Costco is amazing, but there's some things that even the most loyal shoppers will never buy!
I’ll be real with you—Costco’s those mammoth aisles of bulk goodies, they lure folks in like moths to a porch light. The prices look bonkers good—giant sacks of snacks, hunks of meat you could bench-press, you name it. But, honestly? Sometimes your “money-saving” haul just turns into a big ol’ regret-fest. Whether it’s stuff going bad, weird quality issues, or you just wind up with, like, five pounds of sadness in your freezer, there are definitely some Costco foods that just aren’t it. Here’s the top stuff people wish they’d left behind.
Look, I get it. Picking up a monster bag of frozen veggies at Costco feels smart, right? A year’s supply of green beans in one sack. But man, those bags are so big you could use ‘em for deadlifts. Unless you’re hosting dinner for a little league team every week, they’ll probably just become freezer fossils by the time you’re halfway done. Spoiler: No one likes reaching into the icy abyss to pull out half-burnt, flavorless peas two months later. Restaurants? Sure. Regular folks? Kinda pointless. Honestly, unless you’re fueling a veggie-loving army, it’s better to just snag small bags elsewhere so you don’t end up with a science experiment in the freezer.
Spices—oh, the lies we tell ourselves. “This giganto jar of cinnamon? I’ll bake SO MUCH,” you think. Fast-forward, and it’s been chilling in the back of your cabinet next to canned pumpkin from 2018. Truth is, spices lose their punch after a while, especially when you buy them by the pound. Unless you’re basically running a restaurant, you’ll be flavoring your food with sawdust before you finish that jug of paprika. Just hit up a local store, buy the small ones. Your taste buds (and that cluttered spice drawer) will thank you.
Who hasn’t thought, “Yeah, I can DESTROY this tub of strawberries in a week” after seeing the price at Costco? Hah—good luck. Unless you’re a family of, like, seven, there’s just no way you’ll eat ten pounds of apples or all those grapes before they go squishy and sad. And honestly, is there anything more tragic than tossing out a pound of blackened bananas you never got around to? Nah. Stick to whatever you can reasonably finish, or just buy less at another store. Nobody needs a produce guilt-trip.
Big bottles, big dreams, right? But here’s the sad reality—olive oil just doesn’t stay fresh that long, so if you’re not pouring it onto everything you eat, that glorious 2-liter jug turns into a musty regret bomb. It needs to be stored right too, or it’ll get super gross way before you’re even halfway through. If you love cooking, great, but even for someone who cooks a lot? Those bottles are overkill. Do yourself a favor: buy smaller bottles, use it while it’s still got that delicious, peppery bite. Save the giant stuff for an Italian grandma’s kitchen.
I get it—sometimes you just don’t wanna cook. Life’s busy, we’re all overworked, so those pre-packaged Costco meals look like they’re answering a prayer. But, honestly? The hype rarely holds up. Sure, the numbers on the price tag look pretty sweet, but you rip into that frozen “Tuscan chicken” and suddenly regret your entire life. Some of this stuff tastes like it’s been waiting on a shelf since the last recession, and don’t even get me started on the sodium content. One bite and you need to chug three glasses of water.
Here’s a suggestion, if you actually gave up hope on cooking—try checking the fresh meal kits at your regular grocery store first. Or get wild: baton down, make some freezer meals yourself, toss ingredients you actually like. Yeah, bulk-buying seems smart till you’re locked into eating the same bland, preservative-packed lasagna for a month straight. Sudden realization: you are not Garfield, and this is not fun.
Let’s be real, Costco’s got their rotisserie chicken game on point. Fat, juicy, dirt cheap—it’s the MVP of the prepared foods section. But here’s the other side: if you’re not about to eat that chicken ASAP, just walk away. Everyone thinks, “I’ll get a couple, have chicken for days!” Then, the leftover bird turns to sad, flavorless rubber hiding in the back of your fridge.
Unless your house is hosting a sports team for dinner, there’s just not enough mouths to make a Costco chicken disappear quick enough. Grab one, maybe shred it up for a couple of different meals, but don’t go treating your fridge like a rotisserie chicken retirement home. ‘Cause day three? The excitement’s gone, and you’re just pretending you don’t see the container every time you open the door.
Every time I walk by the cereal aisle at Costco, I think, “Damn, that’s a lifetime supply of Frosted Flakes.” Feels like a bargain until the crunch is gone and you’re stuck with a mountain of stale, sad breakfast. Unless you’ve got six ravenous teenagers turning breakfast into a competitive sport, these boxes are just too much.
Yeah, price per ounce is solid, but who cares when it’s dust by the time you finish? Been there, regretted that. Go stick to regular grocery store sizes so your Lucky Charms won’t taste like cardboard by week two—and you won’t be throwing away half a box when you finally admit defeat.