Cracking the Spangler Food Inflation Code

Proof that sometimes, the biggest case study is your lunch.

If you’ve been to Spangler lately and felt a mysterious emptiness in your wallet, don’t panic — you haven’t accidentally invested in a startup founded by your section-mate who “just discovered AI.” No, that’s just the Spangler Premium, a privilege that ensures you’ll pay $24.99 for a “build-your-own” bowl that you painstakingly assembled like a McKinsey analyst putting together a 100-slide deck at 2 a.m.

While the rest of the country is breathing a sigh of relief as inflation cools, HBS has taken a different approach. The Spangler Price Index (SPI) is climbing so aggressively that even Federal Reserve Chair Jerome Powell is considering enrolling in FIN2 to figure out what’s happening. Last week, I tried to buy a sandwich, and my credit card sent me a notification that just said, “Are you serious?” When I didn’t respond, it followed up with, “We’ve detected suspicious activity. Did you mean to finance a small yacht?”

The real villain in this saga is the salad bar. Last semester, you could build a salad for around $11.50. Now it’s priced by the ounce at $1.89, which sounds reasonable until you realize that romaine lettuce retains water like a distressed asset. I innocently added a few leaves of lettuce, a sprinkle of quinoa, and some grilled chicken to my bowl, and by the time I reached the register, my salad cost $33.75. I briefly considered taking out a bridge loan to cover it, but the cashier just handed me the receipt and said, “That’ll be 3% of your summer internship salary.”

And don’t even get me started on the sushi. Last year, $12 got you a spicy salmon roll. Today, it’s $28.99 for a California roll that contains precisely three pieces and the distant memory of seafood. Rumor has it that the sushi chef is moonlighting as a hedge fund manager, which explains the price surge — he’s financing his next leveraged buyout, one overpriced avocado roll at a time.

But the final insult? The coffee. Once a humble $2.50, it now costs $5.25 and tastes like it was brewed by someone who lost a bidding war on Zillow and took it out on the beans. If you want oat milk, don’t forget to add on another $2 because apparently the oats were hand-milked by monks in a remote Himalayan village who chant “alpha, alpha, alpha” while blessing each carton. Feeling fancy and want a latte? Be prepared to drop $8.75 and spend tax season trying to justify it as a “networking expense.”

Despite all of this, we keep coming back. Why? Well, because what’s the alternative? Trekking over to Felipe’s in between classes on a three-case day with a 90-page BGIE dissertation, two DSAIL assignments on Julius, and a 33-step unit economics exercise for TEM — all of which you may or may not have forgotten to do after your Cape Cod house reunion last night? You’d have better luck asking Section X for directions to office hours. And don’t even mention making your own lunch. By the time you finish microwaving a Trader Joe’s frozen meal in your dorm, you’ve already missed three coffee chats and an info session with Goldman.

To get to the bottom of this enigma, I took it upon myself to conduct a series of hard-hitting interviews with key Spangler stakeholders. Unfortunately, every Grille cashier refused to speak to me, citing a “no comment policy” after I asked if the avocado upcharge was part of a private equity-backed LBO. So, instead, I turned to my peers, who offered some interesting theories.

“It’s a behavioral experiment by the Coffee and Tea Club.”

This was the leading theory from an EC, who asked to remain anonymous because he’s currently taking Negotiation and didn’t want to compromise his future offers.

“Think about it,” he whispered conspiratorially over his $18.50 french onion soup. “Spangler is just testing our price elasticity. They’re seeing how far they can push it before we all collectively switch to eating Quest Bars for lunch.”

“It’s part of the FIELD curriculum.”

Another student was convinced this is an elaborate hands-on exercise.

“We’re living through an operational case,” she said, motioning toward her $22 Caesar salad that now included a surcharge for crispiness. “They’re making us experience inefficiencies in supply chains firsthand. I wouldn’t be surprised if our CAP instructor showed up next week and asked us to map out Spangler’s distribution strategy.”

“Spangler is hedging against inflation... just in case.”

One aspiring investment banker presented the most “finance-y” take of all.

“If inflation does come back, Spangler’s prices will already be adjusted,” he said, his voice dripping with admiration for Spangler’s forward-thinking approach. “It’s a preemptive hedge. Honestly? Genius.”

“It’s the alumni endowment strategy.”

Finally, one theory hit a little too close to home.

“They’re training us to justify outrageous expenses now so that when we become alumni, we won’t question why they’re asking for a $10,000 donation,” said an EC who had clearly cracked the matrix. “Today it’s $14 for a salad. Tomorrow, it’s a capital campaign where they ‘just need a little extra for a new Innovation Lab.’”

But the Most Plausible Theory?

After concluding these eye-opening conversations, I decided to go straight to the source: a mysterious figure known only as “The Guy Who Refills the Chicken Tenders at the Hot Bar.” When I asked him why Spangler’s prices had been climbing so rapidly, he paused, looked around to make sure no one was listening, and whispered, “It’s the almond milk.”

According to him, Spangler’s almond milk budget alone has ballooned so much that it now rivals the GDP of a small country.

“You think this many MBAs can survive on regular milk?” he asked, shaking his head. “No chance. Almond milk is the gold standard now. And you know what happens when demand goes up…”

Where Does This Leave Us?

So, there you have it. Whether it’s an elaborate behavioral experiment, a clever inflation hedge, or just a desperate attempt to secure future alumni donations, one thing is clear: Spangler inflation isn’t going anywhere.

As much as we want to fight it, the reality is we’ll keep swiping our HUIDs and convincing ourselves that spending $26 for a quinoa bowl is a “strategic investment in self-care.” And sure, we’ll complain about it in every section group chat, analyze the price trends like we’re modeling an M&A deal, and promise that “this is the last time I’m doing this,” but the second we have to choose between another overpriced meal and walking 15 minutes across the Charles, we’ll be back in the notoriously long lunch line, justifying the cost by telling ourselves, “Well… at least I’m saving time.”

Because at the end of the day, nothing screams ROI like paying $54 for a meal so you can save your precious absences for a long weekend in Mykonos. 

Michelle Yu (MBA ‘26) is passionate about all things media, with experience in business news, documentary film, broadcast journalism, and television. She graduated from Columbia University with a degree in Film and Media Studies and worked for CNBC, NBC News, and CNN prior to HBS, along with projects for HBO, Showtime, Oxygen, and Spectrum.