At Apral Jack's home in Lexington, Massachusetts, dinner is now dictated by whatever happens to be on sale. Jack, 50, checks a mobile app for promotions at her local supermarket before heading out. Once inside the store, she combs through the weekly circular for additional coupons. If the prices on the shelf seem excessive, she moves on to another retailer.

"The apples went up here, the ones I eat, so now I'm not going to get them here," Jack said as she pushed a cart into a Stop & Shop near her home.

Couponing, comparison shopping, and forgoing favorite foods have become routine for Jack and millions of other Americans navigating the steepest rise in grocery prices in five decades. The cost of food consumed at home has climbed 33% since the start of 2019, according to government data. That surge reflects the compounding effects of pandemic-era supply chain disruptions, labor shortages, and elevated costs for fuel, feed, and packaging that rippled through every layer of the food system. With a conflict in the Middle East adding further upward pressure on prices, grocery affordability has emerged as a defining issue in the fall midterm elections.

Residents of four metropolitan areas where food inflation has outpaced the national average described how persistent price increases are reshaping their shopping habits. They spoke of pursuing discounts, switching to store brands, and relying on food banks. Some are purchasing less meat and skipping nonessential items such as cookies. Others are simply buying less food overall.

Beef has come to symbolize runaway grocery costs for many consumers. The price of a pound of ground beef reached $6.82 in June — 79% higher than at the beginning of 2019, according to Bureau of Labor Statistics data. The increase coincided with the U.S. cattle herd shrinking to its smallest size in roughly seven decades, as prolonged drought in major ranching states and higher feed costs forced producers to cull herds, tightening supply even as demand held firm.

Ada Torres, 60, who lives in Cleveland, Texas, roughly 45 miles northeast of Houston, is among those who have stopped buying it. She handles the grocery shopping and cooking for the household she shares with her daughter and three grandchildren.

"Prices are sky-high. One hundred dollars' worth of groceries these days is nothing," Torres said.

Chicken and cold cuts now serve as the family's primary sources of animal protein, as fresh meat has become a luxury. Her grandchildren, ages 12, 15, and 16, miss dishes they once enjoyed regularly — lasagna made with ground beef, beef fajitas, and steak served with plantain chips.

Torres's daughter is the family's principal breadwinner. Her job with a mobile car-washing service slows during the rainy season, and the family can only afford one full meal a day, Torres said.

Apral Jack, a care provider and part-time Amazon worker, now has fewer mouths to feed since her three daughters reached adulthood. Still, she spends far more cautiously than in the past. Rather than shopping at Whole Foods, she builds her weekly menu around discounts and digital coupons.

"Typically, I'll try to pick the meals based on that. So like chicken fajitas: there was a three-day sale on chicken," Jack said.

Nabisco Ginger Snaps and Nilla Wafers have disappeared from her shopping list. She refuses to swap in store-brand alternatives — to her, the taste simply does not compare.

San Francisco carries a reputation as a culinary destination, but food occupies 33-year-old Jack Chang's mind for very different reasons. The self-employed barber supports three young children and a partner who is currently unemployed.

"Since I have five mouths I have to feed, basically — and then sometimes my mom, too — it's a lot on me financially," Chang said.

His family does not indulge in boba milk teas or artisanal ice cream. Instead, they visit a Japanese entertainment center that offers $1 ice cream cones. Milk is the sole organic product they purchase.

"I look at my credit card every month and I'm like, 'Wow, how am I going to pay this?' So I'm a little behind on bills, honestly," Chang said.

When their four-year-old daughter's preschool has surplus meat or bread, Chang's partner, Tina Chhous, offers to take it home. Chhous also receives monthly food assistance through the federal Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program, known as SNAP.

"Without that, I don't know what I would do," Chang said.

Chang's 77-year-old mother, Lien, also receives SNAP benefits and visits two food banks each week, sharing the canned goods, eggs, and produce she collects with the rest of the household. Food banks across the country have reported sustained demand well above pre-pandemic levels, even as broader inflation metrics have cooled from their peaks.

In Hawaii, elevated grocery costs are a fact of life. The state imports nearly all of its food via cargo ships traveling thousands of miles, leaving prices exposed to oil market spikes. This year, locally produced items grew costlier as well. The expense of transporting goods between the Hawaiian Islands surged as fuel prices rose in connection with the Iran conflict.

Amanda Tabadero, 28, a pastry chef on the island of Oahu, recalls purchasing Maui-grown strawberries and blueberries for $7.99 per pound in 2024. With the price now at $11, she opts instead for berries from California or Mexico, purchased at Costco for $5 when she bakes.

Tabadero is also skeptical she will buy lychee again anytime soon. Kaimana lychee, the variety cultivated in Hawaii, comes primarily from the Big Island. A recent purchase of an iced coffee and a bag of fruit in Honolulu's Chinatown set her back $30.

"It makes me sad," Tabadero said. "I want to use local stuff."

---

This report is a collaboration between The Associated Press and The Lexington Observer in Massachusetts, La Esquina in Texas, and Honolulu Civil Beat in Hawaii. AP Video Journalist Terry Chea contributed from San Francisco.

Source: Fortune.com