Costco's food court has long been a refuge from inflation, a place where a hot dog and soda still cost $1.50 and a giant pizza slice won't wreck your budget.
But the warehouse chain's latest tweak to its churro has longtime shoppers reaching for their receipts and their keyboards.
The beloved twisted churro, once a soft, cinnamon-sugar-coated staple sold for $1.50, has been replaced at many locations by a shorter, denser version — and in some clubs, it's now stuffed with fillings like chocolate or strawberry.
In some regions, it's crept up to $2 or more depending on the location.
Reddit threads and TikTok clips show side-by-side comparisons of the old churro next to the new one, with captions like "bring back the original" racking up thousands of comments.
The core complaint isn't just taste — it's value.
Shoppers say the new churro is smaller, drier, and less of the shareable, oversized treat they remembered.
Costco hasn't issued a sweeping public statement on the switch, and the change appears to be rolling out market by market rather than nationwide on one date.
One shopper in Texas might still find the classic churro, while someone in California gets the filled version — and neither knows which is "official." Here's the money angle most people are missing.
The food court isn't just a perk; it's a traffic driver.
Costco has kept its $1.50 hot dog combo frozen for decades as a loss leader that gets members through the door.
When the chain trims portion sizes or swaps a fan favorite, loyal members notice — and some say it chips away at the goodwill that justifies the annual membership fee, currently $65 for basic and $130 for Executive.
For budget-conscious families, the food court has been a genuine inflation hack.
A $10 bill can feed several people after a shopping run.
If that math gets worse, the "cheap lunch after Costco" ritual loses some of its appeal.
If you're a member who cares about this, there are a few practical moves.
First, check your local club's food court menu before you plan a trip — offerings vary, and calling ahead beats a disappointed kid in the car.
Second, if you're buying the filled churro, compare it to the old size in your head; if it's smaller and pricier, you're paying more per bite, which matters if you buy them for a crowd.
Third, remember that Costco's return and satisfaction policies are generous, and member feedback genuinely gets logged.
Complaining at the food court counter or through the app isn't just venting — it's data the company tracks.
Enough noise has reversed Costco decisions before, and the churro backlash is loud enough to register.
Shrinkflation — smaller portions at the same or higher price — has hit everything from cereal boxes to paper towels.
A churro is small potatoes compared to your grocery bill, but it's a visible symbol of a trend shoppers are tired of.
When a company built its brand on oversized value starts trimming, people feel it.
The bigger lesson for your wallet: don't assume a "deal" stays a deal forever.
Prices and portions shift quietly, and the only defense is paying attention.
That goes for warehouse food courts, restaurant combo meals, and the snack aisle alike.
My take: Costco built enormous loyalty on the promise of more for less, and tinkering with a $1.50 icon is a risky place to test that bond.
The churro itself is trivial — the trust it represents isn't.
Final Thoughts
If enough members speak up, expect the original to make a comeback faster than you can say "sample table."