Day 1: Shopping
I forgot my calculator.
That was my first thought as I walked into Price Low Foods, a discount grocery store near where I live in the economically mixed Cambrian neighborhood, to shop for the Food Stamp Challenge. For the next week, my partner and I were going to live on a dollar per meal, or $21 each. I had planned to carefully scrutinize each can and package, dividing out number of servings and closely estimating price-per-meal. Without a calculator, how was I going to make sure that I squeezed the most value and nutrition out of every penny?
Nevertheless, I plunged forward. While I usually shop at mainstream grocery stores, this store was okay. Not much selection of brand or size, but they did have almost everything I was looking for. Since we only eat kosher meat, and rarely even that, I bought only vegetarian items and tuna. There was no fresh fish, and I’m sure it wouldn’t fit the budget anyway. The produce section was rather dismal, but the prices were indeed low. After an hour of tediously circling the aisles, dutifully comparing grams of protein and price per ounce, I emerged triumphant.
In my cart:
Canned pasta sauce, $.98
2 lbs vermicelli pasta, $1.98
Small peanut butter, $1.99
Oatmeal, $2.98
1 lb. block of pepperjack cheese, $4.99
2 cans of light tuna in water, $1.78
1 lb lentils, $. 99
10 flour tortillas, $2.49
Canned corn, $.69
Canned black beans, $.99
Canned stewed tomatoes , $.99
2 lbs. rice, $1.28
1 dozen medium eggs, $1.69
Decent looking broccoli crowns, $1.45
2 lb. bag of carrots, $1.17
4 hard roma tomatoes, $1.11
1 rather soft cucumber, $.50
1 bundle of green onions, $.50
3 ancient large red apples, $1.29
4 perfectly ripe large bananas, $1.23
5 lb. bag of potatoes, $1.58
Red onion, $.63
Green bell pepper, $.39
TOTAL: $33.68
They don’t have tofu, which I had wanted for a stir-fry, so I plan to use egg instead. I also skipped some things on my list, like bread and milk. Since I have some money left over, I may go shopping again mid-week to get some more produce. There is plenty of food in my shopping bags for boring and repetitive yet nutritious meals, but no snacks or desserts. Sigh.
Day 1 (Friday):
I love oatmeal. Especially with a spoonful of peanut butter mixed in. I should eat this every day. Oh wait, I’m going to.
I love baked potatoes. Especially with a tiny pile of cheese on top. I should eat this every day. Oh wait…
For dinner, I prepare pasta with tuna, tomatoes, and scallions, and steamed carrots on the side. I also make a big pot of lentil soup to serve tomorrow, and hard-boil four eggs. A friend calls and we invite her over for Shabbat dinner. What will this do to my perfectly measured meals? Should I serve the soup that was going to be for tomorrow? Should I add the second can of tuna to the pasta? But then we’ll be out of tuna and it’s only the first day. I add a little more pasta, but put the second can of tuna back in the cupboard. I’m sure everything will be fine, I reassure myself. She’s not a big eater.
So we serve the pasta and carrots--a perfectly reasonable mid-week meal, but not usually what we would serve for Shabbat, especially when we have a guest. There is enough to go around, but nothing left over.
Day 2 (Saturday):
We usually have a nice breakfast on Shabbat morning, like bagels and lox, but today it’s oatmeal with peanut butter and half a banana. My son claims he wants a hard-boiled egg (the kids are not participating in the challenge, since their favorite foods are Bagel Bites and blueberries, respectively, but I can’t really tell him that he can’t have my egg). He peels it, takes a nibble, and drops it into the sink. “I changed my mind,” he announces. I fish it out from the dishes, rinse it off, and put it back in the fridge.
For lunch, lentil soup, a quesadilla, and the salvaged egg. Filling, but not celebratory. I have an apple later in the day for a snack.
Dinner is peanut butter pasta and Israeli salad. The pasta is delicious—peanut pasta is one of my favorites—but the salad is not a success. The cucumber is almost all seeds and the tomato is mealy and flavorless. I add more pepper. After two more bites I tell myself that it will be better tomorrow and put it away.
Day 3 (Sunday):
Breakfast is the same. It’s been pretty successful so far in keeping me full until lunch. Today lunch is late, so I’m a little grouchy. Lunch is more lentil soup and a baked potato.
So far, I’m feeling pretty self-congratulatory. See, this isn’t so bad, I tell myself. I can live without convenience food. Or meat. Or milk. Or juice. My liberal guilt and my tendency toward smugness battle for victory…until…
I burn the rice.
Dinner preparations are not going well. First I burn the rice and am consumed with self-recrimination as I consider my options. Throw it away and start over? There’s probably enough rice left for the rest of the week….after all, it is a two-pound bag. But I’m nervous about throwing off my meal plans for the next few days. Scrape off what’s still good and just have a little less tonight? I opt for the latter, especially since it would take too long to make a new batch. Luckily the baby seems to enjoy the crispy (read: burned) rice from the bottom of the pan.
Next I am befuddled by the egg that I want to put into the stir-fry. I remember from making egg drop soup years ago that you can drop the beaten egg into boiling water, so I try that. Bad idea. The egg drifts into clouds of nothingness in the water, and now I’m down an egg. The Food Stamp Challenge may call upon a certain amount of creativity, but not culinary risk-taking by an amateur like me. I scramble two more eggs and toss them into the stir-fry.
The stir-fry turns out more like fajitas, perhaps due to the high ratio of onions (cheaper than the other veggies) involved. The abundance of seasoning also can’t conceal the fact that it’s really mostly carrots. Topaz politely compliments the meal, but the baby voices her opinion more honestly. Still, there’s nothing left over.
Later that night, after everyone else is in bed, I’m playing around on the computer and head to the kitchen for some mindless snacking. I grab the half-empty ice cream and a spoon and sail in…I’m several bites in before I even remember the Challenge. This is another important lesson for me in this process—to reflect on the many roles that food plays in our lives. Not only fuel, but community, celebration, comfort, and more. Even though I’ve been spending hours shopping and chopping, I still need to work at bringing greater mindfulness into my daily life. I throw the carton away and go to bed, embarrassed.
Day 4 (Monday):
Our morning routine is going smoothly enough. We remember that it’s Monday and that means our son needs his school T-shirt and his folder. The trash is by the curb, the laundry is in the dryer, we’re out the door with the confidence of another successful morning behind us…
…except that I’ve forgotten about lunch. I rarely pack a lunch, except during the brief fits of financial or nutritional reform that seize us every few months, instead preferring to get out of the office for a quick bite at Togo’s, Noah’s, High Tech, Una Mas, or the JCC café. Now, of course, that’s out of the question. I race back inside. No time for thinking of an inspired meal, much less preparing it. I put more lentil soup (now more like a thick stew) in a Tupperware, grab a raw potato, a tiny wedge of cheese (can that really be an ounce? I must have measured wrong), and half a banana.