All I wanted was a bottle of water. But when I went to the refrigerated case at the fancy new coffee bar, there wasn’t a plain water bottle in sight. I had a choice of water with infused electrolytes, an antioxidant-rich artichoke water, and a water that was filtered through thousands of layers of porous volcanic rock.

I guess I shouldn’t have been all that surprised. The water was sold at a coffee bar that specialized in cold-pressed coffee, with beans that were fair-trade, ethically-sourced, and cultivated by an indigenous tribe in the Amazon rainforest.

All of this, of course, translated into really stupid expensive bottles of water and cups of coffee.

Sadly, I realized this hipster trend was not limited to beverages.

Earlier in the day, I went to my farmer’s market where I had to pay extra for locally grown heirloom tomatoes, the exclusive seeds of which, I was told, were left to the market owners in the will of a reclusive Amish farmer. The eggs came from chickens that were cage-free, free-range, and treated to monthly stress-relief massages and paraffin pedicures. And the micro greens came from a blend of several micro lettuces that had been planted by virgins and nurtured with water filtered through the trunks of pygmy elephants from Borneo.

While I know that this trend is thriving because people want it, I can’t help but think about how ridiculous (and expensive) the whole thing has become. Even ice cream has fallen prey to the artisan treatment. Why eat regular old ice cream when you can get some that comes from fancy cows that are fed Siberian kale and sung milking songs to by an acapella chorus of Bavarian men in lederhosen?

When I was growing up, we ate packaged snack cakes, drank plain old sugared-up soda, and cooked with corn oil. My coffee came from a can and my water came from a tap. Now I’m 52 and by some miracle and in spite of my upbringing, I am still alive and seem to be somewhat healthy. Moreover, I have yet to see an obituary that says the deceased died from eating white bread.

Recently, I had a friend come over who only feeds her kids, organic, wheat-free, dairy-free, taste-free food not because they have any allergies but because she believes those food groups create an inhospitable bacterial environment in the gut and may also diminish her children’s IQ by one one-thousandth of a point and she doesn’t want that to be an impediment to them getting into a good-pre-school. She happened to notice a few boxes of macaroni and cheese in my pantry, and she was aghast. She spent the next 10 minutes lecturing me on the dangers of phthalates in the powdered cheese. Truthfully, I wasn’t that moved by her lecture, although I was impressed that she could pronounce phthalates.

As she studiously eyeballed the rest of the contents of my shelves, I gently guided her out of my pantry and assured her that when it came to healthy food, I’m very selective and purposeful in my purchases.

Which is why my kids eat mac and cheese … and my retriever eats artisanal dog food.

— For more Lost in Suburbia, follow Tracy on Facebook at facebook.com/LostinSuburbiaFanPage or on Twitter at @TracyBeckerman.