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How Much Breakfast at Home Cost 50 Years Ago

How Much Breakfast at Home Cost 50 Years Ago

A few bucks went a long way in 1970

Chaloner Woods/Stringer/Hulton Archive via Getty Images

Breakfast is truly a national treasure, but the meal beloved by many Americans has changed a lot over the years in terms of cost. From chowing down on a plate of bacon and eggs to devouring a New York-style bagel, breakfast 50 years ago may look similar, but it cost a lot less.

What Food a Dollar Could Buy the Year You Were Born

While the 1970s brought some change, including a lot of new fashion trends and the world’s first flavored instant oatmeal, a traditional breakfast for the family rang up to $4.46 in 1970. That price takes into account the cost of the most iconic breakfast foods like bacon, eggs, potatoes, toast, coffee and orange juice. This includes numbers from our guide to the price of eggs the year you were born as well as prices listed by the U.S. Bureau of Labor and Statistics.

In 1970, a pound of bacon cost 95 cents, a dozen eggs cost 60 cents, bread was priced at 24 cents, 10 pounds of potatoes was 90 cents, coffee was 91 cents and a gallon of orange juice cost 86 cents.

And while breakfast in 1970 may have cost you $4.46, lunch for one cost only a buck. You could buy an entire bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich for just $1. 1970 was also the year that Kellogg’s — creator of many iconic food mascots — introduced Frosted Mini-Wheats nationally. And while there are plenty of breakfast cereals we wish would make a comeback, Mini-Wheats remains on shelves to this day.

Breakfast tables across America may have gotten some new items over the years, but you still can’t beat a simple plate of bacon and eggs. To see how much the average breakfast for you and your family would’ve cost throughout the years, check out our guide for how much breakfast cost the year you were born, dating back to 1937.


Street vendor knishes in Manhattan still?

I'm in the Midwest now and I haven't been in New York for at least 10 years. Is it still possible to get potato knishes from street vendors?

Circa 1990, after I graduated from college, I moved to New York for a couple of years, and while my life was not one of unalloyed joy, I dearly loved the potato knishes I got from a street vendor on lower Fifth Avenue at 16th or 17th Street. They were the perfect food. They were square and straightforward. they cost 50 cents apiece (or was it 99 cents?). they were firm and solid. they were a delightful golden brown. you could get them cut in half and smeared with American yellow mustard. you could take them back to the office and eat them, holding them in the accompanying waxed tissue paper. The perfect finger food. The ne plus ultra of gastronomy

I've always hated those fancy-dancy deli or grocery-store knishes. They're just so much mush and they have that flakey, falling-apart undulating outside pastry or crust. They're huge, they don't even have any flavor, they're over-priced, and they're self-congratulatory ("Look at me! I'm an artisanal food!") They have no reason to live, whatever food snobs like Calvin Trillin say.

Anyway, I was scared years ago by a New York Times article that said that you could no longer get street vendor knishes because of dopey new hygiene laws. Is this true? Please tell me it isn't. I want to think that even if I can't have street-vendor knishes, at least other people are lustily enjoying them at this very minute. And I like to think that there will always be a knish out there, calling to me with its siren song, imploring me to come back to New York. "I am the knish of your dreams! Come to me! Retire to New York and live out your golden years surrounded by knishes, bathed in knishes, lit by their eternal glow!" ("Here am I your special knish/Come to me, Come to me.)


Street vendor knishes in Manhattan still?

I'm in the Midwest now and I haven't been in New York for at least 10 years. Is it still possible to get potato knishes from street vendors?

Circa 1990, after I graduated from college, I moved to New York for a couple of years, and while my life was not one of unalloyed joy, I dearly loved the potato knishes I got from a street vendor on lower Fifth Avenue at 16th or 17th Street. They were the perfect food. They were square and straightforward. they cost 50 cents apiece (or was it 99 cents?). they were firm and solid. they were a delightful golden brown. you could get them cut in half and smeared with American yellow mustard. you could take them back to the office and eat them, holding them in the accompanying waxed tissue paper. The perfect finger food. The ne plus ultra of gastronomy

I've always hated those fancy-dancy deli or grocery-store knishes. They're just so much mush and they have that flakey, falling-apart undulating outside pastry or crust. They're huge, they don't even have any flavor, they're over-priced, and they're self-congratulatory ("Look at me! I'm an artisanal food!") They have no reason to live, whatever food snobs like Calvin Trillin say.

Anyway, I was scared years ago by a New York Times article that said that you could no longer get street vendor knishes because of dopey new hygiene laws. Is this true? Please tell me it isn't. I want to think that even if I can't have street-vendor knishes, at least other people are lustily enjoying them at this very minute. And I like to think that there will always be a knish out there, calling to me with its siren song, imploring me to come back to New York. "I am the knish of your dreams! Come to me! Retire to New York and live out your golden years surrounded by knishes, bathed in knishes, lit by their eternal glow!" ("Here am I your special knish/Come to me, Come to me.)


Street vendor knishes in Manhattan still?

I'm in the Midwest now and I haven't been in New York for at least 10 years. Is it still possible to get potato knishes from street vendors?

Circa 1990, after I graduated from college, I moved to New York for a couple of years, and while my life was not one of unalloyed joy, I dearly loved the potato knishes I got from a street vendor on lower Fifth Avenue at 16th or 17th Street. They were the perfect food. They were square and straightforward. they cost 50 cents apiece (or was it 99 cents?). they were firm and solid. they were a delightful golden brown. you could get them cut in half and smeared with American yellow mustard. you could take them back to the office and eat them, holding them in the accompanying waxed tissue paper. The perfect finger food. The ne plus ultra of gastronomy

I've always hated those fancy-dancy deli or grocery-store knishes. They're just so much mush and they have that flakey, falling-apart undulating outside pastry or crust. They're huge, they don't even have any flavor, they're over-priced, and they're self-congratulatory ("Look at me! I'm an artisanal food!") They have no reason to live, whatever food snobs like Calvin Trillin say.

Anyway, I was scared years ago by a New York Times article that said that you could no longer get street vendor knishes because of dopey new hygiene laws. Is this true? Please tell me it isn't. I want to think that even if I can't have street-vendor knishes, at least other people are lustily enjoying them at this very minute. And I like to think that there will always be a knish out there, calling to me with its siren song, imploring me to come back to New York. "I am the knish of your dreams! Come to me! Retire to New York and live out your golden years surrounded by knishes, bathed in knishes, lit by their eternal glow!" ("Here am I your special knish/Come to me, Come to me.)


Street vendor knishes in Manhattan still?

I'm in the Midwest now and I haven't been in New York for at least 10 years. Is it still possible to get potato knishes from street vendors?

Circa 1990, after I graduated from college, I moved to New York for a couple of years, and while my life was not one of unalloyed joy, I dearly loved the potato knishes I got from a street vendor on lower Fifth Avenue at 16th or 17th Street. They were the perfect food. They were square and straightforward. they cost 50 cents apiece (or was it 99 cents?). they were firm and solid. they were a delightful golden brown. you could get them cut in half and smeared with American yellow mustard. you could take them back to the office and eat them, holding them in the accompanying waxed tissue paper. The perfect finger food. The ne plus ultra of gastronomy

I've always hated those fancy-dancy deli or grocery-store knishes. They're just so much mush and they have that flakey, falling-apart undulating outside pastry or crust. They're huge, they don't even have any flavor, they're over-priced, and they're self-congratulatory ("Look at me! I'm an artisanal food!") They have no reason to live, whatever food snobs like Calvin Trillin say.

Anyway, I was scared years ago by a New York Times article that said that you could no longer get street vendor knishes because of dopey new hygiene laws. Is this true? Please tell me it isn't. I want to think that even if I can't have street-vendor knishes, at least other people are lustily enjoying them at this very minute. And I like to think that there will always be a knish out there, calling to me with its siren song, imploring me to come back to New York. "I am the knish of your dreams! Come to me! Retire to New York and live out your golden years surrounded by knishes, bathed in knishes, lit by their eternal glow!" ("Here am I your special knish/Come to me, Come to me.)


Street vendor knishes in Manhattan still?

I'm in the Midwest now and I haven't been in New York for at least 10 years. Is it still possible to get potato knishes from street vendors?

Circa 1990, after I graduated from college, I moved to New York for a couple of years, and while my life was not one of unalloyed joy, I dearly loved the potato knishes I got from a street vendor on lower Fifth Avenue at 16th or 17th Street. They were the perfect food. They were square and straightforward. they cost 50 cents apiece (or was it 99 cents?). they were firm and solid. they were a delightful golden brown. you could get them cut in half and smeared with American yellow mustard. you could take them back to the office and eat them, holding them in the accompanying waxed tissue paper. The perfect finger food. The ne plus ultra of gastronomy

I've always hated those fancy-dancy deli or grocery-store knishes. They're just so much mush and they have that flakey, falling-apart undulating outside pastry or crust. They're huge, they don't even have any flavor, they're over-priced, and they're self-congratulatory ("Look at me! I'm an artisanal food!") They have no reason to live, whatever food snobs like Calvin Trillin say.

Anyway, I was scared years ago by a New York Times article that said that you could no longer get street vendor knishes because of dopey new hygiene laws. Is this true? Please tell me it isn't. I want to think that even if I can't have street-vendor knishes, at least other people are lustily enjoying them at this very minute. And I like to think that there will always be a knish out there, calling to me with its siren song, imploring me to come back to New York. "I am the knish of your dreams! Come to me! Retire to New York and live out your golden years surrounded by knishes, bathed in knishes, lit by their eternal glow!" ("Here am I your special knish/Come to me, Come to me.)


Street vendor knishes in Manhattan still?

I'm in the Midwest now and I haven't been in New York for at least 10 years. Is it still possible to get potato knishes from street vendors?

Circa 1990, after I graduated from college, I moved to New York for a couple of years, and while my life was not one of unalloyed joy, I dearly loved the potato knishes I got from a street vendor on lower Fifth Avenue at 16th or 17th Street. They were the perfect food. They were square and straightforward. they cost 50 cents apiece (or was it 99 cents?). they were firm and solid. they were a delightful golden brown. you could get them cut in half and smeared with American yellow mustard. you could take them back to the office and eat them, holding them in the accompanying waxed tissue paper. The perfect finger food. The ne plus ultra of gastronomy

I've always hated those fancy-dancy deli or grocery-store knishes. They're just so much mush and they have that flakey, falling-apart undulating outside pastry or crust. They're huge, they don't even have any flavor, they're over-priced, and they're self-congratulatory ("Look at me! I'm an artisanal food!") They have no reason to live, whatever food snobs like Calvin Trillin say.

Anyway, I was scared years ago by a New York Times article that said that you could no longer get street vendor knishes because of dopey new hygiene laws. Is this true? Please tell me it isn't. I want to think that even if I can't have street-vendor knishes, at least other people are lustily enjoying them at this very minute. And I like to think that there will always be a knish out there, calling to me with its siren song, imploring me to come back to New York. "I am the knish of your dreams! Come to me! Retire to New York and live out your golden years surrounded by knishes, bathed in knishes, lit by their eternal glow!" ("Here am I your special knish/Come to me, Come to me.)


Street vendor knishes in Manhattan still?

I'm in the Midwest now and I haven't been in New York for at least 10 years. Is it still possible to get potato knishes from street vendors?

Circa 1990, after I graduated from college, I moved to New York for a couple of years, and while my life was not one of unalloyed joy, I dearly loved the potato knishes I got from a street vendor on lower Fifth Avenue at 16th or 17th Street. They were the perfect food. They were square and straightforward. they cost 50 cents apiece (or was it 99 cents?). they were firm and solid. they were a delightful golden brown. you could get them cut in half and smeared with American yellow mustard. you could take them back to the office and eat them, holding them in the accompanying waxed tissue paper. The perfect finger food. The ne plus ultra of gastronomy

I've always hated those fancy-dancy deli or grocery-store knishes. They're just so much mush and they have that flakey, falling-apart undulating outside pastry or crust. They're huge, they don't even have any flavor, they're over-priced, and they're self-congratulatory ("Look at me! I'm an artisanal food!") They have no reason to live, whatever food snobs like Calvin Trillin say.

Anyway, I was scared years ago by a New York Times article that said that you could no longer get street vendor knishes because of dopey new hygiene laws. Is this true? Please tell me it isn't. I want to think that even if I can't have street-vendor knishes, at least other people are lustily enjoying them at this very minute. And I like to think that there will always be a knish out there, calling to me with its siren song, imploring me to come back to New York. "I am the knish of your dreams! Come to me! Retire to New York and live out your golden years surrounded by knishes, bathed in knishes, lit by their eternal glow!" ("Here am I your special knish/Come to me, Come to me.)


Street vendor knishes in Manhattan still?

I'm in the Midwest now and I haven't been in New York for at least 10 years. Is it still possible to get potato knishes from street vendors?

Circa 1990, after I graduated from college, I moved to New York for a couple of years, and while my life was not one of unalloyed joy, I dearly loved the potato knishes I got from a street vendor on lower Fifth Avenue at 16th or 17th Street. They were the perfect food. They were square and straightforward. they cost 50 cents apiece (or was it 99 cents?). they were firm and solid. they were a delightful golden brown. you could get them cut in half and smeared with American yellow mustard. you could take them back to the office and eat them, holding them in the accompanying waxed tissue paper. The perfect finger food. The ne plus ultra of gastronomy

I've always hated those fancy-dancy deli or grocery-store knishes. They're just so much mush and they have that flakey, falling-apart undulating outside pastry or crust. They're huge, they don't even have any flavor, they're over-priced, and they're self-congratulatory ("Look at me! I'm an artisanal food!") They have no reason to live, whatever food snobs like Calvin Trillin say.

Anyway, I was scared years ago by a New York Times article that said that you could no longer get street vendor knishes because of dopey new hygiene laws. Is this true? Please tell me it isn't. I want to think that even if I can't have street-vendor knishes, at least other people are lustily enjoying them at this very minute. And I like to think that there will always be a knish out there, calling to me with its siren song, imploring me to come back to New York. "I am the knish of your dreams! Come to me! Retire to New York and live out your golden years surrounded by knishes, bathed in knishes, lit by their eternal glow!" ("Here am I your special knish/Come to me, Come to me.)


Street vendor knishes in Manhattan still?

I'm in the Midwest now and I haven't been in New York for at least 10 years. Is it still possible to get potato knishes from street vendors?

Circa 1990, after I graduated from college, I moved to New York for a couple of years, and while my life was not one of unalloyed joy, I dearly loved the potato knishes I got from a street vendor on lower Fifth Avenue at 16th or 17th Street. They were the perfect food. They were square and straightforward. they cost 50 cents apiece (or was it 99 cents?). they were firm and solid. they were a delightful golden brown. you could get them cut in half and smeared with American yellow mustard. you could take them back to the office and eat them, holding them in the accompanying waxed tissue paper. The perfect finger food. The ne plus ultra of gastronomy

I've always hated those fancy-dancy deli or grocery-store knishes. They're just so much mush and they have that flakey, falling-apart undulating outside pastry or crust. They're huge, they don't even have any flavor, they're over-priced, and they're self-congratulatory ("Look at me! I'm an artisanal food!") They have no reason to live, whatever food snobs like Calvin Trillin say.

Anyway, I was scared years ago by a New York Times article that said that you could no longer get street vendor knishes because of dopey new hygiene laws. Is this true? Please tell me it isn't. I want to think that even if I can't have street-vendor knishes, at least other people are lustily enjoying them at this very minute. And I like to think that there will always be a knish out there, calling to me with its siren song, imploring me to come back to New York. "I am the knish of your dreams! Come to me! Retire to New York and live out your golden years surrounded by knishes, bathed in knishes, lit by their eternal glow!" ("Here am I your special knish/Come to me, Come to me.)


Street vendor knishes in Manhattan still?

I'm in the Midwest now and I haven't been in New York for at least 10 years. Is it still possible to get potato knishes from street vendors?

Circa 1990, after I graduated from college, I moved to New York for a couple of years, and while my life was not one of unalloyed joy, I dearly loved the potato knishes I got from a street vendor on lower Fifth Avenue at 16th or 17th Street. They were the perfect food. They were square and straightforward. they cost 50 cents apiece (or was it 99 cents?). they were firm and solid. they were a delightful golden brown. you could get them cut in half and smeared with American yellow mustard. you could take them back to the office and eat them, holding them in the accompanying waxed tissue paper. The perfect finger food. The ne plus ultra of gastronomy

I've always hated those fancy-dancy deli or grocery-store knishes. They're just so much mush and they have that flakey, falling-apart undulating outside pastry or crust. They're huge, they don't even have any flavor, they're over-priced, and they're self-congratulatory ("Look at me! I'm an artisanal food!") They have no reason to live, whatever food snobs like Calvin Trillin say.

Anyway, I was scared years ago by a New York Times article that said that you could no longer get street vendor knishes because of dopey new hygiene laws. Is this true? Please tell me it isn't. I want to think that even if I can't have street-vendor knishes, at least other people are lustily enjoying them at this very minute. And I like to think that there will always be a knish out there, calling to me with its siren song, imploring me to come back to New York. "I am the knish of your dreams! Come to me! Retire to New York and live out your golden years surrounded by knishes, bathed in knishes, lit by their eternal glow!" ("Here am I your special knish/Come to me, Come to me.)