The Price of Good Taste

But for many food snobs, trading down for everything is unacceptable. Any food snob worth his sal de mer can tick off a few products which he'd rather do without than switch to a cheaper alternative. Swapping the suddenly insanely expensive Italian buffalo mozzarella ($9.99 for seven ounces) for the American stuff ($8.99 a pound) is like swapping front row seats at the New York City Ballet for general admission for the community production of the Nutcracker. The reduction in quality is so significant that it renders the formerly sublime experience one not worth having at all. Every food snob has a few items for which he will pay any price, bear any burden. For me, it's cans of Callipo tuna from Italy (now a shocking $8.99 for two).

Some relief is available. I've noticed, for example, that our local paper now comes with $5-off coupons from 'Balduccis. In all my years as a practicing food snob, I've never seen anybody whip out a coupon at a pricey food emporium. Why? It could be because in the chi-chi neighborhoods in which such stores predominate, coupon-clipping is déclassé. It could also be that bringing in a $5 off coupon takes the fun out of it. When you journey to a food snob haven-be it the local farmer's market, a wine store, or a Whole Foods-you've already decided that you're going to pay far more for foodstuffs than you would at the Stop'n'Shop across the street.

Once you start paying close attention, it's very hard to justify, in any economic climate, the prices of many food snob essentials: $14.99 for a pound of wild ramps, $43 for a liter of Italian olive oil, etc. And since most food snobs are also good liberals, who savor their expensive bounty while lingering over the Sunday Times, the contradiction can be sickening. We're spending obscene amounts on food we don't need at a time when so many others are genuinely struggling to pay for enough basic sustenance to get them through the day.

© 2008