I've sold out. And I don't have any regrets.

The deal spotter who tries to find the lowest prices isn't always walking the walk and talking the talk with his own personal spending. I'm spending 20 to 50 percent more on some items because I practice buying local and buying American when I can.

The damage to my wallet? Frozen chicken breasts that cost $2 a pound at Aldi are $4 per pound at the co-op for organic, Minnesota-raised chicken. (Did I mention that I'm eating less chicken?) A Bose radio made in the United States costs $150 more than an excellent Cambridge Soundworks model made in China, but I swallowed hard and paid the domestic upcharge. When shopping for a sofa, I didn't ask the salesperson to point me to "clean and simple under $1,500," I asked for the "made in the USA" section.

Why? Because I feel better doing it. I feel healthier. I walk a little lighter on the planet buying local meat and produce without chemicals and long transport. Keeping a neighbor employed means more to me than a bargain that's cheap but disposable.

You can say I've lost my edge, that I'm crazy to be paying more in a recession, but I'm not alone. Even since the downturn, businesses large and small say customers are asking about product origin like never before. Every item (more than 200) in Menards' recent Sunday circular featured items made in the United States and indicated city of origin. The slogan at local furniture retailer Room & Board is "Made by American families, not factories." Lynne Gonzier, who owns Ãœber Baby in Minneapolis, is designing a line of moderately priced baby clothes made in the U.S.A., based on customer demand.

Rethinking shopping

Consumers are rethinking their shopping strategies, according to a recent survey of 4,000 U.S. residents by IBM Communications. Nearly 72 percent of Americans put quality ahead of price when they're shopping. At Room & Board, with its mid- to upper-end furniture lines, more customers are reacting to its commitment to local and U.S. manufacturers than ever before, said Bruce Champeau, vice president of merchandising. More than 85 percent of its products are made domestically, including its steel Parsons tables made in Golden Valley and the Linear case goods made in Shell Lake, Wis.

"Customers not only want to know where it's made," said Champeau. "They want to know how it's constructed and how sustainable the materials are."

Before the recession, "buy American" seemed like a better idea in theory than in practice, at least to me. I've heard many good arguments against buying American. For example, if other countries instituted their own version of "buy local," our exports would drop and jobs would be lost. Blindly supporting "buy American" might also compromise quality. Without a free market, competition dwindles and quality suffers.

How many years did U.S. automakers take advantage of Americans' desire to "buy American" and still produced an inferior product? I'm not going to reward mediocrity or support any company that says insincerely that "Quality is job one" if foreign-made products are better. I'm cynical enough to believe that some U.S. corporations that tout "buy American" or want tariffs on foreign products are just asking for a form of corporate welfare. So I believe in free trade.

Health trumps savings

And just because a product is local doesn't mean it's safer. Considering the number of E. coli scares from large U.S. agricultural concerns, domestically produced foods are hardly taint-free. Local doesn't always mean pesticide-free, either -- so I prefer to buy from farmers market vendors who grow certified organic produce. I like supporting people I can look in the face and ask questions of. I like knowing that I'm lightening my carbon footprint by buying food that wasn't shipped from Chile. (Bing cherries in the winter? A little luxury I can resist.)

My weekly visits to the farmers markets this summer actually have saved me money on vegetables compared with supermarkets. The bags of locally grown organic greens for $2 would be $3.50 or more at Cub or Rainbow. Red peppers? Twice the farmers market price. It'll be a sad day next month when the farmers market near me closes for the winter, but I can still buy Minnesota-raised meat and a few veggies, such as hothouse tomatoes grown in Owatonna.

Even Wal-Mart has joined the locavore movement by adding "locally grown" produce such as sweet corn at Supercenters. It's an admirable attempt, but worth a dose of skepticism. Does the produce get shipped to a distribution facility one state over so it can be divided among 10 stores? Will Wal-Mart give me the name of the farmer in case I have a question about pesticides and fertilizer? Seeing him or her face-to-face at a farmers market seems more transparent for now.

If I get laid off, my locavore resolve might crumble. As long as I am still employed, I don't mind paying more for some items. But as a guy who makes a living trying to save people money, I struggle with the price differences. Is it worth it to me to pay more for chicken that wasn't raised in a commercial slum? Yes, although I eat less of it to offset the higher price. Is it worth it for me to pay more for a Bose Wave radio because it's made in the United States? Tough call, but yes. (Some of the parts aren't U.S.-made, but it's assembled domestically.)

I don't want to be the consumer chasing low prices all the way to China if it means losing my ability to appreciate quality. I'd rather save a neighbor's job than save a buck. If it costs more, so be it.

John Ewoldt • 612-673-7633 or jewoldt@startribune.com. If you spot a deal, share it at www.startribune.com/blogs/dealspotter.

A tightwad's dilemma