I joined a food warehouse in December, and I'm still trying to figure out whether or not it's worth it.
I was lured in by an ad offering $10 off my first purchase if I bought a membership. By the time I rolled my cart through the checkout counter, I had spent $236 — all to save that $10.
As I was perusing the aisles, I overheard a woman cautioning her elderly mother, "Now, everything adds up quickly, so watch what you put in the cart."
Good advice.
The low prices are tempting, but everything comes in such mass quantities that it's easy to buy more than you really need. And the checkout line takes so long that you feel you ought to buy more to make it worth your time. When you get it all home, you're tempted to eat more so it doesn't go to waste.
So, I think it takes awhile to learn what items are worthwhile for your own family's size and preferences and what things aren't.
Some of the reasons I like warehouse shopping:
On nearly every aisle, someone is handing out samples to taste-test. It's crucial to try an unfamiliar soup before you buy a case of it and THEN realize you don't like it.
The big bags of refrigerated ready-cooked bacon. One of my sons hates breakfast. Bacon is one of the few things he'll eat in the morning, but I don't like taking the time — the mess — to fry a package at a time. Now, I just place a few slices on a paper-towel covered plate and zap them in the microwave for a minute.
The cases of 100 percent juices. I usually take a can of V-8 with me on my way to work, and my kids can take the fruit juices with them to school.
The gigantic quantities of things such as fresh peach salsa are great for hosting parties.
Some of the disadvantages:
For our family of five, it's easy to overbuy. I loaded my cart with a case of 18 Yoplait yogurts because it was such a good deal. When I got them home, I wondered what I'd been thinking — they took up a full shelf of refrigerator space and only three of us eat yogurt. We would have to eat one a day in order to polish them off within a week.
My husband and I like the Lite I Can't Believe It's Not Butter, but it only comes in gigantic vats. It would take several months to eat that much . . . unless we started smearing more on our toast and throwing an extra spoonful on our baked potatoes. I likewise passed up the 24-pack tortillas, which would have grown moldy before we could eat them all.
You're limited on flavors and varieties. For instance, an eight-pack of Progresso soup contains four cans of chicken soup and four cans of beef. If you don't like the chicken variety, you're stuck with it in order to get the beef.
The Lean Cuisines are cheaper than at the supermarket, but you have to buy a pack with four different dinners. Some I wanted; some I didn't. On the way home, I stopped at my neighborhood supermarket to pick up all the "little" stuff we couldn't get at the warehouse. I found that the Lean Cuisines were on sale for half price — about 50 cents less than what I'd paid for them at the warehouse. And there was a bigger selection.
For my family — and I suspect many others — a warehouse club can supplement our food shopping, but it can't fully replace the neighborhood supermarket.
E-mail: vphillips@desnews.com