How to Shop the Co-op, pt. 1

My limited-income foodie’s conundrum:
I can taste the value of all-natural foods, and my budget can’t.

Oh, man, organic produce...

A lot of people consider “organic” more expensive, but I think that’s a sham. Before questionable crop-dusting and genetically engineered potatoes, all food was organic. It represents the food our ancestors ate. Today, I think, there’s normal food, and the cheap stuff.

We see other industries this way. It’s accepted that the Sony is likely going to outlast the half-the-price Oritron. We invest in frequent oil changes, quality gas and motor oil to keep our cars running smooth.

Maybe we resist better food because our budgets are exhausted, literally, at the end of the day. Our bodies are capable machines, and they’ve served us well enough with what we’ve fed them, so what’s the problem? I tried a few months with so-called “organics.” And when I returned to “normal” food, I was sincerely surprised. My findings:

First, the flavor’s missing. I’ve been eating Co-op produce most meals since November, and after a decade of indulgence, finally gave up salad dressing. A few weeks ago I returned to my favorite other market and proudly bought a huge basket of veggies. But when I tossed up a salad, it was… flat. Almost tasteless. I wondered how I’d never noticed it before, and realized I’d been covering up my flavorless produce with Green Goddess. It was kinda shocking.

Mmmm... greasy.

Second, the return of the venerated “food coma.” My aunt and uncle went vegan six months back. Following a week of healthy Thanksgiving fare (organic turkey; homemade seitan; locally grown nuts…), they took us stragglers out for Saturday night Chinese. A food coma is pretty simple: your body diverts energy from other systems to digest the extra or hard-to-process load. For the first time since I can remember, the grease in my meal felt foreign. I couldn’t stand up without swaying. Knowing my body was overwhelmed now, I saw overeating with a little less American pride.

It seemed I had to stick with the organics if I wanted a happy belly. The problem, of course: the money. Now I hit you with most shocking news of all: the Co-op’s less expensive than you think.

First there’s membership ($15/year or $200/life). You’re issued a dividend at the end of the calendar year, tantamount to your average spending in a week. Additionally, you can volunteer for the Co-op, and every shift, you’ll receive a set of 18% discount cards, good for one checkout. That’s what employees enjoy.

Let’s not neglect the weekly member specials in your basket. Every department represents, and the cuts can be deep. As Mark, store manager in Nob Hill, is quick to point out, just one monthly purchase from the list will save more than your membership costs. They’re available on the Co-op mother site all week, to help you plan.

February is a Volume Discount Month. Spend…

$0.00-$74.99 · 10% off

$75.00-$149.99 · 15% off

$150.00 or more · 20% off

Speaking of volume, the bulk bins are a sight to behold. Got $5 and an almond jones? Want to make your own seitan? Granola breakfast for a month? No cheaper way in town.

Then there’s coupons.  Our monthly newsletter, Valpak (in your mailbox), couponbug.com, and the CAP Advantage booklet (issued quarterly, in-store) all discount everyday items. The CAP booklet often even features FREE items. Some manufacturers (Kashi, Rosie, Organic Valley, among others) offer printable coupons right on their websites, so check your favorites.

Bulk is cheap!

You want more? Several vendors offer weekly and monthly deals on specific products around the store.

Finally, a couple of Produce-specific specials. When certain items are approaching expiration, we’ll put them in $.99 bags, available weekly. (Ask the Produce manager at your store for further details.) Last, as logic has it, buying in-season can save you as much as $5/lb.

So try eating “organic” for a week, chase it with a “normal” meal, and see how your body feels. If you’re half the skeptic I am, you too will be printing coupons and planning around the sales. With a little effort, you can make great food fit even the tightest budget.