Small Bites: The high-value food theory of cooking

Consider the value of a little food hack, even in the wake of erratic tariff policies.

This is our newsletter-first column, Microtones. It runs on the site on Fridays, but you can get it in your inbox on Thursdays by signing up for our email newsletter.

“Small Bites” is about exploring the broader world of food and drink in Madison through approachable and specific experiences.

When our dog, Gordie, was last sick, the vet suggested we give him medication via one of his favorite treats. “What are some of the foods that he considers high-value?” she asked my partner and me. I hadn’t really thought of that phrase before. High-value foods aren’t necessarily my dog’s favorite foods. Sure, he loves his kibble and gets a really dumb smile when we feed him apples, but the smell of a roasting chicken in the oven will make him run laps around the living room. Thank god he’s small. 

The point of identifying high-value foods is that they’re a great motivating factor. If you need to deliver a pill to a dog, you’re best off sneaking it into some cheese or peanut butter. Also? I get it. I’m way more motivated by special treats than favorite foods. You can get my ass to the hardware store any day because it’s right next to the Batch Bakehouse and their incredible salted caramel brownies. Replacing a doorknob has never been so salty, sweet, and rich. But I think you can actually apply the concept of high-value food to cooking. It’s a simple conceit: pick recipes with punchy flavors, splurge on the one ingredient that makes the palate pop, and motivate yourself to cook more amazing meals at home. 

The high-value theory of cooking is a simple one that can level up your weeknight dinners. All week long, I’ve been thinking about how to translate it into a more prescriptive set of ideals. At least, I was until the tariffs hit. 

Tariffs, on the whole, are a bad deal for everyone. Tariffs levy a fee against imported goods that the importer has to pay to the government. That fee is then passed along to the retailer, which is then passed onto the consumer. Simply put, a tariff is a type of tax that gets paid to the government earlier in the product cycle. It’s a disastrous policy that egregiously targets the specialty food world. (Full disclosure: The espresso machine company I work for spent an entire week attempting to draft a tariff plan, only to have it change entirely mere hours before our correspondence was due to be sent out.)

While the United States can grow almost anything, the word “almost” holds a lot of weight. There aren’t enough olive trees to support our olive oil demand. Trade with Canada and Mexico makes year-round produce availability possible. Coffee only grows at high elevations in warm climates. Not a single chocolate bar in the grocery store would exist without cacao imports. 

I’m not the smartest guy in the room when it comes to global trade or food policy—last October, I wrote a column rooted in the simple-minded thought, “Duhhhhhhh, I dunno, chicken fingers are good.” But there are big, scary concerns about how devastating tariffs are going to be for small businesses like Asian grocery stores. Other outlets have assembled lists of items likely to see higher price hikes than others. Even in the 12 hours since I started writing this piece, higher “reciprocal” tariffs have been paused in favor of a blanket 10% tariff on almost everything (outside of China), leaving most businesses confused and lost in trying to sort out what their bottom line is going to look like in six months. 

In my original column idea, I wanted to detail how Microplaning a small amount of Parmigiano Reggiano cheese over your pasta instantly hits any recipe with a sweet, nutty, savory wallop. But it’s a cheese that costs $20/lb at most places, which is pricey even if used sparingly. Even if it’s just a 10% tariff, it’s important to remember that 10% is applied to the landed wholesale price. Adding 10% to the import costs has cascading effects by the time the cheese hits the retail shelf, likely boosting retail prices 20-30%. I don’t really have a backup option locked and loaded, but there’s a good chance the folks at Fromagination could help you find a domestic accent cheese.

When extrapolated, the tariff-affected high-value theory of cooking still supports buying your meat from higher-end butchers that source their animals locally, though demand for domestic beef to avoid tariffs will likely push the costs of all meat higher across the board. Making your own fresh pasta is fun, but it’s not really a money saver—the best pasta texture comes from imported pasta flour that’s about to get hit. When it comes to produce, your best bet might be the Dane County Farmers’ Market or local farms like Lovefood Farm’s CSA or the Vitruvian Farm Store. 

But money-saving tactics for individual households can have big impacts down the road. I worry about international grocery stores and how they will see a price increase on nearly all of their goods. If you can, now is the best time to support them—even if it hits your wallet harder. 

The high-value food theory of cooking is designed to be fun. Buy a nice mustard from the National Mustard Museum to church up your sandwiches. Pick up some nicer tinned fish from Alimentari for a snack or to build a stronger flavor base in your sauces. Snag a $15 bottle of wine the next time your recipe wants you to deglaze your pan so you can enjoy a glass with your meal. Try a weird new apple variety from New Zealand the next time you’re at the Willy Street Co-op. Life’s little splurges are worth it, dictates the high-value food theory of cooking. 

The truth is, sadly, that my fun little affordable food-hack idea might not be affordable for everyone anymore. High off our statewide political momentum after the April 1 Wisconsin Supreme Court election, punitive federal policy feels like a slap in the face. Maybe that means this is a moment for us to reimagine what community support means. 

Not everyone is going to be able to shoulder the burden of price increases due to tariffs, but maybe it’s as simple as stressing that those who can should do so. I never thought I’d say that buying avocados from the local Mexican grocery store is a political act, but here are. We’re increasingly facing a catastrophe where we need to consider our ability to impact the community around us, and that decision can be made in our everyday habits. It’s not up to you to save our economy, but you do have the power to help local businesses stay afloat. And at the end of the day, maybe that’s enough for now.

As I’ve said before, whatever the news, you still have to eat. Food should be an expression of joy, even in dark times, and while we can’t control the broad global macroeconomy, you can still control how tasty your dinner is. If you can, spring for the Castelvetrano olives for your sausage and olive pizza. Go ahead and snag the good baguette for soup night. I’ve never seen my dog happier than when he gets a taste of chicken, and you deserve to know the distinct happiness that high-value foods bring—even if you can only afford them some of the time.