To Hell and Back for Cheap Groceries: The Epic Investigation (and Shocking Results) of My Grocery Store Price Comparison Quest

Today, I’m talking about grocery store prices.

I chose this topic because I’m worried. Terrible times are ahead. We’ve been writing a lot about politics—and we’ll keep doing so—but it can feel like scream-preaching to the void-choir. We’ve been wracking our brains to come up with nourishing, material strategies to help our followers through the lean times ahead.

Right now, all I want is to give you guys an easy win. If I could use my time and talents to help you folks save $20 a month, I’d be good with that. Groceries are something we all must buy in order to live. So I opened a small investigation comparing prices at a few local grocery stores.

My “small investigation” became the most time- and labor-intensive topic I’ve ever covered for Bitches Get Riches.

This investigation hauled me bodily to the summit of my abilities, then cast me down the mountainside of my own ambition into a boiling, stinking chasm of magmatic insanity.

Do you want to save $20 a month? I’m positive I can help you do it. But there’s a price to be paid. You’ll have to come with me on a journey. A journey from the worst grocery stores in America, all the way to the best.

Casual visitors, turn back! You don’t need to notice deceptive unit pricing at our nation’s largest budget retailers! You can spend your whole life not caring about the product-to-price ratio of frozen pizzas! Swallow the blue pill and sleep forever in ignorant bliss. I don’t judge you; I envy you.

But if you really want to save money on groceries, take a deep breath. Take my hand. Trust me.

We’re going to hell and back for cheap groceries.

Disclosures

Absolutely no one has given us money for this project. Bitches Get Riches is COMPLETELY independent from any of the companies or products profiled today. This investigation was funded in its entirety by the support of our Patreon donors.

Open our company wallet. A cartoon moth will buzz out and attest to the truth of all I have said.

The Investigation

For a long time, I’ve had a nagging suspicion that my perception of food prices isn’t matching my reality.

• I went to “cheap grocery stores” and walked out with a confusingly large number on my receipt.
• Sales, coupons, and memberships felt increasingly irrelevant.
• Big chains with deep pockets surprised me with dirty stores and low inventory.

I bet I’m not alone in that feeling. The pandemic shook our supply chains and inflated prices so quickly that many people feel unmoored from familiar grocery store price expectations.

My goal with this investigation was to visit as many of America’s most popular grocery chains as I could. And my guiding principle as an investigator was to compare apples to apples wherever possible for the most accurate results. (I’m going to say the phrase “apples to apples” a lot. Please do not take a shot every time; you will expire.)

So I developed one grocery list and took it to seventeen different grocery stores in one geographic region over three days. I documented the price for everything, and I slammed it—quivering and naked—into a merciless spreadsheet. By shopping for the same stuff, in the same towns, at the same time, I’d finally peel back the artifice of sales and luck and good reputations to get clear, undeniable proof of which grocery stores are actually cheap.

The methodology

This segment is for the Data Nerds. Normal People have permission to skip ahead to the results. I promise you won’t hurt my feelings. Once I hit publish on this bad boy, I plan to sleep for six weeks, so I’m not gonna see the stats anyway. 

“Which stores did you visit?”

There are many ways to calculate what makes a store popular. Is it the amount of grocery product purchased? The revenue? Or the total number of stores, or employees? What about independent stores and international grocers? We took all of those factors into consideration and arrived at a diverse list of 30 major grocery chains.

Geographic location and local competition are important factors in pricing. For that reason, I limited my investigation to options I could personally reach within a reasonable drive. Luckily, I live in a very dense area with a ton of stores. I was able to visit more than half of representative locations from that list, for a total of 17 stores.

That’s right, 17. You thought I was lazy—but it turns out I was crazy!

“What!? You didn’t do [insert favorite store here]?!”

I live in New England. Unfortunately, that means I have to skip a lot of region-locked heavy-hitters, like Publix in the Southeast, Kroger in the Midwest, H-E-B in Texas, and WinCo Foods out west.

Luckily, many of your local favorites may secretly be national companies with regional branding! For example, you may think you don’t have an Albertsons in your area because you know it as a Jewel-Osco, or a Safeway, or a Von’s. I’ll highlight popular variations as we go.

Recent acquisitions might feel different from their new owners—but in my experience, ownership homogenizes regional stores pretty quickly. As the Bard said: “a rotisserie chicken by any other name would smell as sweet!”

“Did you include any international food markets?”

Absolutely!

Though they’re not as large as the multinational giants I covered, these places are very important to their communities. They often have fresh produce at low prices because they buy directly from manufacturers elsewhere in the world. My area has a large Latin American population, so I made sure to represent them.

Originally I planned to include my favorite local Asian grocer. But as I was driving around, the radio was offering hourly updates on a completely unnecessary trade war with China spiraling prices up into shamefully ridiculous new highs. I decided it would be incredibly unfair to visit that small grocer during what’s probably the scariest, most chaotic week in its proprietors’ lives and callously rank their prices and inventory like the sky isn’t falling down on them right now.

Guys, here’s my ten favorite things to buy at Asian grocers! If you’ve never gone to one, now’s a great time to go give them a little business.

“Why are convenience stores on here? Those aren’t grocery stores!”

I didn’t initially plan on including convenience stores. But my research revealed that corner stores like CVS and Walgreens supply a lot of America’s groceries.

If we excluded them from the list, it would ignore the reality that—for one reason or another—many Americans buy their food at convenience stores. Living in a food desert, lacking transportation options, being disabled, or working hours that make it impossible to visit conventional stores are pretty common American experiences.

Our readers are financially savvier than most. No spoiler for them that convenience stores are expensive places to buy food! But plenty of people will be shocked to see the extent of the price disparity. Hopefully this investigation will help them to stay informed consumers.

“Are membership stores included?”

Nope! Costco and Sam’s Club are out!

I know this exclusion hurts. Frugal people talk about Costco like Disney Adults talk about The Oogie Boogie Bash: with a frequency and passion that outmatches ANY listener’s interest level. And these stores are high on the list of America’s largest grocery store chains. But in the interest of fairness, I had to throw them out of this investigation.

Membership stores subsidize their lower base prices with a paid subscription model. That’s fundamentally different than a normal store, and its value is entirely dependent on how you use it. I can’t do that math for you! But you can absolutely use the data in this investigation to gauge its value for you.

For the same reason, I have not counted Whole Foods’ additional discounts for Prime members.

“What about sales and coupons?”

I’ve included sales that are available, for free, to the general public, if they required only a reasonably small effort to obtain.

For example, one store offers sales with a store membership card. I don’t love that. But the card is free. You can get one inside the store anytime. You can even tap a button on the self checkout that says “I forgot my card” to get the sale price. I call that reasonable.

Another store advertised sales that required you to download and install their app, or physically print the coupons. Even if I did that, more than half of sales required the purchase of greater numbers than I planned to buy. (“Buy 3 get 1 free!”) I call that unreasonable.

At the end of the day, the base price is the price I care most about. But I strove to capture both the value of frequent, convenient sales and the simplicity of stores with everyday low prices.

“How’d you decide what to buy?”

I wanted to come up with an extremely normal American shopping list. (International readers, please hold all jokes about squeezey cheese and marshmallow fluff until the end of the presentation.)

Now, I know I’m not normal. My friends and acquaintances have been saying so for years! So I consulted consumer reports for the most popular purchases for every major category in a typical grocery store.

• My list had to encompass all departments, so that categorical price gouging had nowhere to hide.
• For half of the items, I designated a brand preference; for the rest, any brand or generic was acceptable.
• I did not choose luxury upgrades (like organic vegetables or free-range chicken) unless it was the only version on offer.
• Tofu and gluten-free flour were chosen to gauge a store’s nutritional inclusivity. These aren’t niche foods, and haven’t been for a long time. I expect all grocery stores to stock them.
• I chose tampons, baby wipes, and dog biscuits for a similar reason. Any store without them is asking you to stop at 1-2 additional stores, which feels worthy of consideration.
• I accepted substitutions if they performed the same basic function as the original item I wanted. For example, if there was no American cheese, did they have any other mild white cheese that melted?

“Let’s see the full shopping list!”

Here’s exactly what I looked for. If you’d like to compare your favorite store with the prices I’m showing below, have at it! I’d LOVE to hear from others in the comments.

1. Seasonal fruit: strawberries
2. Staple vegetable: russet potato
3. Bakery: a loaf of unsliced French or Italian bread (preference for something baked on-site)
4. Meat alternative: a brick of tofu (firm or extra-firm)
5. Deli: sliced American cheese
6. Meat: boneless skinless chicken breasts
7. Fish: uncooked shrimp (fresh or frozen, 1 pound, 21-30 count)
8. Spices: ground cinnamon
9. Specialty: Gluten free flour (preferably King Arthur)
10. Canned good: black beans (15-30 ounce)
11. Condiment: ketchup (preferably Heinz, 20 ounce)
12. Dry good: cereal (preferably Honey Nut Cheerios, 10.8 ounce)
13. Snacks: buttery crackers (preferably Ritz, 10.3 ounce)
14. Frozen prepared: a pepperoni pizza (preferably Red Barron Classic Crust)
15. Hygiene: tampons (preferably Playtex Sport, size regular)
16. Household: dish soap (preferably Dawn Ultra, 18 ounce)
17. Baby: baby wipes (preferably Huggies Simply Clear)
18. Pet: dog biscuits (preferably Milk Bone, size medium)
19. Drinks: grapefruit seltzer (preferably Pamplemousse LaCroix)
20. Dairy: whole milk (1 gallon)

All my calculations are based on unit weight, scaled to the closest actual measurement for its packaging. So milk is scored by the gallon, but cinnamon is scored by the ounce.

… And yes, I chose Pamplemousse LaCroix because it’s the funniest thing to say. What of it??

“But this list would be so much cheaper if you just—“

Shhhhh.

You don’t have to tell me menstrual cups are cheaper per use than tampons, or Aldi’s Wheat Rounds are just as good as Ritz. We’re not here to bicker about the list! You can evangelize the cost-savings of dried beans versus canned beans on your own blog.

“What about factors beyond price—like food quality, or store accessibility?”

Food quality is incredibly important. But it falls mostly outside the scope of this particular investigation, as taste and diet are incredibly personal. You’ll have to decide that for yourselves!

We’ve done two taste-tests in the past heavily featuring store brands. It was some of the most fun we’ve had while writing for Bitches Get Riches—and not just because we tricked our friends into eating dog biscuits! Which, to be clear, we did. And by “we” I mean “I.”

• Store-Brand Cheez-Its Taste Test
• Store-Brand Oreos Taste Test

This investigation is chiefly concerned with price. I think most people would endure a suboptimal shopping experience if they left with a trunk full of delicious, affordable food.

But that softer stuff is a good tie-breaker; all other things being equal, I’d much prefer a tidy store with happy employees. So for this investigation, I took notes at every store that go well beyond the issue of price. Here are some things I noticed.

• What was the general vibe of the place?
• Was the store clean?
• Did the perishable food look and smell fresh?
• Was the layout easy to navigate, with helpful signage?
• Were there any noticeable accessibility challenges or benefits?
• Did anyone greet me or offer to help me?
• Did the employees seem happy and engaged—or like they wanna die inside?
• Did I have a loss prevention encounter? (*FORESHADOWING*)

“Wait, what’s a ‘loss prevention encounter…?’”

It means they thought my ass was stealing, and they followed me around trying to prove it.

I was scrutinized for loss prevention five times during my investigation.

First, let me say—don’t flatter yourselves. On my worst day, I’m Aladdin. On your best day, you’re the palace guard. Not even the one with lines! You’re THIS one:

If I were there to steal, nobody tried the most obvious and effective thing (greet me and offer help). If they had, I happily would’ve explained what I was doing. Instead, they followed me at a distance, then swooped in close to “straighten shelves” a foot away from me. If I looked at them, they’d jump back and basically do that inconspicuous-cartoon-whistling thing. It ain’t subtle!

To be fair to these stores, I did not look or act like a typical customer. I walked in without a cart or basket. I spent about an hour in each store, looking at a lot of products, but never buying anything. After getting tailed twice on my first day, I realized my outfit also looked shady—I had a hat on, plus a super baggy cardigan with deep pockets. To keep things fair, I repeated this outfit for all visits.

I don’t like to spend my money at places that cultivate an adversarial position against their employees or customers. So when it happens, I’ll note the circumstances. Readers of color in particular may appreciate these warnings, as at least one store on my list had been sued for racially discriminatory loss prevention practices in the past.

(Just kidding. It’s like, actually all of them.)

“What if a store didn’t carry an item?”

I hemmed and hawed over this—but I really like where I landed!

Many stores didn’t carry all 20 of the items on my list. The result was that low-inventory stores looked cheaper than they really were because they didn’t carry half my list. How could I account for this to make apples-to-apples totals?

Realistically, if you have a baby and your local store doesn’t carry diaper wipes, are you going to shrug your shoulders and say “oh well, guess my kid’s ass must go unwiped?” No! You’re going to have to go to a second—or third!—store to find the missing items.

So that’s what I did.

If a store didn’t sell tofu, the price of tofu listed is the average of every other brick of tofu for sale in the stores that do carry it. This seemed like the fairest way to account for stores with less-than complete inventories, because it reflects what such a shopper would actually spend to get the missing items. The only flaw is failing to capture the hassle and annoyance of visiting a second location to get normal household staples.

The Results

The order of the following grocery stores is based on price ONLY, from most expensive to cheapest.

It isn’t necessarily my personal ranking of the stores. I’ll make my feelings on each one abundantly clear in the end!

#17: Whole Foods Market

• Operated by: Amazon
• Funding: Publicly traded (notably Jeff Bezos)
• Number of stores: 500

Cards on the table: we’re Amazon haters. I expected to have to grudgingly give Whole Foods a decent rank because I thought their massive purchasing power would at least drive down prices.

Thrilled to discover I was wrong! They’re the worst company and they have the worst prices! I love being right!

Amazon Prime membership discounts are supposed to make Whole Foods more affordable. But only ONE item had a Prime sale: an extra $0.44 off of strawberries. It brought the price down to $3.99 per pound, which was the base price at every single mid-range grocer.

I wasn’t a huge fan of the store. The signage was so artsy that I couldn’t actually read it. The shelves were too high to reach all products. Their little eating area is admittedly nice, but I think the chairs may have been a non-standard height? When I sat down to type up my notes, I bashed the shit out of my pussy. Rude.

The craziest thing I saw was a gigantic box of organic spuds, each with a sticker clinging onto it for dear life. After speaking with a former WFM employee, I learned this is to differentiate organic potatoes from commoner potatoes. I appreciate dedication to avoiding cross-contamination. But, uh, is all that sticker glue organic, too? The price difference between the two is only $0.30. Why offer non-organic potatoes at all? Surely paying an employee to sit and hand-ornament each lordly potato isn’t worth the cost of their labor…? 

Imagine this.

You are the parent of a newborn baby.

You bring your baby home from the hospital, and you marvel at her tiny perfect hands, count her tiny perfect eyelashes, and wonder in reverent whispers about what she’ll grow up to do with her one and only life.

Would you ever think your precious child would one day grow up to be asked to put labels on every individual potato inside a gigantic crate of potatoes for the benefit of a man who owns a yacht that has its own yacht?

Whole Foods was the most expensive source for strawberries and tampons. The tampons—mon dieu! Their store brand was SO expensive it distorted the average cost upwards for every store that didn’t carry tampons, artificially forcing their total scores down. At $60 per 100 count, they were 250% more expensive than others. It’s the only item in the entire test that I tossed from the product averages as an unacceptable outlier.

Guys, it’s a cotton ball on a string. Get’cher glowing-brain tech guys together and figure it out.

Whole Foods was the cheapest source for… nothing!

• Music Playing: Tears for Fears, “Sowing the Seeds of Love”
• Store Vibe: If house-flipper gray were a grocery store; aesthetics prioritized over crucial maintenance or the well-being of its occupants
• Employee Vibe: Busy, slightly snarky
• Loss Prevention Encounter: No
• Items Obtained: 20/20
• Substitutions Required: 7 (carried no preferred brands save Cheerios)
• Sales Offered: -$2.56
• Total Cost: $156.89

#16: The Fresh Market

• Owned by: Private equity (notably Cencosud)
• Number of stores: 160

I’ve never been to a The Fresh Market. I’ve gotta say, as a former branding professional, wow—this is THE worst name for a chain I’ve ever heard. How many people in marketing and legal begged leadership on their knees to change this name? Have fun litigating that trademark until you cave and rebrand…

Perhaps because the name is so generic, I expected the store to be generic as well. I was surprised by the dark and almost moody upmarket interior.

The store had a fun walky layout, but it prioritized aesthetics over convenience. For example, some crackers are in the chip aisle, but others are in a bread aisle two rows away, and still others are in a soup aisle two rows in the opposite direction. It’s weird.

Once I started looking at prices, I was gobsmacked. I’ve never seen such expensive food in my life. If Whole Foods hadn’t shot itself in the foot with its obscene tampon prices, The Fresh Market would’ve easily won the thorny crown of Most Expensive Grocery Store.

Speaking of tampons… The Fresh Market doesn’t sell them. Or pads, or cups, or menstrual products of any kind. (Don’t worry, they also don’t sell baby wipes or diapers. You can relax. The Fresh Market is a tasteful retailer.)

And frankly, you don’t need them. Because what The Fresh Market does have is three different varieties of ready-to-eat marinated baby beets. Whether you’re looking for organic classic vinegar or white wine balsamic, The Fresh Market has you covered! Sure, their unit prices are fucked up. But you don’t need to know what they cost, right? They’re essentials.

Marvel at this stunning feature wall dedicated to nine hundred varieties of bulk artisanal organic trail mixes. The resplendent orderly abundance of this wall is so important they repeat a few of the mixes to fully maximize its explosive visual splendor. Obviously, The Fresh Market couldn’t possibly spare six square inches of shelf space for a few overpriced organic cotton maxi-pads.

Next time I’m feeling leaky at The Fresh Market, maybe I’ll shove a pound of their Women’s Vitality Nut Mix up my twat and see if that does the trick! It’s got dark chocolate in it—I’ve heard that’s great for periods!

I was followed for loss prevention, this time by an employee. Personally, I think it’s distasteful to force regular employees to do this. Send the store manager, you cowards!

The Fresh Market was the most expensive source for potatoes, bread, tofu, American cheese, cinnamon, black beans, Cheerios, dish soap, dog biscuits, and pizza. That’s more than any other retailer! And they were the cheapest source for nothing.

When I left The Fresh Market, I texted my partner to expressly forbid him from ever setting foot inside one. That’s not me being controlling—that’s me being protective.

• Music Playing: Ruth B., “Dandelions”
• Store Vibe: Sexy food dungeon
• Employee Vibe: Acquiescent
• Loss Prevention Encounter: Yes
• Items Obtained: 18/20 (no tampons or baby wipes, ew)
• Substitutions Required: 3 (bread not baked on-site; frou-frou dog biscuits and pizza only)
• Sales Offered: -$4.95
• Total Cost: $137.67

#15: Roche Bros (aka Sudbury Farms)

• Funding: Privately owned by the Roche family, plus one controlling investor
• Number of stores: 20

I very much wanted to visit local independent stores. I chose Roche Bros because I knew they were exclusively family-owned until just a few months ago, when they sold a controlling share to their longtime supplier.

It’s a shame that Roche Bros felt like a hollow imitation of other luxury grocers.

Their prices were the highest of all the local grocery stores. And I didn’t feel the value of the higher prices anywhere. The staff were pleasant and attentive, but felt neither warm nor white-glove. I wouldn’t say the store was especially lovely. The floors were so shiny it highlighted the imperfections in the vinyl and made me feel a little seasick walking around. Their selection was complete, but not exceptionally broad or deep.

The layout was strange. The first aisle was baking, but it had no gluten-free flour. (Gluten-free stuff was in its own section in the canned soup and veg aisle.) The second aisle was cereal and baby? There were big, clear signs all over, but they were often misleading. In the frozen section, three different coolers were labeled “organic.” Normally, layout isn’t my top priority—but it struck me as emblematic of the store’s identity crisis. Are they luxury or mid-market? I’m not sure they really know.

Basically, Roche Bros didn’t make itself stand out in any meaningful way. And the prices were outright painful. They had the most expensive chicken by far, and were tied for the most expensive American cheese, grapefruit seltzer, and frozen pizza. Like the other luxury grocers, they were the cheapest source for nothing. Most of their prices hovered in the top quartile.

• Music Playing: KC and the Sunshine Band, “That’s the Way (I Like It)”
• Store Vibe: The poshest grocery store imaginable in 1996
• Employee Vibe: Bustling yet available
• Loss Prevention Encounter: No
• Items Obtained: 20/20
• Substitutions Required: 2 (no bread baked on-site, no Pamplemousse LaCroix)
• Sales Offered: -$0.80
• Total Cost: $133.02

#14: CVS

• Funding: Publicly traded
• Number of stores: 9,100

CVS had the worst selection of any store I visited. They carried only half of the items I wanted. That means that half of their “total price” is an average of what those items cost at other stores. The less a store has in stock, the less accurately I can compare them apples-to-apples.

For this reason, I almost threw them out entirely, leaving me with 16 stores—perfect for a tournament format! But that sounded like too much work on graphics for me. You’re lucky I’m lazy, CVS!

It’s worth noting there’s huge variation in convenience store inventories. I’ve been in CVSs, Walgreens, Rite Aids, and 7-11s that have big, nice grocery sections because they’re in an area where that makes sense. (In fact, 7/11s in Japan and Hawaii have some of the most delicious snacks I’ve ever tasted. I’d waste a lot of money at 7/11 if they brought sonno somōku to America.) I chose both a Walgreens and a CVS that seemed dead average.

CVS’s sales and coupons were easier to understand, and more generous than their main competitor, Walgreens. But their base prices were also higher.

CVS was the most expensive source for baby wipes, dog biscuits, and milk. The base price of their cereal would’ve been the most expensive at a shocking $11.24 per pound for fucking Cheerios, except it was on sale. Their ketchup was also technically the most expensive overall, though partly because they only offered its more upmarket version.

I really don’t appreciate the particularly obnoxious business practice of their unit pricing. All prices in the store were calculated to the smallest possible denomination, presumably to make the price appear as affordable as possible. They think we’ll be all like, “Wow! Only ¢6.9 for each individual baby wipe?! What a steal!” Every other store on my list (save one) calculates such items per 100 count. They do this for everything, so I had to plug it all into a unit pricing calculator to work out its equivalent value. Grow up, CVS…

• Music Playing: none, aww
• Store Vibe: Even the post-Easter clearance candy feels too expensive
• Employee Vibe: Counting the minutes until shift’s end
• Loss Prevention Encounter: No
• Items Obtained: 10/20
• Substitutions Required: 1 (primo ketchup and an alternate pizza)
• Sales Offered: -$6.81
• Total Cost: $126.16

#13: Walgreens 

• Funding: Was publicly traded; recently became private equity (Sycamore Partners)
• Number of stores: 8,700

I have lovely memories of pocketing my babysitting money and pedaling my purple mountain bike over to my local Walgreens. I ate a lot of Little Debbie Swiss Cake Rolls. Like… a lot. They made me big and strong!

These days, my experiences with convenience stores aren’t quite that magical. I’m usually there to pick up some kind of medicated ointment. I’d like to grab a bag of Cheddar Jalapeño Cheetos while I’m there—just to offset the medicine with some unhealthy shit to return my body to its homeostatic norm.

But I can’t even look at the snacks, because every bag of chips is seven fucking dollars!

Convenience stores are well-named. They’re convenient, and I do expect to pay a small fee for that. But their pricing has become so out-of-control that some items cost 40 or 50% more than they do at any nearby big-box store.

At that point, why not call yourself a punishment store? “You forgot to bring ketchup to the cookout—now you must scamper across the street and pay $8.79 for it, you dumbass loser!”

Walgreens’ sales were strange and often hard to parse. “$2/16 or $9.99 plus $3 off on 2 with coupon” feels like a reading comprehension test. And although there are many people who enjoy the lawful-evil thrill of couponing, I find it onerous and boring. And problematic, since I rarely have good service inside these stores.

Walgreens was the most expensive source for my preferred brand of ketchup and tampons. And that’s despite the ketchup only coming in a larger bottle, which should’ve done the unit price a favor! It was the cheapest source for nothing.

• Music Playing: 98 Degrees, “My Everything” (my GAWD, this song goes hard)
• Store Vibe: We know you’re here for the ointment
• Employee Vibe: A little Party Down
• Loss Prevention Encounter: No
• Items Obtained: 12/20
• Substitutions Required: 2 (huge ketchup and store brand pizza)
• Sales Offered: -$1.75
• Total Cost: $120.20

#12 Shaw’s (aka Albertsons, Acme Market, Jewel-Osco, Rite-Aid, Star Market, and Vons)

• Operated by: Albertsons Companies Inc.
• Owned by: Private Equity (Cerberus Capital Management)
• Number of stores: 2,250

After I’d entered all the price data from all the grocery stores, I was honestly surprised at how conveniently they clustered together into clear tiers.

Whole Foods, The Fresh Market, and Roche Bros are luxury grocers. Their prices are in the stratosphere.

Further down in the troposphere came the avoidance stores—excuse me, convenience stores—CVS and Walgreens. They tiptoed up to a reasonable upcharge for convenience, then took a cartoonishly massive step over it. They’re shamelessly overpriced, and they’re paying for it now, as consumers are increasingly shunning them. Good! Please keep doing that!

Now we’ve reached the relative safety of the mid-market tier. These are your typical neighborhood chain grocery stores. If I haven’t been able to cover your region’s biggest chain, you can expect they’re somewhere in this middle area.

The differences between these chains are subtle. They all had similar inventories, similar prices, even similar store designs. I’ll do my best to highlight their differences.

Shaw’s was the first store where I didn’t have to accept any substitutions. They had six of my twenty items on sale—more than any other store I visited. Although I took note of a frustrating layout. Milk was hidden in the far back corner of the store, forcing you to stomp to Mordor and back for staples.

I actually liked the vibe of this store a lot. It had a lot of community conveniences, like an appliance rental kiosk, a key-cutting machine, and a food bank donation box. While I was there, I got a nice warm vibe from the employees. Many had illogically thick New England accents—which is always a plus. I visited on a warm day, and I overheard a manager begging the guy on cart collection to take a break for water. (“Watah.”) I notice and appreciate this kind of conviviality!

Despite my appreciation, Shaw’s is at the bottom of the mid-market tier. Their base prices are simply not competitive. Their bread was fresh, but it was $6 a pound—that’s more expensive than the loaves at Whole Foods. (Not counting the free surprise loaf I left for Jeffy B. in Aisle 2, heh heh.) Shaw’s was tied for the most expensive source of sliced American cheese, and many of their prices hovered in the top quarter alongside the luxury grocers. Once again, they were the cheapest source for nothing.

Unfortunately, I think Shaw’s sales are deceptive. Not intentionally, maliciously misleading—just easy to overestimate. For example, their strawberries were on sale for $3.99 from $4.99. A buck off sounds like a lot, but in reality, that sale price is still higher than the average base price among midrange stores. And many of their competitors had strawberries on sale too, also for about a buck off.

Walking in and seeing “SALE!” signs everywhere gives you the impression you’re about to save a lot of money. But that just doesn’t bear out in the data. 

• Music Playing: Demi Lovato, “Heart Attack”
• Store Vibe: Typical chain grocer, but cleaner and warmer than most
• Employee Vibe: Overheard one say “dude, I’m stahvin” lmao
• Loss Prevention Encounter: No
• Items Obtained: 20/20
• Substitutions Required: none
• Sales Offered: -$5.17
• Total Cost: $117.36

#11 Seabra Foods

• Owned by: Privately owned by the Seabra family
• Number of stores: 16

Let’s pause the discussion of the mid-market grocery chains to say a little about regional South American grocer Seabra. (Which I hope I’ve pronounced respectably as “say-ah-brah?” I took sign language and Japanese, so if I’m wrong, 怒鳴らないでよ!)

This small chain was founded by Américo and Maria Seabra, a Portuguese immigrant couple. The business has been continued by their six children. It stocks Portuguese, Brazilian, Mexican, Spanish, Ecuadorian, and Peruvian foods, among others.

I’d never been to a Seabra before. I wasn’t sure what I was in for, but this store exceeded my expectations.

The location was tiny yet delightful. They carried classic American staples alongside the more exotic options you expect from an international market. The meat counter was especially lovely. The glass was spotless; the meat looked colorful and fresh; everything was arranged with evident pride and care. The staff had pleasant conversations with their customers that indicated they knew their regulars. It also might’ve been the cleanest store I visited. The customer before me bought meat, and the belt was wiped down as soon as it was bagged—a best practice ignored by a surprising number of other locations.

I found my favorite brand of cinnamon tea biscuits, which I haven’t had since visiting Puerto Rico. I was really happy about that, as you can see!

My test was fundamentally unfair to Seabra. I chose popular American items, which are clearly not their specialty. Seabra was the most expensive source for Ritz crackers. I’m positive if I was hunting for Saladitas or Piraque cream crackers, they’d offer inventory and prices no other grocer could.

Seabra is the first grocer to be the cheapest source for something: fresh bread! They had a glass case full of fresh-baked Portuguese rolls that were $0.25 a piece! These definitely fit the bill for the “loaves of unsliced French or Italian bread, preferably baked on-site” I wanted. And they were close to half the price of the next cheapest competitor.

If this test removed branded, prepared American staples like Cheerios and Ritz, Seabra would jump several places. Without those items, it’s comparable to the cheapest of the mid-market chains, and goes toe-to-toe with Trader Joe’s.

 I’ll definitely add this place to my regular rotation!

• Music Playing: Coldplay, “Adventure of a Lifetime”
• Store Vibe: Impeccable; clean, cool, cozy, cute
• Employee Vibe: Friendly and warm, with great attention to detail
• Loss Prevention Encounter: No
• Items Obtained: 16/20 (no tofu, gluten-free flour, or pizza—fine!—but also no tampons—hmph!)
• Substitutions Required: 4 (all minor variations: larger Cheerio boxes only, small Milk Bones instead of medium, etc.)
• Sales Offered: $0
• Total Cost: $114.93

#10 Stop & Shop (aka Food Lion, The Giant Company, Giant, and Hannaford)

• Operated by: Ahold Delhaize
• Owned by: Publicly traded company
• Number of stores: 2,000

Ahold Delhaize is a large European chain that’s slowly acquired a big portfolio of American stores. My regional variant is Stop & Shop.

I know this brand really well because I used to live within walking distance of one. They have a reputation for being affordable, and I think that used to be true… but every time I’ve gone in recent years, I’ve come away with the impression that it was far pricier than I expected. And that bears out in the data.

This store was not impressive—but credit where credit is due, it used to be much worse. It had a reputation around town for being dirty, empty, and understocked in the past. It was much better when I visited this time. However, my improved opinion was tempered when a store manager began following me closely around the store, pretending to be looking for something that seemed to always be in the vicinity of my hands. Boo, guys!

I appreciate that the store coupons are easily obtained with or without a membership card—which makes me wish the whole card thing was eliminated altogether. Seems passé.

Stop & Shop was the most expensive source for gluten-free flour, and was the cheapest source for nothing.

• Music Playing: Paul Simon, “Call Me Al”
• Store Vibe: 90s middle school, all linoleum and humming florescent lights
• Employee Vibe: Subdued, suspicious of me
• Loss Prevention Encounter: Yes
• Items Obtained: 20/20
• Substitutions Required: 1 (bread not baked on-site)
• Sales Offered: -$3.02
• Total Paid: $106.75

#9 Market 32 (aka Tops Friendly Markets, Price Chopper, and Market Bistro)

• Operated by: Northeast Grocery
• Owned by: Privately owned
• Number of stores: 300

Northeast Grocery was founded in 2021 as a merger of Tops Friendly Markets and Price Choppers.

I love the names for both of those stores because they both have a strong brand promise baked right in: chopped prices, friendly markets! Love it!

… But they’ve elected to chuck them both and convert all stores to a new name: Market 32.

I have very little information about what the whole “Market 32” brand is supposed to be, because their corporate website says “coming soon” and presumably has for the past four years! So let’s join hands and fly blindly together, like a bunch of albatrosses playing Red Rover in a category 5 hurricane.

As a former branding professional, I’m withholding comments about this store’s name. Nobody cares that I think it’s sci-fi-ically generic, and almost as bad as the The Fresh Market’s.

I also won’t comment on their logo. I won’t point out how the tilde-like leaf over the inexplicably shriveled 2 makes the 2 look like a 5. I’m not going to ask why we went with a stacked version that appears to say “Mar 35 By Price Ket Chopper.” I won’t point out the horrific embarrassment that is using the wrong colors for your own logo on your own website. Or how there are four different greens on just your central landing page. Are you SURE your marketing team is safe? You’re 100% sure there’s no gas leak in their offices? Do you want my consulting rates? They’re very reasonable, especially in the context of your $300 million dollar rebranding budget.

(Sigh. Sorry, folks. There are two wolves inside of me. One is productively judgmental. The other one is UNproductively judgmental. When I try to let one out, the other one gets out too. They go everywhere together. They’re both girl wolves, but I think they’re girlfriends. They’re not microchipped. My neighbors keep calling the police non-emergency line to report the wolves running free and being rude to them.)

This was my first visit to a Market 352, and I’ll say I was impressed by the store interior. It’s obviously been redone recently. It doesn’t have that “I was designed by someone who also designs grade schools and jails” feeling common among stores built in earlier decades. The lighting is dramatic, almost moody. There are nice big signs, a good flow, and the prettiest end-caps of any store I visited.

Their prices were uneven. Market 32 was the most expensive source for shrimp, by almost double. (Its base price was $16.99 per pound; all other stores averaged $9.01 for the same amount.) Technically, it was on sale for $3 lower than that, but even that sale price towers over everyone else. It was also tied for the most expensive brand name frozen pizza. However, it was the cheapest source of Ritz crackers of any store I tested.

Truly, a mixed bag.

… Like the greens on their website.

• Music Playing: Louis Tomlinson, “Bigger Than Me”
• Store Vibe: Sleek and modern, far better than its branding implies
• Employee Vibe: Truthfully, I encountered too few in this giant, mostly empty store to form a strong opinion
• Loss Prevention Encounter: No
• Items Obtained: 20/20
• Substitutions Required: None
• Sales Offered: -$8.09
• Total Paid: $103.88

#8 Trader Joe’s

• Owned by: Privately owned by the Albrecht family
• Number of stores: 600

The first time I ever visited a Trader Joe’s, I was in college. I needed a handful of things, and someone told me it was cheap.

In the entryway, I walked past the store’s in-house artist hand-lettering a new chalkboard sign, and my butthole clenched. “Fuck,” I thought as I walked past bright-eyed store employees stocking fancy-sounding ingredients in beautifully designed packaging. “Why did I come here? I can’t afford to shop here! I’ll get the bare minimum and go.” Truthfully, I was too scared to read the gorgeous, calligraphic price labels.

I approached the checkout, fearing the bill to be $30 or 40. It was more like $12. I breathed a sigh of relief and added the store to my list of cheap bastard safe spaces.

Later in life, I was caring for my partner after major surgery. I didn’t have enough hours in the day to make food from scratch the way I usually did. But after an exhausting day of work, caregiving, and double-duty chores, I craved the satisfying comfort of well-made food. Trader Joe’s frozen foods really saved my sanity during these months. Mandarin Orange Chicken, Thai Vegetable Gyoza, Palak Paneer with Garlic Naan: stand and be recognized!

When I was stressed out and overwhelmed and crying, nothing stuffed the sad back down its hole quite like a furtive handful of TJ’s Caramel Sea Salt Baking chips. Don’t fold the bag shut—you’ll be back!

Obviously, I have positive feelings about Trader Joe’s overalll.

Their stores have always been tidy and efficient, with their signature quirky, artsy kitsch. Their employees seem genuinely passionate about the food they offer. My official visit for this test was no different. I walked past one employee enthusiastically teaching another about a “killer mocktail” utilizing one of their new seasonal offerings. If I’d seen this anywhere else, I’d’ve assume I was being trolled. But TJs employees genuinely seem built different.

The business model of Trader Joe’s is built different, too. Most stores have to negotiate with the suppliers, makers, and distributors of the foods they sell. If customers like me want Cheerios and Ritz crackers, grocery stores have to buy them from General Mills and Nabisco. Behind the scenes, there are complicated agreements where they may have to take shipments of less popular products in tandem. It slims their profit margins and creates instability—which is why they offer generic store-brand products. It’s less hassle AND less cost for them.

Trader Joe’s takes the generic advantage further. With a handful of exceptions, ALL of their products are their store brand. They simple do not offer Heinz ketchup and Dawn dish soap. Unsurprisingly, this meant Trader Joe’s had the highest number of substituted items of any store I visited.

The trade-off is that their prices are much lower. Trader Joe’s was tied for the most expensive source for seltzer. If I was willing to accept their store-brand substitutes, they were the cheapest source for ketchup (which was organic by default!), Cheerio-like cereal, Ritz-adjacent crackers, and perfectly serviceable liquid dish soap.

Trader Joe’s seems intent on keeping their store brand synonymous with quality. I’ve gone there in the mood to make impulse purchases. There are always new things to try; most are hits, few are misses, and a very respectable number are home runs. And the stores often offer free samples, though there were none on the quiet weekday afternoon I went.

There’s really only one thing I’m dissatisfied with when it comes to Trader Joe’s. And that’s their union-busting.

… Oh you thought I was just here to rave about frozen enchiladas and Two-Buck Chuck?

Trader Joe’s has long enjoyed a pretty wholesome reputation. They don’t have a typical advertising model—instead, they try to create positive experiences in their stores, and let happy customers go out and do the advocacy for them. The employees at Trader Joe’s are a big part of that. I’ve only met employees there who were helpful, knowledgeable, proactive, friendly, and really good at tempting me to throw one more thing in the cart. In other words: highly engaged workers.

When workers are highly engaged, they do better work. Which Trader Joe’s loved! They rode the positive interactions their employees created to record-high profits.

But highly engaged workers do other stuff, too. They advocate more for their customers and their fellow employees. Which Trader Joe’s didn’t love. Its owners, the Albrecht family, are a reclusive and secretive clan. (They have been since their patriarch was kidnapped and held for ransom in the 1970s. A true story you can read about on your own time!) Transparency isn’t really their thing. 

At some point, those highly engaged employees realized they needed more power to make things better for themselves, their stores, and their customers. They started talking about forming a union.

And Trader Joe’s wholesome mask slipped all the way off.

The VERY abbreviated version of events is this: In order to stop unionizing efforts, Trader Joe’s busted out the classics of worker intimidation. They separated and interrogated staff, threatened to cut pay and benefits, tried to close troublesome stores outright, held captive audience meetings to spew anti-union propaganda, and retaliated against key union organizers. Y’know: the kind of shit that’s unethical, illegal, or both! When Trader Joe’s wouldn’t back down, the workers took their grievances to the National Labor Relations Board (NLRB). It’s the NLRB’s job to investigate unfair labor practices and keep the playing field between companies and workers fair. So far, in the ongoing conflict with Trader Joe’s, the NLRB has consistently sided with the workers.

Fans of Trader Joe’s: what do you think happened next?

If you don’t know, I want you to actually pause for a moment and make a prediction.

Ready? Okay!

How many of you correctly guessed that the leaders of this wholesome, quirky company with great snacks teamed up with Amazon, SpaceX, and Starbucks to pool their vast wealth and resources to try to dismantle the NLRB permanently by having it declared unconstitutional? Because that’s exactly what they did.

It’s weird how much that shocked me. I’m pretty cynical about big businesses. So why does that feel like more of a disappointment—more of a personal let down—coming from Trader Joe’s?

Part of it is that Trader Joe’s positions itself as a progressive-ish company. When you boast about organic this and fair-trade that, you’re professing a certain set of values that don’t include worker exploitation.

But I think it’s deeper than that. The Trader Joe’s model has made me its advocate. I went, had a great experience, and told others about it—exactly as they hoped I would! I’ve told sooooo many people over the years that it’s a great store with great products. In doing so, I’ve aligned my identity with theirs. To accept that Trader Joe’s is doing something really wrong now, I also have to accept that I was wrong to support them. That’s a harder hill to climb for a lot of consumers.

Plus, it’s a problem I didn’t want to have! It’s 2025—what companies should I not be boycotting?! The last thing I need is more, especially if they’re the only place with good Cowboy Caviar!

There are few people alive today who remember exactly how blood-soaked the history of labor protections are in America. If this is a fuzzy memory from high school history class, let me reorient you. Ironworkers, coal miners, and factory workers were tasked with working tirelessly, under dangerous conditions, for poverty wages, while the owners of those ironworks and mines and factories squeezed them and their families slowly to death. 

Workers demanded fairer treatment. Companies refused to give it. Both sides fought for what they wanted—literally fought, with clubs and hatchets and guns and bombs. Brawls were the least of it. Riots and massacres led to the deaths of men, women, and even children. We—the workers—won that fight. We elected a government that actually built labor support structures like the NLRB, so that those people didn’t die in vain, and that violence never had to repeated.

Like the second generation of survivors of a zombie apocalypse, we’ve been living inside the safety of these structures for so long that we don’t really understand the horrors that they protect us from.

… But Pepperidge Farm remembers!

Trader Joe’s is union busting. They’re doing so at a level that isn’t merely self-protectionist. They’ve joined hands with other robber baron billionaires to use their monopolistic strength to rip apart the collective bargaining frameworks that have protected American workers for a hundred years. They’re doing everything they can to crush worker organization and grind the nascent seed of collective action to dust beneath its heel.

And a very nice heel it is, too! The Albrecht family that owns Trader Joe’s is the thirteenth richest on the planet. They have an estimated collective net worth of $51 billon dollars. Given that, I struggle to understand what is at stake for the Albrecht family, materially, when it comes to TJ employees unionizing. What is at risk for them? What is it they want in life that they can’t already have? Truly, the mental illness of compulsive wealth accumulation is a source of endless speculative fascination!

…Really spoils the taste of Speculoos Cookie Butter Spread, doesn’t it?

Luckily, my travels occasionally take me past the first unionized Trader Joe’s in the country. There, I’m happy to spend money on strange flavored cheeses like I’m Cardinal Rohan and every cashier is Jeanne de Valois-Saint-Rémy. Sadly, it’s far outside my testing zone.

On the day I visited a typical store for this test, I was on my sixth grocery store of the day. I saw the legendary Cheddar Cheese with Scotch Bonnet Chili and Red Peppers, and I was so hungry I wanted to peel the plastic off like a banana and eat the whole brick. But I held off until I could buy a similar product from a store I had far fewer mixed feelings about.

(FORESHADOWING INTENSIFIES)

• Music Playing: Hues Corporation, “Rock the Boat”
• Store Vibe: Vibrant and charming, driving culinary curiosity
• Employee Vibe: Literally so excellent that they act like extras in a corporate marketing video even when leadership isn’t around
• Loss Prevention Encounter: No
• Items Obtained: 17/20 (no GF flour, baby wipes, or TAMPONS?! SERIOUSLY?!)
• Substitutions Required: 9, half my list, the most of all stores tested
• Sales Offered: $0
• Total Paid: $102.54

#7 Price Rite Marketplace (AKA ShopRite, The Fresh Grocer, Dearborn Market, Gourmet Garage, Fairway Market, and Di Bruno Bros)

• Operated by: Wakefern Food Corporation
• Owned by: Privately owned cooperative
• Number of stores: 365

I’m very sorry to bait and switch you guys. You came here to hear me read random overpriced grocery chains for filth! Not subject you to a rushed, reductive summary of labor law!

So let’s get back to our roots with our first discount grocer, Price Rite. Or as I like to call it: Price Wrong!

Of our list, this is the first discount store—interchangeably called “dollar stores” or “limited assortment chains.” Discount stores don’t have a stable, predictable inventory. They’re more like a garage sale: come in, poke around, see what we’ve got right now. They strike wholesale deals with brands to offload excess products, so you often find less popular foods in odd sizes and experimental flavors.

How do you know you’re in a discount store? The main giveaway is that they don’t bother unboxing inventory. They save money on labor by keeping everything in its original cardboard containers. Some also expect you to bag your own groceries. Mild spoilers: there will be two more in this countdown.

Of all the stores I visited for this investigation, Price Rite was the saddest.

The floors were dirty. The fridge trays were full of gunk. Many of the boxes at the front of each pallet had been damaged, and shoppers had clearly pushed them aside to grab the undamaged stuff. So there were busted boxes spilling out into many aisles. In entire the store, there was one single box of tampons for sale. And it was open. Whoever did this, I genuinely hope you found peace.

I found ground cinnamon in a box amongst their baking stuff—but there was no price tag on it. I searched a nearby end cap and found different cinnamon—but it had no price tag on it. A freestanding shelf in another section offered a third option for ground cinnamon—and it had no price tag on it. Determined, I poured over every sticker on all three shelves, desperate to find their misplaced price tag. They were not there. Bending all my will to try to transform this reality, I checked them all a third time. The elder gods took pity on my rapidly deteriorating mind and manifested a fourth box of cinnamon, this time with a price tag. Was this the cheapest cinnamon? I don’t know! I had to take what information I could get!

An extraordinary number of products were missing labels across the store. I wish I’d worn a step counter, because I’m sure I logged a mile of confused wandering in this one store. Eventually, I had no choice but to gather up an armload of them and ring them up at the self-checkout, just to know how much they cost. I snapped a photo of their prices, walked back through the line to stuff the mystery items back on their shelves, and calculated their unit price backwards after I got home.

And while I was taking a photo of Shop Rite, Shop Rite was taking a photo of me. I’d say neither one of them is flattering.

I was inside this store for ninety minutes, trying to price just twenty items. In all my confused wanderings, did any employee offer to help me?

Nope! They were too busy mistaking me for a shoplifter. Between stalking me around the store and radiating a threatening watchfulness, how could they also find the time to initiate a conversation? About—oh, I don’t know—maybe the price of cinnamon?!

My other loss prevention encounters felt driven by the suspicious curiosity of managers, or the professional diligence of dedicated loss prevention staff. (Hold tight, that one’s coming up next!) But the encounters at Price Rite felt different. Kind of menacing, actually. I was followed, glared at, and made to feel deeply uncomfortable by at least three staff members. It’s the reason I didn’t ring up the alternative cinnamon choices to see if they were cheaper—I thought that picking up several tiny bags and bottles would send them over the edge.

I understand that shoplifting is a problem for retailers. These workers probably see a lot of shoplifters, and there probably isn’t much they can do but make them feel uncomfortable and unwelcome. But wow… Even if Price Rite had the best prices in the whole state, I would never go back there.

And they didn’t! They were the most expensive source for nothing, but their prices were generally far less competitive than I expected. They were tied as the cheapest source for only one item: frozen shrimp. 

Potatoes at Price Rite and Whole Foods cost the same. Their no-name sliced American cheese was only a few cents behind The Fresh Market’s and Roche Bros. Staples like chicken and black beans cost more there than most of the mid-market places. Their most competitive prices were brand-name items like Cheerios and Red Baron Frozen Pizza—but again, I found them cheaper elsewhere, without the awful store experience.

I want to emphasize that I’m not mad at those employees. I got a strong impression that Price Rite was an unpleasant place to work. Nobody was chatting with each other or goofing around. They seemed to be understaffed, with no one on deli. “We’re hiring” signs hung at eye level on every other cooler door.

The leadership at Price Rite likes to brag about being an American company, as many of their competitors are based in the EU. If my experience at Price Rite is typical, I’d say: please stop. America’s reputation has already taken a vicious beating lately. Leave Lady Liberty out of this; the poor girl can’t handle much more.

• Music Playing: SG Lewis, “Infatuation”
• Store Vibe: Dingy, depressing
• Employee Vibe: Surly and disengaged, teetering on openly hostile
• Loss Prevention Encounter: Oh my yes
• Items Obtained: 17/20 (no tofu, GF flour, or baby wipes)
• Substitutions Required: 4 (no fresh bread, minor swaps for tampons, dog biscuits, and seltzer)
• Sales Offered: $0
• Total Paid: $100.54

#6 Target

• Owned by: Publicly traded
• Number of stores: 2,000

Target expanded its grocery offerings many years ago to try to thread the needle with its competitors. They wanted a better selection than their big box rival, Walmart, while drawing people away from online giant Amazon by sucking them into physical stores with convenient groceries. Based on their books, it’s clearly worked well for them.

My Target’s grocery section was the busiest in the store. I’d describe the selection as good in theory, poor in practice.

They clearly don’t have enough staff to keep the shelves looking stocked and tidy. Items were pushed far to the back, falling over, or just generally messy. I saw a couple of grody coolers in my travels, but Target’s were the most disgusting, with what sure looked like ancient dried milk splattered all over the interior of the glass. That shit is disgusting.

Very little of the food was what I’d call fresh. For example, as a lover of warm, crusty bread, their “French baguette” made me shudder. It was as pale, cold, stiff, and turgid as any corpse, vacuum packed in its own body bag for maximal shelf stability. Hey, Target? The world is already teetering on the brink of World War III. The last thing we need is the French learning we’ve put their name on this. Brian Cornell, tell your bodyguards to wait outside while you serve this to a Frenchman. Go on, I dare you!

Target had my favorite loss prevention encounter of the trip. Within just a few minutes of my unusual browsing, an ETL-AP materialized at the back of the store like a Predator deactivating his cloaking device. With the benefit of long aisles and large sections, I saw him coming from a good way off. “Now now, I mustn’t jump to conclusions,” I told myself. “I need to verify I’m right about who he is and what he’s doing here.”

So I let him see me walk down one aisle. As soon as he appeared on the same aisle, I popped to a different one without letting him get close. He followed. I went back to the first aisle. He followed. I hid myself from sight along the end-cap, and when he popped out looking for me, I basically jump-scared him by being right there, staring right at him. Then I started following him, forcing him to pretend to look with great interest at whatever was nearby.

Which was a massive wall of mops.

I admit, I was kinda bored from endlessly typing unit prices by that point. So I like to think we both had fun!

I visited two big box stores (one is still ahead). At both, I was surveilled to some extent. Target’s efforts were more subtle than any other store. Maybe being tailed by a discrete undercover shopper is the better experience? It’s hard to say, when I so vastly preferred the stores that didn’t treat customers with a baseline of antagonistic suspicion at all—of which there were many! (Keep in mind I’m a middle-aged white lady and I’m not usually the kind of person who gets “randomly selected for extra screening.”)

My general impression of Target is that it’s a shining example of shareholder-driven enshittification.

Enshittification is a complex process, but to put it most simply, I believe it’s a problem of broken incentives. Let me explain it with a timely metaphor.

In the original Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion video game, you could play the game pretty much any way you wanted. If you wanted to run around bashing enemies with a big stick, you’d specialize in Athletics and Blunt weapons. If you’d rather sneak around robbing the townsfolk, you’d pick Sneak and Pickpocketing instead. As you leveled up those core skills, your character’s total level increased, and the enemies around you increased in strength to present a greater challenge.

…Except that’s not how many players did it.

Savvy players realized that if they chose skills they NEVER used as core skills, they’d never level up. They’d stay technically weak and low-level, and so would their enemies. But the skills they really used kept increasing, without pushing the player’s total level up.

The result was many strapping, burly characters clad in heavy armor, with massive two-handed axes, carrying an ID that swore up and down they were limp-wristed alchemists. By the end of the game, their worlds were still stocked with beginning-level-difficulty rats and goblins, whom the player could send flying halfway to Morrowind with a single swing, just because they weren’t any better at being alchemists.

And that’s pretty much what both publicly traded and venture capital-owned companies have done to themselves.

Their goal isn’t actually to run a great store—it’s to grow shareholder profit. Their goal isn’t to create a stable investment, with a realistic business plan, where people love to work. They don’t care about silly things like customer sentiment and employee well-being! Not unless those things slip so far that they start to impact the only thing they really care about: shareholder value.

These companies don’t even really care about the things they sell—only the money that selling them makes. And they desperately want that number to grow, quarter over quarter over quarter, until men are fairy tales in books written by rabbits.

There are only three ways to grow shareholder value: raise prices, lower costs, and find more customers. To their chagrin, they’ve recently learned there’s a finite number of people on the planet, and a lot of them don’t have enough money for any Hearth & Hand™ with Magnolia by Joanna Gaines for Target home decor and storage solutions! So they’re really focusing on lowering prices and cutting costs. After years and years of making all the simple, easy, obvious changes, they are desperately whittling chunks off their own bones in order to keep that shareholder value climbing at all costs.

That’s why at many publicly traded and venture capital-owned chains, like Target, you see the destructive evidence of cost-cutting everywhere you look.

COVID-19 was the perfect cover for exciting new lows, especially where it concerns employees. To keep the nation fed during the pandemic, a hundred thousand grocery workers fell ill. Hundreds of them died—thousands, if you include the family members to whom they carried the virus home. They were traumatized by customers who refused to mask up, screamed, and spat at them. They were also victimized by their employers, who were trying to establish their extraordinary collective heroism during a genuine life-and-death crisis as the new baseline for business as usual.

So there aren’t enough workers to do all the work. Roles get listed but stay unfilled. Workers are scheduled 15 minutes shy of full-time status so they can’t qualify for basic benefits like retirement and healthcare, but they also can’t easily fill their remaining time with another job either. These are choices that save the company money; they’re also choices that sicken and kill people.

So why should these employees care? What’s their incentive to do good work? If someone worked really hard to fix this section, would Target recognize them with a raise and a promotion? No—they’d keep them right there. They love an employee who does the work of many without demanding additional compensation. That’s their dream hire for every role.

Any effort—any dedication, any pride, any care—is instantly snatched up and burned on the sacrificial altar of inflating shareholder value. 

So that’s why the sections at Target look like this. You might hear it’s because employees today “don’t wanna work, they just don’t care!” And I’m like: yeah! Why should they? What incentives has Target built to give their employees a reason to care about anything they do?

The question is: what are YOU gonna do about it? Shop somewhere else?

I hope you can! A lot of big-box stores stormed in with ultra-low prices and put all their local competitors out of business. Now that they’ve raised their prices, some customers don’t really have an alternative.

It’s why they were happy to profit off Pride Drag every year, but stuffed their DEI policies down the memory hole the moment the winds changed. They have no values. Only shareholders. I’m glad it’s blown up in their big dumb faces.

Target was the most expensive source for nothing. It was tied for the cheapest source of Ritz crackers, and was the cheapest outright for cinnamon! It’s an even better deal than it sounds, since they throw in all this *bonus* cinnamon caked on the outside of the fucking jars!

• Music Playing: Megan Trainor, “All The Ways”
• Store Vibe: With a sweeping gesture at all the defensive employees, disordered products, slapdash inventory, and shark-like loss prevention officers: “Behold! Our endless bounty of shareholder value!”
• Employee Vibe: Obviously friendly with each other. Reminds me of Law and Order detectives: always working in pairs for their own protection, joking and snarking through the horror of what they see every day. I wonder if they know about unions…
• Loss Prevention Encounter: Yes, the only dedicated professional
• Items Obtained: 20/20
• Substitutions Required: 3 (no fresh bread or American cheese, only upgraded baby wipes)
• Sales Offered: $0
• Total Paid: $98.68

#5 Dollar General

• Owned by: Publicly traded
• Number of stores: 20,000

Of the discount stores, Dollar General was my favorite store experience. But they had the slimmest selection of groceries, and like CVS and Walgreens, can barely be said to have groceries at all.

Why did I like the experience? Well, it was the only store on the entire list where I was greeted upon entry. When I walked in, someone, somewhere called out “hel-lo!” This was so unexpected I was downright startled. I couldn’t even see who spoke! Between the store’s tall shelves and narrow aisles crowded with half-unpacked inventory, my experience of the employees was only as voices. Could they have been g-g-g-ghosts?! Entirely possible! The Beetlejuice cartoon led me to believe ghosts yearn for career fulfillment just like the rest of us.

This was the only store playing not just music, but a local radio station. I thought it was coming through speakers in the ceiling, but no! It was actually a BATTERY-OPERATED BOOMBOX perched on the tallest of the shelving units! This had theater-kid energy. I was in the presence of problem-solvers. They were all very friendly, chatting and laughing while they worked together, though I also never saw them. Fantastic spooky vibes on this fine spring day.

There isn’t much to say about the Dollar General beyond its inventory and prices. Inventory-wise, this is a discount household goods store that also sells snacks. Maybe that one thing you forgot.

The one thing that I want to call out is their garbage unit pricing policy. The unit price of every single thing in the store is calculated to the smallest possible denominator. Now, I had to be careful about this as I went through every store. Some stores list the unit price of a $4 gallon of milk as $4 per gallon; others list it as $1 per quart. So I had to always double-check that I’d noted the correct unit of measurement to keep things apples-to-apples.

Dollar General and CVS were the only stores to list everything by the tiniest possible measurement. Black beans were ¢8.8 per ounce. Baby wipes were ¢4.3 per wipe. By the time I’d been to my first few stores, I could quickly gauge where on the list each one might fall. Not so with Dollar General! I had to wait with bated breath to come home and work out their actual equivalent values with a pen and fucking paper! CVS is presumably doing this to put a nice blurry filter on their outrageous prices; Dollar General really doesn’t need to stoop to this and should knock it off.

A lot of the brand-name products offered in discount stores are odd sizes. It feels dishonest to ask customers to stand in the aisles and multiply fractional pennies in imperial sizings to figure out that yes, this discounted travel/snack size of chips (or whatever) is actually substantially more expensive than a normal bag.

It was the most expensive source for nothing. (Good! I should hope not!) It was the cheapest source for tampons. I will be returning when the next blood moon rises!

Nothing in the store was fresh, but they had more brand names than I expected. If you enjoy the process of bargain hunting, there’s certainly cheaper options that can be turned up if you’re willing to put in the work of hunting around for them.

• Music Playing: No Doubt, “Don’t Speak,” on warm and crackly local radio (PERFECTION)
• Store Vibe: Ollivander’s Wand Shop, but instead of wands it’s Easter clearance candy and Bang! brand shower and tub cleaner
• Employee Vibe: Unseen; resilient; surviving, thriving, and vibing
• Loss Prevention Encounter: No
• Items Obtained: 11/20
• Substitutions Required: 1 (no American cheese)
• Sales Offered: $0
• Total Paid: $97.65

#4 Wegmans

• Owned by: Privately owned by the Wegman family
• Number of stores: 111 (do you think the 111th store opening was hobbit-themed or nah?)

… Are you kidding me?

There have been a lot of surprises in this investigation. For me, this was the biggest. If you’d asked me to guess a ranking before I started this investigation, I’d have put Wegmans third from the bottom—not the top!

If you’ve never been to a Wegmans, let me paint you a picture. This is a luxury supermarket. Their stores are gigantic and modern. The first one I ever visited had an escalator for your shopping carts. It also has the most profoundly vast selection of any grocery store I’ve ever visited in my life. There’s no competition. It’s like a complete grocery store, with every imaginable brand, plus their own store brands, plus extensive international selections, health sections, speciality sections, AND their own excellent in-house bakeries, butcheries, liquor stores… everything!

They have foods that were; foods that are; and some foods that have not yet come to pass!

I went to Wegmans a few times a year—but only for special foods. For many years, I’ve picked up birthday lobster and Christmas morning duck from Wegmans. I still vividly remember their house fromagier recommending a precious cake of cave-aged cheese with edible wildflowers pressed into the rind for my anniversary picnic. She hooked my ass up! That cheese would’ve definitely gotten me laid, if we hadn’t eaten so much cheese.

So I’ve only gone there looking for luxurious or exotic ingredients I couldn’t find in normal stores. The bill was always reasonable, for luxuries. I literally never allowed my eye to stray past what I was there to get, for fear of ballooning my bill up by grabbing other random things I needed.

Uh. I don’t know what to say except: I was dead wrong!

Wegmans, I trusted you when I needed tapioca flour and Maine Lunch. I should’ve trusted for chicken breasts and black beans, too. They were the cheapest source for both of those staples, and tied for the least expensive American cheese. And they were the most expensive source for nothing on my list. (If you can’t handle me at my black beans, you don’t deserve me at my fresh hazelnuts, lmao.)

Looking around the internet, it seems there are a lot of people who assume Wegmans’ prices are on-par with Whole Foods, not Walmart. (#SpoilerAlert)

Why is that?

I think the reason is that we eat with our eyes first. The Wegmans brand is beautiful. Their stores are beautiful. Their employees are attentive, dedicated, and knowledgeable. And their selection is unparalleled. Many of their store brands are upgraded (organic, ethically sourced, etc) by default. I’ve been trained to think that that I can’t expect those things unless I’m rich.

Seeing that, apples-to-apples, shitty little c-stores were selling their “food” for almost as much money as luxury grocers, and discount stores were charging as much or more than mid-market grocers, really opened my eyes to how powerfully perception informs our expectations of prices.

Price Rite, that budget grocer I loathed, was full of shoppers when I went. I noted a lot of older people, people of color, parents, and immigrants. I wonder if they’re intentionally tolerating the store with the dirtiest floors, the dourest employees, and the least convenient practices because they think it’s sure to save them money. If they knew that they could go a mile down to road, spend $5.15 LESS, to get all the items they needed, with meaningful help from dedicated, personable staff members… I’m sure they’d go!

But we’ve trained poor people to assume that dignity and respect cost extra money they don’t have. Wegmans doesn’t look like it’s for them. And I understand the dread of watching the price at checkout rise past your comfort zone. I know what it’s like to fumble with SNAP cards. I know what that fear and shame feels like; I’d make safe choices to avoid them too.

Walmart wants to be cheap. Wegmans wants to be valuable. Those things are not remotely the same.

I want to note that the Wegmans I visited was also the most accessible grocery store, by pretty much every metric.

• They offered delivery and curbside pickup. Pickup orders come with no extra charge. Out of curiosity, I plugged in an order for delivery to my house, almost a 40 minute drive away They would’ve done it—at any time I scheduled—for less than $10! The fuck!
• The store aisles were wide, with lots of room to maneuver and socially distance.
• There’s a free app that lets you plug in your shopping list. It’ll tell you where each item is, how much it costs, and whether it’s SNAP eligible.
• Although I didn’t find anything with a missing label, there were still clearly labeled customer-facing price check scanners every few aisles.
• There were signs encouraging me to leave heavy items in the cart, so customers and employees won’t unnecessarily strain themselves.
• No contest for the most options for people with allergies, food intolerances, or special diets. Most stores I visited had a small selection of gluten-free foods—half an aisle at most. Wegmans had two dry goods aisles and a freezer section. 
• Their ethnic foods sections weren’t just Goya! They had a respectable selection of Indian food, Korean food, kosher food… They carry Kewpie Mayo, for chrissakes!
• THERE IS A TINY TRAIN THAT GOES CHUGGA-CHUGGA CHOO-CHOO AROUND THE CEILING.

Really, the only people who will be further victimized by this store are foodies with ADHD like me, who will wander around getting highly distracted by all the shit they wanna eat. I’m willing to take one for the team.

Because they’re a private company, it’s hard to say exactly what’s in the Secret Sauce at Wegmans. But I can draw a few conclusions, based on my research.

Something special seems to happen when a family-owned business is run by a strong, community-oriented leader with firm values. (This description also matches one of Wegmans’ competitors—the chain who’ll eventually be revealed in our #1 spot.)

Magic happens when a business is run by leaders who understand and respect the importance of every role within a supermarket, from top to bottom. Its longtime CEO, the late Bob Wegman, started out cutting meat. (I have a feeling most other VPs, CEOs, and presidents of companies on this list have posher credentials, but less valuable experiences.) It was his personal belief that “nothing was more important than getting into heaven,” and he set his policies accordingly. When sentiment like that is genuine, it’s no wonder such a place would be considered among the very best employers in America.

… That, and a smaller total number of gigantic stores with diverse inventory seems to be a good way to attract lots of customers while keeping costs down. Though that’s less stirring!

Now that I know more about Wegmans, I’m happy to spend more money there in the future. As a successful and growing company, I can only hope they don’t change. Family grocery stores are full of third-generation heirs who’d rather cheap out to see their millions turn into billions on the backs of their forefathers’ reputations. I really hope they never lose touch with the values that make their stores feel so special.

• Music Playing: King Harvest, “Dancing in the Moonlight” (who told them my weakness?!)
• Store Vibe: The Endless Cathedral of Food, Drink, and Housewares that Dwells in the Twilight Between Worlds
• Employee Vibe: Diligent, hardworking, knowledgable, and friendly
• Loss Prevention Encounter: No
• Items Obtained: 20/20
• Substitutions Required: absolutely not, are you kidding me?!
• Sales Offered: $0
• Total Paid: $95.39

#3 Walmart

• Owned by: Privately owned primarily by the Walton family, but also institutional investors like The Vanguard Group
• Number of stores: 4,600

How much do you really need me to tell you about Walmart?

They’re the biggest national chain this far up on the list. That means that for many readers, they’re the cheapest source of groceries wherever you live. This is especially true if you live in a rural area, where Walmarts and dollar store chains are often a central oasis in a fresh food desert.

I will never judge someone for choosing to shop at the most affordable place available to them. It is such a hard world right now. You’ll get no judgements from me. It’s people who have other options—either by virtue of their location or their income—who I think have a responsibility to weigh their decisions more seriously.

That said: Walmart is the only place where I picked up a bag of produce and found the bottom a little slimy. And I did not appreciate that.

For the most part, I’ve held back from critiquing store layouts. But the layout of the Walmart I visited was so bad that it bears special mention. Once inside the gigantic superstore, groceries started right near the entrance—convenient and wonderful! But tampons and baby wipes were nowhere to be found. I circled all the grocery shelves again. They had toilet paper, cleaning products, and a big selection of toys, but no tampons or wipes. Finally, I spotted a pharmacy section off in one corner. Tampons were cleverly hidden along their back wall, under a massive sign reading “beauty and cosmetics.”

I mean. Sure! Nothing makes me feel prettier than shoving a cardboard tube up my twat!

At this point, the only item left on my list was baby wipes. I circled the pharmacy section a second time, thinking I’d missed them. The man tasked with guarding the fire door saw me wandering, and to his credit, offered to help. “Aw, baby stuff,” he told me, “is allllllll the way at the other corner of the store.”

And I just want to point out how fucked up this is.

In families where there are two opposite-sex spouses and children, 80% of the grocery shopping is done by mothers. Given this, why would Walmart design a store where their average customer (a low-income mother shopping for her family’s essentials, likely with one or more children in tow) has to walk to the middle, then the far front corner, then the far back corner, then back to the middle? It’s literally not possible to design a less convenient route for your primary user.

The answer seems to be that they think it’s more important to force her to drag her kids right through the toy aisle, twice.

I hate scumbag design choices like this. I understand that every store is different, and layouts can be quirky… but this is the kind of invisible inconvenience that convinces me stores like Walmart view us not as customers to serve, but money-filled nuts that must be aggressively smashed open with whatever tools available.

Walmart was not the most expensive source for anything, but the cheapest source for ketchup and dog biscuits. So thanks for that, I guess! An obnoxious place for mothers, but a great place if you love dogs and hot dogs.

• Music Playing: none—ominous!
• Store Vibe: sure is a Walmart
• Employee Vibe: one day at a time
• Loss Prevention Encounter: Yes (the ridiculous security theatre that is receipt check on exit)
• Items Obtained: 17/20 (no fresh bread, tofu, or GF flour)
• Substitutions Required: 4 (large quantities of potatoes and frozen chicken only; no sliced American cheese or Red Baron pizza)
• Sales Offered: $0
• Total Paid: $91.75

#2 Aldi

• Owned by: Privately owned by the Albrecht family
• Number of stores: 2,500

Aldi is owned by the same people that own Trader Joe’s. Some of the praises—and all of the same criticisms—apply to both.

Aldi is the Albrecht family’s budget grocer offering, and it’s quickly become extremely popular. I totally understand why. Their prices were excellent. They were the most expensive source for nothing. They were the cheapest source for strawberries, Cheerios, and Dawn dish soap. And they tied for the cheapest chicken. And if I were willing to accept their store-brand substitutes, they would’ve had the cheapest ketchup, baby wipes, and dog biscuits.

Aldi stocks a few more major American brands compared to Trader Joe’s, which is a trend I expect to continue as their purchasing power grows. Aldi has a lot of die-hard stans in the frugal community, and I’ve generally heard good things about their food in terms of quality, though I’ve also heard whispers that negative change is afoot in this area. Your mileage may vary! Follow your nose and trust your tastebuds.

True to its format, selection is limited. Unless you eat a lot of prepared meals, you may need to stagger visits to Aldi with more traditional stores for things like fresh fruit and vegetables, spices, baking, and household goods.

Oh… and menstrual products! They don’t sell those. Please brace yourselves to receive my thoughts on this.

Every single store I visited for this investigation stocked cinnamon.

Every. Single. One.

Yes, even Walgreens and CVS had little tubes of it! Amazing! Great job, everyone!

Conversely, the nation’s most beloved affordable grocers—Aldi and Trader Joe’s—offered NO option for ANY kind of menstrual products. No pads, no tampons, no cups—nothing.

The Fresh Market had this entire wall dedicated to nine hundred varieties of bulk artisanal organic trail mixes, but couldn’t possibly spare six square inches of shelf space for a few overpriced organic cotton maxi-pads.

Friends, this is All The Way Fucked Up!™

Tofu, gluten-free flour, and tampons were the least stocked items on my list. I can accept that, sure, not everyone is regularly making dinner and cookies for their vegan friend with celiac tonight. But half the earth’s adult population menstruates. And despite my many letters to the editor, we continue to do it every single month! It is shameful that these products are still considered specialty, luxury, or nonessential. If your store sells toilet paper, it should also sell a menstrual product. They! Are! Not! Optional!

Aldi used to sell menstrual products—both major brands like Tampax and its own store line called Blossom. But a few years ago, Aldi abruptly “discontinued” these products, “with no plans to bring them back.” And they had the gall to add a little broken heart emoji.

You pieces of shit. You have a misogynist store practice. Customers are complaining about it. Don’t you dare try to be cute. This is not a passive thing that just happened—it’s a choice you made based on a priority you didn’t have.

Let me tell you what I know about Aldi, Trader Joe’s, and The Fresh Market, without having to look. I’d stake this week’s grocery budget that their executive leadership team has no women, except maybe in their acceptable traditional roles: marketing and general counsel. Let’s see if I’m right!

At Aldi USA, I’m seeing Jason, David, Brent, a second David, and a Scott. Hmm. Well, I’m sure some of these other little boxes are women!

Trader Joe’s executive team is named Dan, Jon, Mitch, a second Mitch, Ron, and Kathryn, the general counsel.

For The Fresh Market, I see four feminine names—two of them in marketing—and 25 masculine names!

Now, it’s possible these lists aren’t accurate; I reached out to all three companies to get official data. None got back to me. It’s also possible I’m mistaking someone’s gender based on their name or headshot. If I’ve done that, I sincerely apologize. I’m working with what I have.

And what I have, in your stores, is BLOOD POURING OUT OF ME, which is YOUR FAULT SPECIFICALLY.

Gender equity in the workplace isn’t simply the fair and just thing to do. It makes companies money! Lots and lots of money! It means there’s someone at the table with the life perspective to say: “Hey dummies! Let’s not abruptly discontinue all menstrual products. Women are statistically our most important customers, and if we don’t carry the essential products they need every month, that’ll siphon their dollars away from our stores! It might even piss off some no-name blogger!”

For the sake of contrast, my Wegmans carried 46 varieties of tampons, 9 varieties of period underwear, 10 different sizes and shapes of menstrual cups, dedicated menstrual cup cleaners to go with them, and so many pads and panty liners I stopped counting after one hundred. Gee whiz, it’s almost like they’re trying to meet the needs of a diverse customer base or something!

Next time I need menstrual products at an Aldi, I’ll just build a time machine and go back to when they gave a fuck!

If Trader Joe’s can sell me Retinol Night Serum, they can damn well sell me a tampon so I don’t bleed all over their floors because despite being 38, I am still shocked that my menses has the audacity to show its face in these parts every 28 days!

Excuse me while I lay awake tonight, contemplating the NINE HUNDRED trail mix flavors priced like they are LOOSE GEMSTONES deemed to be of greater importance than preserving my gusset’s intended color!

I warned you all that this project was my descent into madness. I warned you!

…What was I talking about? Oh, right—Aldi.

The Aldi I visited was even more no-frills and hands-off than limited assortment chain competitors Price Rite or Dollar General. But at least the store was clean! Everything was still in boxes on pallets, but there wasn’t the same chaotic carelessness evident at Price Rite. Empty boxes were removed promptly; they all had labels, and like was kept with like. I was in and out of the store quickly. As at Price Rite, customers are expected to bag their own groceries.

The most foreign concept to American sensibilities might be the rent-a-cart system, though I’m all for it! Pushing carts seems like a thankless task for employees, especially in the summer. I truly think the simplest test of human morality is to see who returns their cart neatly after shopping, and in this test, most of us perform no better than the apes from which we ascended. A quarter is a cheap price to pay to enforce civility.

If I seem tepid about my visit, I guess I was. Please see my complicated thoughts in the Trader Joe’s section, as well as my gigantic moral shrug in the Walmart section. People have to eat! I’m happy if they’re happy! But my genuine enthusiasm for billionaire-owned chains who refuse to stock the basics AND treat their employees like sassy dogs is rapidly growing as thin and wan as the rest of me.

• Music Playing: None. Supposedly because they’d have to pay to license said music. As someone who’s actually bought a lot of licensed music in the past, I give this a resounding “huh?!” $500 gets you enough chillhop beatz to cover the sound of thousands of old men coughing all over the avocados. We also made music before 1930—some of it was actually kinda good, if you can believe it! Mostly, I’m wondering if the innovators over at Dollar General can go over and explain radios to them? Do a lunch-and-learn? Maybe bring them a battery-powered boombox? 
• Store Vibe: Like if a car rental place had coolers (sorry, but I’m right)
• Employee Vibe: Busy, chatty and friendly with each other, but with no evident interest in the customers
• Loss Prevention Encounter: No
• Items Obtained: 17/20 (no tofu, GF flour, or tampons)
• Substitutions Required: 8 (large potato quantities only; no fresh bread or American cheese; store brands for the rest)
• Sales Offered: $0
• Total Paid: $91.75

#1 Market Basket

• Owned by: Privately owned by the DeMoulas family
• Number of stores: 95

As I lay my head on the pillow of my husband’s chest moments before falling asleep one night, I whispered “I’m scared” into the darkness.

“About the rheumatologist?” He said, referring to the next step in my ongoing quest to get to the bottom of the disability I’ve been suffering with, which like Rumpelstilzchen, has been ravaging my brain and body because no doctor has so far been able to guess its name.

“No,” I clarified. “I’m worried about Market Basket.”

Everyone thinks the store they always shop at is the best. I’m no different. I’ve visited plenty of grocery stores—but Market Basket is MY grocery store. I know that store so well I could probably find my essentials blindfolded. It’s a part of my routine. And when something is part of your routine, it slowly becomes a part of your identity. 

I was scared that my investigation would reveal I was a fool who would’ve saved money going to Aldi or Walmart all along. In short, I was worried my rigorous testing criteria would leave my identity fractured, and forever rob me of the unconscious trust I felt in going to the neighborhood grocery store I knew and loved best.

But I was determined to see the truth with my own eyes. And as it turns out, I had no reason to be scared.

Of the 17 chain grocery stores I visited, Market Basket was the cheapest overall. They were the cheapest source for the highest total number of items, including: potatoes, tofu, gluten-free flour, baby wipes, seltzer, milk, and my desired brand of frozen pizza. They were tied for the cheapest shrimp and American cheese. All of their prices hovered in the lowest quartile. And they were the most expensive source for nothing.

You might think that with such low prices, the in-store experience would be poor. But on the contrary, that was the best overall as well.

The magic started as soon as I climbed out of my car. Another shopper was finishing unloading her cart, and an employee was standing by to take it from her.

Customer: “Oh, you don’t have to do that! Thank you!”

Employee: “It’s my pleasure. Have a great day now!”

This isn’t an unusual occurrence. When I exited the store later, a different employee paused a moment to give me time to finish with my cart, then collected it so I didn’t have to run it to the cart return myself. It’s not their policy per se—it’s just a courtesy any employee will offer if they’re nearby. It happens often.

They offer fresh bread baked on site. When I walked in, there were a few loaves left—and they were warm. When I exited an hour later, I checked again. All the previous loaves were gone. There were new ones—and they were also warm. I actually asked a manager about this, and he explained that the bakery employees monitor the bread levels, and run a new batch when it starts running low. Usually this is every two hours. In all the grocery stores I visited, I only found bread so fresh it was still warm twice—and both times, it was in the same Market Basket on the same visit.

The store isn’t modern or fancy. It’s all linoleum floors and fluorescent lights, baby. A single inattentive shopper parking their cart in the middle of one aisle can hold the whole store hostage. But for such a busy, crowded store, it was extraordinarily clean and efficient. I saw one employee weaving through the crowd, scanning for new scuffs to buff out of the floors.

As these anecdotal details make clear, the employees at Market Basket really stand out for their engagement and dedication. They act like they’re personally invested in the store’s success. Everyone wears a pin that tells you how long they’ve worked at the company. It’s not unusual to see people proudly displaying a 20+ year tenure. Between them, they speak all the predominant languages in the neighborhood. They know exactly which staff member to grab for translation help, if needed. There’s a lot of staff everywhere, and they’re all always busy. I counted at least two dozen checking, bagging, restocking, and working counters.

So that’s it! Market Basket’s the cheapest grocery store! Investigation over!

The only thing that really remains is the question: “But why?”

Why are they so cheap? Why are they able to deliver an above-average mid-market store experience AND cheaper prices than even dollar stores?

I’m aware that at only 95 total stores, this is one of the smallest regional chains we covered. Many readers won’t happen to live near one. So I’d love to give you a sense of what to look for in your own community. What does it take to be an amazing grocery store?

I’m going to do my best to explain what makes Market Basket Market Basket now.

It’s the story of a poor immigrant family, the market they started, the children who inherited it, the money that poured in, the venture capital that came sniffing around, and the civil war that erupted, turning brother against brother. You’ll learn about Market Basket’s Red Wedding, where the family patriarch was betrayed and cast down, with a pair of bumbling comic relief carpet-bagging co-CEOS propped up in his place. It culminates in a peasant revolt sparked amongst the store’s workers and customers. There were protests, threats, retaliation, and strikes. And it all ended in triumph, with the restoration of the once-deposed rightful king.

I’m telling you this not to entertain, but to explain. Market Basket just barely avoided the fate of being subsumed and enshittified by the machine of multinational corporate giants. It did so only by the luckiest possible confluence of help from some owners, most customers, all employees, and just enough pro-labor elected government officials.

This is what it takes for a business to retain its own greatness.

Why Market Basket

My information for the coming section came from my own experiences and memories, as well as the synthesis of reading tons of local and national news coverage from the events as they unfolded, as well as more recent retrospectives.

In particular, coverage from The Boston Globe was critical in documenting the evolution of what became the largest non-union walk-out in American history. There’s also a documentary called Food Fight: Inside the Battle for Market Basket. It’s available for free on YouTube, and it’s EXCELLENT. It was a great source for direct quotes from employees. It goes into a lot of juicy details I’ve had to skip. So if I’ve tickled your interest, please go check it out.

The Reign of Athanasios and Efrosini Demoulas

Athanasios “Arthur” Demoulas arrived on Ellis Island in 1906. He was an orphaned Greek immigrant fleeing the violence of the Greco-Turkish war, seeking a better life in America. He and his wife Efrosini opened the first DeMoulas Market in 1917. They lived on a farm, raising their own sheep to provide their local Greek community with fresh lamb.

Under the widespread financial strain caused of the Great Depression, the Demoulas family allowed their customers to buy food on credit and distributed free bread to shoppers.

The Demoulas parents had six children: John, George, Fotene, Telemachus, Ann, and Evangelos. Fotene died in infancy, but the other five children survived to adulthood.

Three in particular—George, Ann, and Telemachus (called “Mike”)—all worked together in the store. Mike was the first, leaving school to help his parents when their charitable business practices brought them to the brink of foreclosure. Next came Ann, and after the conclusion of World War II, George returned home from the Army to join as well.

Ann got married and moved to the family farm to run the supply side of the business. Mike and George became increasingly involved in the store, eventually purchasing it together from their parents in 1954.

The Reign of Mike and George Demoulas

By all accounts, Mike and George were a good team. Mike was the firm businessman and George the softer peacekeeper. They successfully grew the flagship store into a chain of fifteen. Mike and George owned equal shares in all of their family’s stores.

Sadly, while on vacation with his family in Greece, George passed away suddenly from a heart attack in 1971. Thus ended their co-leadership.

The Reign of Mike Demoulas

After George’s death, Mike assumed sole leadership of the DeMoulas chain.

During this time, he continued to provide for his brother’s widow and four children. George’s sons Angelo (“Evan”) and Arthur S. were given jobs at DeMoulas market, but they reportedly had little interest in the work, and rarely showed up for shifts.

Eventually, at their Uncle Mike’s recommendation, all of George’s children sold their shares back to him. It’s doubtful if they were old enough to fully understand what they were doing.

This gave Evan enough money to begin an auto racing career, which he pursued until he was killed by another driver in 1991. He left behind a pregnant widow, Rafaela Evans, carrying his only daughter Vanessa Demoulas.

The First Demoulas Civil War and the Downfall of Mike Demoulas

After the children of the late George had sold most of their shares back to their Uncle Mike, dividends from those shares took off. (By 2013, the company had paid out its first billion dollars in dividends.) George’s children—now adults—came to characterize the transfer of those shares as a deception. Basically, that their uncle had tricked them into selling their portion of the company for far less than it was worth.

The families dragged each other to court, suing and countersuing each other in a knock-down, drag-out fight over equity in the growing chain now called Market Basket.

After a decade of bitter arguments, the courts sided with George’s children. Mike was ousted from the presidency by court order.

The Failed Uprising of Arthur S. Demoulas

A slim majority of shares now passed back to George’s children. With Evan now deceased, the most active among them was Arthur S., who sat on the board of directors.

He badly wanted to gain control of the company. Although on paper, Arthur S. should’ve been able to lead Market Basket at this point, his lack of experience and work ethic meant he had few allies.

In his desperation to solidify his position, Arthur S. tried to gain control of his niece’s trust—the young Vanessa, only child of the late Evan. This infuriated Evan’s window Rafaela, Vanessa’s mother, and out of spite, she threw her votes behind Arthur S.’s chief rival.

That rival, to everyone’s eternal confusion and consternation, was also named Arthur Demoulas.

Middle initials matter wayyy too much in this story.

The Rise of Arthur T. Demoulas

If the Demoulas family can be likened to the Targaryens, it’s the struggle between Arthur S. and his blood cousin Arthur T. that could best be called The Dance of the Dragons.

Arthur T. Demoulas was Mike’s only son. He’d joined Market Basket straight out of high school and worked his way up to the position of President and CEO by 2008.

Arthur S. may have been the leader on paper, but Arthur T. held more real power as the one who was actually loved by Market Basket’s other leaders and employees.

They respected him for working real roles within the company and rising through its ranks honestly. By this time, Market Basket was already known for its dedicated, highly tenured employees—and Arthur T. was known for his ability to connect with each one of them. He remembered their names, birthdays, and milestones. He attended their weddings and funerals. If one of his employees needed help, he offered it freely. He was said to have regularly told his employees and fellow board members: “We’re in the people business first, the grocery business second.” The man was even likened to George Bailey, protagonist of It’s a Wonderful Life, for his willingness to put people over profit.

This popularity among employees only embittered his relationship with his unpopular cousin, Arthur S.

The Demoulas Family Red Wedding and the Downfall of Arthur T. Demoulas

Weary of conflict, Arthur S. gave more and more consideration to cashing out of the company altogether. He used what power he had to drain the company coffers and derail expansion plans.

For many years, Rafaela Evans held out against Arthur S.’s plans to sell out.

… Until a day came that she switched sides again.

Finally ready to cash in her own shares, she set aside her storied beef with Arthur S. and gave him the support he needed to bring on new board members. The new board kicked the beloved Arthur T. and his allies out on their asses.

He was replaced as CEO with James Gooch (a former RadioShack executive, lmao) and Felicia Thornton (of the Albertsons grocery chain). Please do not ask me why they went with the idea of dividing leadership between two fucking people, because I couldn’t begin to get it!

How did the fiercely loyal employees of Market Basket react to their home-grown hero being replaced by two carpetbagging randos who’d probably never even set foot in one of their stores?

Not well.

The Second Demoulas Civil War

A commanding majority of Market Basket employees, from the ousted board members down to the humblest warehouse workers, instantly revolted.

They issued the world’s shortest list of demands: “We will not work for anyone but [Arthur T. Demoulas.]”

The new co-CEOs, deeply misreading their situation, attempted to sternly scold their brand new underlings back in line. They fired several of Arthur T.’s most loyal store managers.

This was a mistake.

The employees responded, literally: “This is our fucking company.” And instituted the largest non-union walk-out in American history. Implausibly, giraffes became the symbol of the Market Basket revolution. Because the employees chose to “to stick their necks out” for their chosen leader.

The walk-out was beautifully planned to protect the greatest number of the chain’s most vulnerable employees. Tenured full-time support staff walked out, leaving stores technically open, so that hourly workers could continue being paid. But the shelves were soon completely empty.

The customers join the revolt

Instead of being annoyed by the disruption at their beloved stores, customers understood what was at stake—and they opted to join the fight.

In solidarity with workers, customers shopped elsewhere. They brought their reciepts from those other grocery stores, and taped them on the windows of the technically open (but completely barren) Market Basket stores to demonstrate their commitment to holding the line.

Customers even organized and held their own concurrent rallies. I remember driving past the picket lines, honking my horn in support. It had an almost carnival-like atmosphere. It was truly incredible.

No one—not Arthur S., nor the co-CEOs, nor the media—ever imagined this kind of solidarity was possible.

“The idea of the customers boycotting was not our idea. I wish it were, because it was brilliant! But that was as organic as anything in this. The customers asked us what to do, and we said ‘support us.’ And they said, ‘Y’know what? We know what to do! We’re not gonna shop there anymore.”

The government steps in

The protests grew to incorporate disruptive-yet-effective tactics like blocking traffic and intimidating scabs. The workers who walked out had kids and bills and mortgages just like everybody else—but they put everything on the line to keep the walk-out going. Workers organized mutual aid for the most vulnerable among them.

Completely baffled, Gooch and Thornton finally threatened to fire the insubordinate workers. This would’ve put a massive strain on the unemployment budgets of several New England states, so governors Deval Patrick and Maggie Hassan stepped in to pressure the recalcitrant Arthur S. faction to end the riots by selling his shares back to Arthur T.

A little over a year after the fateful change in allegiance, they reached a deal. Arthur T. bought the remaining shares of the company from Arthur S. and his sisters for 1.5 billion borrowed dollars.

After the war, ten years of peace

Market Basket employees and the public welcomed Arthur T. back with open arms. And in the ten years since, the company has thrived. They’ve expanded to many new locations, and Consumer Reports ranks them as the second-best grocery store in America, second only to Wegmans.

Recently, on the ten year anniversary of the protests, Arthur T. Demoulas surprised employees with a message that read in part:

“Here at Market Basket, everyone is special. You have demonstrated that everyone here has a purpose. You have demonstrated that everyone has meaning. And no one person is better or more important than another. And no one person holds the position of privilege. Whether it’s a full timer, or a part timer, whether it’s a sacker or a cashier, or a grocery clerk, or a truck driver, or a warehouse selector, a store manager, a supervisor, a customer, a vendor or a CEO, we are all equal. We are all equal and by working together and only together do we succeed.”

With gratitude for all you do, please find a bonus check which is earned by you every single day. 

Wishing you and your family continued good health and continued success.

Sincerely, Arthur T. Demoulas.

… So that’s how it’s going for them.

Why they fought

I think it’s a mistake to assume that Market Basket employees were fighting for Arthur T. Demoulas, specifically. Yes, the man is clearly a charismatic and powerful leader. But he was an even more powerful symbol of something much stronger and bigger than any one man.

I said in my Market Basket review that employees seem personally invested in the stores where they work. That’s because they literally are! Market Basket employees that work more than 1,000 hours per year get a portion of the profits from the company. That threshold is low enough to be inclusive of most part-time employees, an often overlooked constituency within grocery stores.

There are other reasons that make it a great place to work. Employees get benefits like healthcare and paid sick leave. The stores clearly have a special company culture overall.

When Arthur S. cast Arthur T. out, the message to the employees was clear: “The golden age is over. I’m getting rid of the things that make you special and give your hard work meaning. Hold on to your butts and get ready to be enshittified.”

That is why employees fought. They refused to cede their value and their dignity to some schmuck who wanted to show up, make his buck off their sweat, and fuck off again. 

The combination of the astounding solidarity of the workers and the unexpectedly positive response from the public forced the hands of local government to act too. And it took all three of these groups working in concert to save these stores. It came steps away from being subsumed (Ahold Delhaize wanted to feed it to its endlessly hungry shareholders) or going extinct.

So that’s what it takes.

For a business to become great, it must be founded by hardworking people with vision and values.

To retain its own greatness, it needs continuous leadership that shares that vision so strongly they can resist the temptation of bottomless personal wealth.

Finally, when outside forces inevitably threaten it, employees, customers, and their governments must be willing to organize and fight to preserve it.

And that’s why places like Market Basket are as rare as roses blooming in winter.

• Music Playing: Toto, “Hold the Line” (shout-out to Bob Hoyt and his excellent Market Basket Spotify playlist, which I listened to on repeat while writing this behemoth)
• Store Vibe: 「 tadaima 」
• Employee Vibe: Invested
• Loss Prevention Encounter: No
• Items Obtained: 20/20
• Substitutions Required: none
• Sales Offered: $2.67
• Total Paid: $81.60

Final thoughts on the investigation

As I said in my introduction, my dearest wish with this project is to help a few people save $20 every month. And I think I underestimated myself. The best case scenario is that I converted a former Whole Foods shopper into a Market Basket shopper, which would save them over $300 a month, if this list captured an average week’s shopping.

So I guess I’ll sleep well tonight!

Each of the 17 stores I visited required several hours of research, planning, driving, documenting, writing, and analysis. In total, this investigation represents easily over 100 hours of my time—maybe closer to 200. Oops!

I’m able to pursue absolutely unhinged endeavors like these for one reason only: the generous support from our Patreon donors.

If I helped you save money, I’d really appreciate it if you kicked just a few of those dollars our way. We’re committed to offering information like this, for free, to the people who need it most. We will never hide this kind of information behind a paywall.

But… to be totally honest, our Patreon donations have been slipping. It’s okay—we don’t take it personally at all. We know it’s a reflection of people’s fears about the hard times ahead. It’d be awesome if my tremendous efforts on this one convinced a few people who are more secure to step up. Even donations as small as $1 are meaningful to us. Remember, you can always pull back if your financial situation changes!

And if you can’t afford to support us, just share this with a couple of your friends. We’re still fairly new as a YouTube channel, and we appreciate the help.

Happy shopping, and Bitches out!