The war over Mercadona: why Spain's Hacendado brand divides shoppers

Mercadona and Hacendado: the own-brand nobody judges with indifference

There is a Spain that fills its suitcase at Mercadona before catching a flight, and another that eyes the Hacendado shelf with the same distrust as a three-euro banknote. Juan Roig's chain, the market leader in Spanish grocery retail, carries a paradox that resurfaces every time an article about ultra-processed foods is published: it is held to a standard nobody else is. It sells what customers buy, and yet it is blamed for creating the habit.

The criticism has several layers. One is quality: some claim Hacendado produces "totally modified" foods and that chains like Lidl beat it on imported Italian and German products. Another is price: the constant comparison between premium brands and own brands is seen as misleading, because some argue it was precisely Hacendado that raised the bar for own brands, and without it retailers would still be stuck in the basement. And a third is historical attribution: it is credited with inventing takeaway food when competitors were exploring that business earlier.

Price as a battleground

The most repeated argument is that of the product that degrades within hours. A 3-euro burger that dries out on the shelf is compared with one from another chain at 1.75, and the conclusion writes itself: you pay for the brand, not the food. It is when the math is broken down item by item that shoppers truly decide whether the difference is worth it.

What almost nobody disputes is the social function of the surplus. Products nearing their best-before date are sold off at clearance prices instead of ending up in the bin, and with today's margins, that is as defensible a commercial policy as any. The controversy is not about waste; it is about who can afford to choose.

The hiring policy nobody looks at

Beyond the shelves, the conversation shifts to the stores themselves. People criticise staff selection and uniforms, and describe a hiring pattern the company itself does not confirm. These are customer perceptions, not audits: they should be taken for what they are, counter impressions, not documented corporate policy.

The narrative built from outside

The underlying accusation is that the chain aims to replace home cooking with its shelves. It is a hypothesis, not a fact, and those who raise it lean on historical analogies rather than data. The reality is more prosaic: if it did not sell that food, it would be criticised for not selling it, by the very people now attacking it. The controversy was never about food.

One sticking point remains: the own brand is no longer the option for those who cannot pay more; it is the default option. And no article can fight against that.