The Economist magazine has a Big Mac Index to measure the price of the same good around the world. I’ve got the Mixed Pickle Index.
In the microcosm of Nicosia’s supermarkets, that index shows wild swings depending on upmarket stores where you may or may not want to be seen, to the dirt cheap discount outlets where the well-heeled dare not venture.
In the interests of penny pinching, the Scot in me who is good with money, and an insatiable love affair with mixed pickle, I faithfully join my fellow plebs once a month for the offers on at discount outlets which have sprouted up over the years.
At the Elomas outlet in Latsia, I pick up Rajah mixed pickle, the next best thing to the stuff served at the workmen’s shacks in India, for 2.14 euros, or, if we want to speak in proper money terms, CYP1.25.
At a popular supermarket in Nicosia, the same brand and product goes for 4.03 euros.
Granted, mixed pickle is not the staple in your average Cypriot household and this is my own benchmark, not to be taken as endemic in Nicosia’s supermarkets. Most items are broadly level, give or take a few cents. And in most cases the discount outlets do not have the same array of items, so a trip to the supermarket is necessary anyway.
However with food prices lurching over the past eighteen months more and more people are heading to the discount stores, where a few of the items which do make a dent on the weekly or monthly shopping bill are considerably cheaper.
At the unlikely venue of the Poplife electronics outlet in an old factory on the outskirts of Latsia, a case of 24 imported soft drinks cost 7.35 euros (CYP 4.27). At one of the cheapest supermarkets in Nicosia, the same locally produced costs 3.84 euros for eight. Times that by three, a box of 24 would cost 11.52 euros.
A 200 gram jar of instant coffee costs 2.85 euros, compared to 4.56 euros at the cheapest supermarket. I picked up the last one.
One would ask who would head off into the sticks to an outlet selling just beer, juices, soft drinks, coffee, soaps, shampoos and dodgy sanitary towels for a fraction of the price.
Plenty, judging by the number of people wheeling out trolley loads of the stuff one recent Saturday morning.
I’ve been juggling the discount outlets with supermarkets for years, keeping spending at roughly 50 pounds (just over 85 euros) per week. From acqaintances, I’m aware that it is low. Even lower if one considers that I never get takeaways, very rarely eat out and when I do find fault with everything, and stubbornly think that the best restaurant is my kitchen.
It is difficult to cut corners on fruit and veg, although most street market vendors offer their products at a discount late in the day. Most of the stuff is mush at that point. If you are lucky you can pick up some of the more hardy vegetables, like runner beans, which freeze well.
I do cheat though. We rarely eat meat, and catch all our fish. I’ve now got a vegetable patch in the garden struggling in the present drought, and have a barter system going for a regular supply of potatoes. It must sound primitive according to the lifestyles of many Cypriots.
However I have no problem picking up the cheap rice and pulses, or stockpiling on the special offers. Having been literally born into the trade, so to speak, I firmly believe there is no difference between the loose stuff, particularly when it comes to pulses and grains, with the expensive packaged versions of food.
The source is the same, it all depends on how it’s cooked. Cheese, probably my single biggest food expense for a family of four, is always bought unpackaged, it’s about 10-20 per cent cheaper than the packaged versions.
I would draw the line at beer. Some of the cheaper imported stuff we have tried has been compared to pee, so I stick to the local brands.
The key to spending is planning. Going to the discount outlets too regularly – I’ve already devoured my jar of mixed pickle – defeats the purpose. I really should have bought four jars, because I have no inclination of shelling out 4.03 euros at the place down the road, or spending the petrol just for one jar. So I’ll just have to suffer.
The obsession with discount outlets does come with a health warning. The most obvious is that one can go overboard, and that mixed pickle is addictive.
The more insidious one is consumers should bear in mind that there could be dumping tactics at work – producers selling below cost to gain a foothold in a market – to explain large margins of difference in prices.
I am uncomfortably aware that spending my money on cheap imports is depriving my local economy of income. Unchecked, it manifests itself as gaping trade deficits, potential loss of income for the local producers, possibly spiralling unemployment and loss of tax earnings for the state. And despite what anyone thinks, the state is all of us taxpayers, collectively. When that happens governments usually whip out the begging bowl for more taxes to plug deficits.
It’s a long shot worth bearing in mind. But with national CPI food prices running at 6.4 percent year on year in May, and my electricity bill up 7.3 percent, it’s a risk I’m prepared to take.
