How do you save money on groceries?

Over the last year, grocery prices have increased by 1.1%. But that’s on top of a 3.6% increase in the previous year and a whopping 13.1% the year before that, according to reporting from NPR’s Scott Horsley.
 
Mayonnaise prices, for example, have surged 43% over the past three years, according to global research firm NIQ, also known as NielsenIQ.

“What consumers are reacting [to] and feeling is the cumulative effect of inflation,” said food economist David Ortega at Michigan State University.

Life Kit spoke to Beth Moncel, founder of the cooking blog Budget Bytes, for tips on how to spend less money at the supermarket.

1. Look up coupons and sale flyers

Download the free application Flipp, which aggregates sale flyers from the stores in your area. “That can inform your decision of where to shop” — and which recipes to cook for the week, says Moncel.

2. Do online research

Compare the prices of different brands before you go shopping, Moncel suggests. “Just type each ingredient into the search bar on your grocery store’s website,” she says. “It will show you what they have available at that store, and you can price compare” at home instead of the overstimulating environment of the grocery store.

3. Don’t assume bulk deals are better

Is it always cheaper to buy in bulk? “Not all the time,” says Moncel. “Sometimes different packaging on the same grocery store shelf will have drastically different prices.”

A tip from our friends at Planet Money, who did an episode on shrinkflation: pay attention to unit prices. For example, if you are trying to decide whether to buy that “family size” box of Cocoa Puffs, the “giant size” box or just a regular box, look at the price per ounce. If the regular box has a lower price per ounce than the bulk pack, it’s a better deal.

4. Swap out pricey ingredients

Meats and cheeses will often cost more than vegetables or grains, says Moncel. But cutting back doesn’t mean going without. For instance, if a chili recipe calls for a pound of ground beef, she says you could reduce the beef by half and then bulk up the recipe with less expensive ingredients like beans, lentils, or rice. That way, you’ll still get the flavor of the beef without the cost.

5. Load up on inexpensive and filling produce

Moncel adds bulk to her meal with cheaper produce. That includes potatoes, onions, carrots and broccoli, she says. She loves cooking with cabbage because “there are a lot of different ways you can prepare it. It’s versatile and it goes with many flavors.”

6. Stick to your grocery list

“Know what you’re going to cook, then write down the ingredients for those recipes,” says Moncel. A grocery list can help you avoid buying nonessential items and keep you focused at the store.

7. Double-check your pantry

A lot of people buy ingredients they already have at home, adding to the grocery bill. So before you head to the supermarket, “take your shopping list into the kitchen and double-check whether you have those items. You might not realize you already have some of those things on hand,” says Moncel.

8. Use up all the groceries you buy

For leftovers, rely on the freezer, says Moncel. “A lot more foods are freezable than people realize. I often freeze leftover cheese. Leftover bread products also freeze well.”

If you can’t freeze what you have left over, look up additional recipes with those ingredients as keywords. For example, search for “recipes with celery” online if you have leftover celery.

9. Think outside the big-box grocery store

You may be able to find lower prices, says Moncel. Organic eggs, for example, are sometimes cheaper at farmer’s markets. And meats and produce are often cheaper at smaller international stores.

So shop around. “Once you get to know the stock and the average prices at each of these stores, decide which one is the best to shop at this week,” she says. “Or maybe get the bulk of your ingredients at one store then stop at another on the way home for the last couple of items.” It may be more time consuming, but it can save you money.

We want to hear from you: How do you save money on groceries?

Email lifekit@npr.org with the subject line “grocery tip” with your advice and your full name, and we may feature your response on NPR.

The audio portion of this episode was hosted by Marielle Segarra, produced by Sylvie Douglis and edited by Meghan Keane. The digital story was written by Malaka Gharib and edited by Clare Marie Schneider. The visual editor is Beck Harlan.

We’d love to hear from you. email us at LifeKit@npr.org. Listen to Life Kit on Apple Podcasts and Spotify, or sign up for our newsletter.

His Bumble bio and photos were appealing. He traveled frequently and loved to dance. Over the phone, he came across as dorky to me. But when he suggested that we go salsa dancing for our first date, I decided dorky was doable. I love dancing too. There was a lesson at 9 p.m. followed by live music from a band.

Despite my challenges with dating in L.A., I responded enthusiastically: “Sounds nice! I’m looking forward to it.”

“Great,” he said. “Let’s meet at 8:30. We can have a drink and then you can join the lesson.”

He emphasized the word “you.” With a playfulness in my voice, I countered: “Well, we will both do the lesson.”

The nerd suddenly morphed into a snob. “I’m an expert salsa dancer. I don’t need the lesson.”

I remained bubbly. “But this is a date. We will do the lesson together since it’s fun. Plus, there are never enough men. You’ll have to join.”

His attitude surfaced again. “As I said, I’m an expert salsa dancer. I don’t need the lesson. That’s for you as a novice.”

Firmly I said, “You are doing the lesson with me. See you Friday.”

I had been hesitant and fearful when I jumped into the online dating world a year-and-a-half after my longtime partner’s suicide. I had wanted to take it slowly. I wasn’t at all ready to find Mr. Right and was intimidated by the prospect of even finding Mr. Right Now. I was also full of dating questions, like “How do I talk about my most recent relationship?” or “Is it better to meet for coffee or dinner?”

In putting myself out there since my boyfriend’s death, I’ve found mind-boggling material that I’ve shared with my friends who are eager to support my dating adventures. Sometimes they’ve even picked up dating insights based on my bizarre encounters, which have turned out to be plentiful.

After all, there was the guy who asked on our first outing if I was “taken care of down there,” waving his hands toward my nether region. There was the bed-breaker. There was the guy who barked orders at hotel staff. (He insisted we eat in a conference room that was reserved for a corporate luncheon.)

My hope was that things might go better with Mr. Salsa.

At 8:30 p.m. on date night, I walked into the Warehouse Restaurant bar in Marina del Rey. It was empty except for my date.

When his beer arrived, he opened his mouth widely to brutishly remove his aligners. I watched as he stuck both fists in his face to remove the saliva-drenched hardware, which he then placed in a little blue box.

He wiped his hands on his jeans, smiled broadly and pointed to his teeth. “I wear Invisalign on the top and bottom.”

An entire conversation about aligners ensued as another dialogue was happening in my head. I thought to myself, Seriously, Mr. Salsa? Did you really just remove your hardware within five minutes of meeting me? Why are you taking them out at the bar? Why not in the car before you got here? Why do you have to take them out at all? You’re just drinking a beer! Why are we engaging in a long conversation about how to lessen the cost by getting three sets made at once?

I wanted to go home but would feel bad about bailing. I am always too nice.

The salsa lesson was about to start, and sure enough, my date refused to join. I happily participated and was relieved I didn’t have to interact with him. Eventually the teacher dragged him onto the dance floor. As I had predicted, the women-to-men ratio was not close to being even.

After the lesson, I danced with Mr. Salsa. I’ll admit it: He was a good partner and a fantastic lead. But he was impossible to tolerate. He uttered, “You aren’t too terrible. I can probably work with this.”

He led me back to the bar. Just as I was about to thank him and wish him a nice rest of the evening, he looked me up and down, pointed toward the dance floor and bluntly said: “I’m going back out there. But you’re pretty. I’m sure someone will ask you to dance.”

I watched in bewilderment as he walked onto the floor to introduce himself to a beautiful brunette in a red dress.

That was my cue to head for the door. As I turned to go, a new dance partner grabbed my elbow. His shirt was unbuttoned to his belly button. Gold chains adorned his chest. In my heels at 5-foot-3, I towered over him.

After our quick dance, I bumped into the original Mr. Salsa. Ever so politely, I tried the gentle letdown. “This was fun, but I better head home.”

He said, “Amazing night. I’ll give you a ride.”

This time I was more forceful. “Oh. No. Really, you stay. Enjoy yourself. But thank you.”

He texted the next morning about a second date, but I held firm. There would be no second date.

Mr. Salsa was added to my list of bad dates.

As for me, I had assumed my baggage would be too heavy to bring on dates after all the turmoil with my boyfriend, his mental illness and eventual suicide and my subsequent grief, trauma and devastation. For so long, there have been questions surrounding my boyfriend’s death. I will never have all the answers, and I’m OK with that. But in terms of the dating scene, I’ve realized that despite everything I’ve been through, I’m in a far better state than most of the potential suitors I keep meeting in L.A.

Because on the other side of my years-long, to-hell-and-back healing process, which is best described as daunting, challenging and uncomfortable, has been recovery and growth. I also have continued to trust that despite my often disastrous and discouraging dating stories, an excellent partner awaits.

In the words of Mr. Salsa, I’m going back out there.

The author is an L.A. native and nonprofit executive. She is working to publish her memoir about life and lessons after suicide, including tales from the L.A. dating scene. She’s on Instagram: @nicole_lise

L.A. Affairs chronicles the search for romantic love in all its glorious expressions in the L.A. area, and we want to hear your true story. We pay $400 for a published essay. Email LAAffairs@latimes.com. You can find submission guidelines here. You can find past columns here.