it is clearly indicated as the main entrance, I found myself wondering if I somehow had discovered a side entry. Alas, no.

After a blast of the requisite A/C (seemingly at near freezing levels though outside it was an overcast and cool Houston morning), a large open space of vegetables and fruit, islands of sushi and cheese greeted me. Forget for a moment about the tangle of wires suspending the lighting and you are treated to a fantastic variety and selection of perishables. This is a model shopping experience.

The aisles aren’t too high, so not only is everything right at hand level and easily accessible but you can see everything beyond. Unlike the forced pathways that so many of us lament at Central Market, wandering seems to be encouraged here. The butterfly roof opens this entry space up and brings in natural light. So far, so good.

And then one crosses into the heart of the store. At a certain point the ceiling flattens and drops down, still comfortably high but much more reminiscent of a “normal store.” Fluorescent lighting takes over and endless parallel aisles are accented with garish sale signs jutting from shelves and hanging above. I have heard many people say that this this part reminds them of the grocery stores of their childhood. I didn’t grow up here.

So I had a theory that I tested out on my next visit. I recommend that you begin at the end. If you enter from the “exit” (the right side if you’re standing in the parking lot and facing the store), you’ll encounter an extremely banal grocery store, complete with a pharmacy that resembles a CVS.

But as you move through the store toward the fresh produce, slowly it will open up. The natural lighting will glow down almost invitingly and you can end your shopping experience with the extravagances of the cheeses, sushi and wine selections.

A slight detour will reorient you toward the check-out and back out into the parking lot. You’ll leave with a good feeling about the store and a smile just might creep onto your face.

Just don’t look back at the cafe.