Survivor Challenge: Groceries

It’s been awhile. You’ll forgive me, of course.

When I first moved out on my own, my mom cleaned out her cupboards: the odd mismatched bowl set, couple coffee mugs, placemats that didn’t go with her kitchen anymore, and a few cookbooks. One caught my eye: “How to Feed a Family of 4 on Less Than $5 a Day.”

She was glad to be rid of it, and I was glad to just have “stuff.” I used that cookbook. Flipped through it a few times. I recognized some of the recipes and realized how often that book had fed me. We often had canned corn, Kraft Dinner, and weiners (cut diagonally, no idea why) with barbeque sauce. It felt like three days a week, every week. But maybe my mother was on to something…

Lately I’ve been watching smut flipping through channels, and notice so many of the talk shows lately are discussing the recession and how it’s affecting so many middle-class people. Last week, for example, Oprah and her designer, Nate something-or-other talked about affordable, easy solutions for redecorating a livingroom. Couple pillows, couple pictures, some furniture throws, a new rug, etc. I heard Oprah exclaim, “Wow.. you can redecorate your whole room for the price of a new pair of shoes!”

How much do you pay for your shoes, Oprah?

Today’s Dr. Phil just.. well, floored me. Another show on the recession featuring an “average” family “struggling” to make ends meet. They complained about how they used to drive a Mercedes and take vacations in Hawaii and Costa Rica and Venus and.. (I may have missed some of the destinations. Was searching for my violin.)

Eventually, I will get to my point. This “poor” mother had 2 children to feed, no income, and couldn’t quite grasp that she didn’t need 40 pairs of shoes. And didn’t need to keep buying toys. And didn’t need the handbags and closets of clothes while still shopping for more.

What blew me away, was when their “expert” took the mother grocery shopping, and explained to her that she needs to purchase things when they are on sale. (This was a brand new concept.) And that $1.50/lb was a really good deal for asparagas. And how she should stock up on avacados since they were only 33 cents each.

May I interject?

You’re idiots.

Really? Thirty three cents is a good price for an avocado? Umm.. I’m thinking if you’re poor and your children are starving and you can’t afford the gas to get to the store to buy your groceries, asparagus and avocados are the VERY LAST things you should be reaching for. Dr. Phil kept stressing that “it’s math — not magic,” and I agree. He also stressed that this family needs to go into “survival mode,” and I agree. But I also firmly believe that avocados are one of those mythical beasts that are only purchased by people who live in penthouses and can afford drycleaning and cocktail parties with those tiny swords.

AVOCADOS. Gah! No! No! No! I say again, No! What does that fruit do? For thirty three cents, it has a big pit in the middle and you have to add it to something. For thirty three cents, it will not fill you up.

I’ve never been so insulted by thirty three cents.

So… here is my challenge. We’re in survival mode. Let’s pretend we have two kids to feed. Let’s pretend our grocery budget is $1000 / year. Let’s pretend we don’t want to die of scurvy, and we never, ever want to go to bed hungry. Let’s pretend it’s math, not magic.

My friends have asked me how I prepare meals for under a dollar. Here are some tips, because many people just don’t get it:

Survival Mode (no particular order):

1. Pick a few things — no more than 5 — that would lead you to a new level of insane if they weren’t in the house. For example, I pick milk, margarine, coffee, and one other condiment (ketchup or mayo or soy sauce.. something like that). If you run out of one of these, you are in trouble. Ask for help.

2. Perishables get you in nothing but trouble. This is a big one. I do a “big” grocery-shop three times a year. Not so coincidentally, this is how often I have cash .. When you have the money, stock up. Cans, cans, cans. And as exciting as canned peas are.. well, we’re surviving, right? Canned and frozen fruits and vegetables are actually better for you than the fresh stuff you find in the supermarket, anyway. (They get frozen or canned within 48 hours of picking.. and there’s some chemical.. half-life thing going on here. It’s not a chemistry blog.) We do almost always have bananas and one other fresh fruit on hand.

3. Buy in bulk. Get cases of vegetables. Pick 2 or 3 you really think you can get comfortable with. Maybe peas. Maybe corn. Maybe frozen carrots. Canned peaches — whatever. Pick a few. You usually get a deal and can pick up most things for 50 cents per can if you buy say.. a dozen cans. Store them somewhere.

4. Consider alternates. This ties in nicely with “perishables are evil” or whatever I called it above. For example, we cover pasta with tomato or mushroom soup. It’s bland.. but again.. Oh! And instead of sour cream — $1 for 250g if you’re lucky — try Ranch dressing… which, if you’re lucky, is $1.50 for 750ml, lasts much, much longer in the fridge, and tastes kinda the same. Ish. You’ll find you’ll use less.

5. No eating out ever, at any time. No junk food. Nuff said.

6. Buy food as close to its natural form as possible. Potatoes are a great example. Buy a 20lb bag (let’s say there’s 40 potatoes / bag) for $5 (kinda perishable, but kinda not really). Or, buy a box of dehydrated “mashed” potatoes.. should last 4 meals for $3.  Or swing by Mcdonalds, buy their fries.. the equivalent of one potato… you see where I”m going. It’s a little more work, but it’s math, not magic.

7. Pasta. Rice. Get used to them. Pasta is cheap. Cheap. And filling. You can get a kilogram of spaghetti for about a buck most days. Are you going to eat a dry kilogram in a sitting? No. And it lasts forever. (Til it starts to smell like paint. Notice?)

8. Get a deep freeze and a crock pot. Fill the deep freeze when you have the money. Buy bread. Lots of it. Seriously, Atkins be damned. A regular loaf of bread has 24 slices in it. Ugh. Let me get my calculator. At a respectable $1.50 / loaf, that’s about 6 cents a slice. And you can do what you want with the end pieces.

9. When you start to panic… make soup. Use that crock pot. Throw in some broth, diced tomatoes.. and then whatever you have left in the freezer. Rice, pasta, the lasts of the bags of frozen carrots, peas, potatoes, whatever. It should last you 4 days.

10. If you have to — HAVE TO — have that avocado.. buy it in season. And on sale. Maybe it’s on your list from 1.) *shudder*

11. (I didn’t want to have an 11. Ten was so nice.. like I had planned it or something) Two-ply is two-ply is two-ply. Go generic. Whenever you can. I do not recommend generic Cheerios.

12. (Ok, ok. Even dozen then.) This will be easier if you don’t eat meat, don’t eat a lot of meat, or can skip it for a little bit. Just while we’re surviving.

One more thing. I don’t buy expired — or nearly expired — stuff. And I never count milk in the cost. Milk is milk is milk. Kids need milk.. whatever the cost, and shouldn’t go without. Also, it’s first on my list in 1)… so nyah nyah

So, some examples? We should finish the chapter with examples, before I send you on your way. All we do is a bit of division. (Oh, we can do this, Grasshopper. We can do this well.)

Breakfast –> Buy 12 eggs at $2. Eat two = 33cents. 2 toasts = 12 cents (as above). Sausages.. $5.75 for 48 (Freeze them!) Eat 2 = 24 cents. Make your own coffee (Ugh. What.. 6 bucks for.. *running upstairs to check.. damn you!*…. ) 6 bucks for about a kilogram.. each cup needs about a scoop.. so what are we saying here? Coffee is free if you make it at home? Let’s say it’s 10 cents / cup.

Breakfast = 69 cents. Shall we do lunch?

Lunch –> 1kg spaghetti for $1. Eat 1/5 of the bag (I’m not good at fractions. Let’s just roll with it) = 20 cents. Cream of mushroom soup (we can skip rule 11 here and actually get the good stuff if we buy in bulk… 12 cans for $6) = 50 cents. Canned fruit (to stave off scurvy) for 50 cents / can. Eat 1/2 can = 25 cents. Milk.

Lunch = 95 cents. I hope we’re getting the hang of this. Let’s go all out on supper, just in case.

Supper –> Pierogies. (Don’t know what those are? You haven’t lived.) We can buy a frozen bag (because we’re lazy.. just don’t tell my mom) of 2kg — roughly 24 for $2. Let’s eat 3 = 25 cents. (Also, I wish there were better formatting options here. This is getting messy.) Grab your favourite bag of frozen vegetables. Carrots? Peas? Peas and carrots? It gets bland. You’ll get used to it. Ok. We have our $2 bag of peas. Let’s eat ohh.. 1/8 of the bag = 25 cents. Grab a can of brown beans for 50 cents  (good meat substitute) and eat 1/3 of it = 17 cents. Lastly, some Ranch (or whatever) dressing for the pierogies. Milk.

Supper = 67 cents.

There. We ate. We saw food groups. No one died.

Try it! Start with 10 dollars and see how long you can last. Let me know how you do. You’ll find the more people you feed (ohh.. that bulk thing again), the cheaper the meals get. I’ve been doing this 12 years, so I want to say I’m pretty good at it. But don’t mind me. It’s just.. survival

Corn bran.

The Boy is at a fun age food-wise. At almost 8 months old, he’s tried most fruits and vegetables, a few meats, and we’ve begin dabbling in finger foods and different textures.

And wasn’t it cute when I popped a piece of corn bran cereal in his mouth, and he made a funny face. And wasn’t it cute as he sucked it down to mush before swallowing and opening his little mouth for more.. And wasn’t it adorable how feeding him the next four or five pieces led to a realization that even a small amount of bran cereal to a baby that small would be akin to an average-sized woman injesting A BOX of laxatives.

And wasn’t it ADRORABLE when the house smelled like a sewage plant explosion for two days in one of the hottest weeks of the year.

Lesson learned.. lesson learned.

They walk among us.

Alright, this one needs a whole new post. Cause really.

On Thursday, I took the kids to daycare, and met up with a friend at the university for some much-needed tutoring before finals. Afterwards, I ran a few errands and decided to stop by the grocery store, since I was kid-free for a few minutes. The Boy has finally started dabbling in solid foods. (And incidentally, this is one of my favourite parts of having a baby in the house. Besides the toothless grins and first wobbly steps, I’d say first foods are such an incredible milestone to be a spectator to. I saw a nutritionist once a week for a year when The Girl was a baby, and she has an excellent appetite. When offered a donut or brocolli, she picks the latter. Wonderful.)

Ok. Yes. So I’m at the grocery store. Picking out baby food. I’m minding my own business, silently wondering why Heinz doesn’t seem to offer plain wheat as a cereal flavour anymore. A lady is behing me, stocking diapers or wipes or other baby items. She singles me out and says, “you’re lucky you’re doing that today. It’s going to be nuts in here this weekend.” She sounded sort of disgusted, so I asked what big excitement could possibly be upcoming. “Child tax,” she said.

Now, really. That just pissed me off. As a little bit of background, “child tax” is a monthly payment to parents of small children from the Canadian government. It’s based on income, and I believe parents are eligible until their household salary is somewhere around $40 000 / year. (I’m a student, my income is essentially nill, and I max out on child tax. Cool.) I’m not an economics major, I don’t know how this makes Canada essentially socialist (does it?), and no idea what’s really going on with the taxes and politics, blah blah blah.

Anyway. I — like many, many others — get money on the 20th. It’s to pay for daycare. It’s to pay for food and toys and heat and water for baths and laundry. It’s to pay for diapers and kindergarten school supplies and clothes and haircuts for kids so that they don’t have to live in poverty. And yet, people still get upset over it. It’s tax free. And only for parents or guardians. I’ll be paying taxes soon enough, and I know my tax dollars will help others in similar situations. I know many people abuse it and buy alcohol or make car payments and such on the 20th. I get that.

But we weren’t in a liquor store. We were in a grocery store. And I was buying baby food. It was the 19th of the month, and yeah, most people who are eligible for child tax are probably living month-to month. Maybe the-20th-to-the-20th. And maybe it would have made more sense to wait til that extra money was in to get baby food. Maybe. And maybe if she had taken a moment to notice that it was the middle of a Thursday afternoon (when maybe I should have been at a day job), I’m fairly young-looking, my clothes were slightly ill-fitting, my cart was not full, and I was buying BABY FOOD… maybe — just maybe — I get child tax. I’m not useless, I don’t sit at home all day, my kids want for nothing, my bills are paid, and yes, I do depend on the 20th. For baby food, daycare, kindergarten school supplies, heat, water for baths, etc etc etc..

Like, fuck.

I went on to remark that Heinz doesn’t seem to make plain wheat cereal. She suggested I call the company and complain. Oh, boy. “Yes, Heinz? Concerned parent here. Would you mind taking the fruit out of your wheat cereal and stocking your inventory the same way you did five years ago when no one knew any better? Cause umm.. I met a psycho at a grocery store, and she suggested I call you. Oh, and about child tax…”

An older couple came through the aisle. “You’re lucky you’re here today. It’s going to be nuts here on the weekend,” she said. Some people should just.. not be around others.

The shower.

My sister is getting married in a few weeks, so last night, we held a sort-of shower for her and her beau. There was a LOT of food.

Vegan Fear Factor

 

And actually, it was all vegan.

The family put on a “mock wedding,” which was well.. very, very strange to say the least. The men dressed as women, the women as men. The Girl was the flower boy (and really, this kid didn’t talk about anything else for two weeks leading up to it, and it must have been killing her to keep the secret from her aunt).

Surprisingly, no one wants their pictures plastered over the Internet (spoil sports) but here are a few “safe ones” (I think). Doesn’t quite capture the insanity of the moment, but they’ll do

 

 

The “bride” ~~ “No silkworms were harmed in the making of this dress.”

All but over.

Branded!

Signing the register (are you laughing?)

I think that’s a Canadian thing.

I went to Kentucky last summer. It was the furthest south I’d ever been by a long shot. I met a friend who I’d never ever “really” met, but had kept in contact with for years as an internet pen pal. She was getting married, so it was finally great timing.

The town she lived in was quite small, and I found it refreshing. Everything about it was comforting. I’d grown up in a small town myself, and always enjoy snippets of rural living. Once I got past the southern accents and all the excited “YOU must be the Canadian!!” everything seemed pretty much the same as home. Except a few things. The bugs were different. I saw one in my friend’s hair once, and wasn’t sure if it would bite me or not. I panicked. She asked what it looked like while furiously trying to bat it from her hair. “Uhh.. it’s like… orange. Or red. Kinda like a June bug had sex with a ladybug and then exploded.” She calmed down and quickly removed it. Apparently it was harmless.

The candy was different. I’m not a big candy-eater, but there were no Cheezies. No buttertarts (I brought some with me), no Coffee Crisp. And the iced tea. She assured me before I left that the iced tea was the stuff I’d grown up on and drank every week in Canada. “It’s sweetened,” she said. I took my first sip. NONONONONONO. It’s different! In Canada, the iced tea is just brown sugar-water. It tastes like tea there! I’d never get used to it. Greens, dumplins, cornbread, okra — never heard of any of it.

We spent days discussing which brands and products were ”Canadian” and which were “American.” I was amazed by grits and Yoo Hoos, and made poutine for my friends there (the gravy was a little “off,” so I don’t know if they realize how freakin fantastic it really is). I was so caught up in this days-long conversation, that one morning (now, I was 3 months pregnant at the time, tired, cranky, and having some pretty strong cravings), when ALL I wanted was a bagel — every pore of my body and every ounce of my being was fixated on that bagel — and her new husband said “I think that’s a Canadian thing,” I believed him. (They’re Jewish, of course. And I did find one that morning.)

One more thing. When I walked in her mother’s house, I took my shoes off. Apparently that’s a Canadian thing? They all laughed a little and insisted I keep them on, but some Northern force ripped them off my feet at the front door.

This trip was almost a year ago, but something happened the other day that made me consider another “Canadian thing.” I was at the grocery store (you’ve been waiting for this story, I know). I bought some milk through the regular check-out, and then headed over to Customer Service. I had worked at the store years ago for a few months, and my old boss was behind the counter. She’s wonderful. Always friendly and kind, and was a great person to work for. And she she doesn’t know about this blog, so that’s saying something. ;) I was second in line. The lady ahead of me was returning a kettle, and I figured it was none of my business, so I stood back a few feet and waited my turn. My old boss saw me, smiled, and said she would be “right with me.” She remembered me, and it was a great feeling.

Then someone came behind the lady returning the kettle, and dropped off some film for developing. Well, fine. Maybe he didn’t see me. The kettle lady left, and just as I was going to approach the counter, two kids hurried in and asked about a movie. Ummm.. well, ok. They’re kids. I guess. Then another film developer. Then two people who needed cigarettes.

Twenty-five minutes in, I’m finally “first” in line. She looked at me and asked what I needed. “Just a lighter.” Maybe she was shocked I’d waited in line all that time and graciously allowed all the butters. She admitted she thought I was waiting to talk to her about a job (nope). All the while, I was silently fuming. That no one saw me, or no one cared. I could have walked out, could have freaked out. Could have said, “No no. It’s MY turn. I was AHEAD of you.” And yeah, maybe after six people bustled in front of me, it was my fault. I wasn’t feeling particularly friendly, and I was in no more or less of a rush than anyone else. It was just natural to grit through it. Maybe I’m just non-confrontational.

Maybe it’s a Canadian thing.

Back to skool

After a 4-month hiatus, I am back at school! And ohhh, what a day. I am NOT a morning person, but I set my alarm for 8AM. And I was up by eight. Thirty. Ish. The Girl dressed herself before I even had to ask (what a sweetheart). I showered, dressed, fed The Boy, cleaned up the resulting vomit (I’m going to have to diaper his face soon, I think), made cereal for the girl, made coffee, combed hair, clipped nails, etc etc etc until 10AM. When I realized I hadn’t even emptied a backpack since December. ARGH. I found one, dumped it upside down, and threw in 2 pens, a fresh pack of paper, a calculator (mmm nerdy), my wallet, and my class schedule and we were out-the-door-let’s-go-let’s-GO and in the car with engine running by 10:13AM.

Drove to daycare and was back on my way to school 9 minutes later. Trying to not buy a parking pass this summer, I parked a block or so away (half in a 2-hour spot, half in a no-stopping spot). The paid parking area isn’t that much closer, really. It’s usually pretty nice here in the summer, and I might as well walk off that baby weight, even if it’s only 10 minutes at a time.

Finally got to the University with 20 minutes to spare. I walked in, and immediately sucked in a smell I didn’t know I’d been missing: old textbooks, sweat, and floor cleaner. It was wonderful, really. Off to class. Decided not to take the 4 flights of stairs up (I did take them down later!) and chose the elevator. I always like to rationalize my laziness by telling the next person to the elevator that it’s “too early” or I’m “just lazy.” This morning though, the next person who came was in a wheelchair, so I kept my mouth shut.

And I was early. By 10 whole minutes. That never, EVER happens. The class filled up: 26 guys, 3 girls. A guy who’s been in a few of my classes sat down next to me. Had his earphones at such a level the only thing I could hear was the *boom boom hiss* of his “music.” (Do these people think we can’t hear that?) He breathed loudly. Harummm.. Harummm.. He brought lunch, I guess. Again, I’m a vegetarian, and I’m not sure what animal died to make it in that tupperware container. Good Lord. The chewing sounds.

Side rant: I can’t stand loud smokers or loud eaters. If it’s crunchy food, fine. But I know people who can’t eat mashed potatoes quietly. Saliva swishing, jaw popping, nostrils flaring, throat gulping, nose hissing. It makes me sick. This may be a remnant of an eating disorder I spent years watching, or maybe it’s just genuinely gross. I dunno. And I wonder if most people even know they’re loud eaters.

All I could picture was the gristle between his teeth. He’d wash it down occasionally with a thwiiiiiip of a water bottle. chew, chew, pop, snnnnn, harummm, chew, pop, thwiiip. And all the while, boom boom hiss. I was so happy I only had coffee for breakfast.

Then I learned stuff. Walked back to the car, drove to the grocery store to pick up baby stuff (side rant on this one too… stay tuned!), and was back to daycare by 1:30PM. All told, my 40-minute class took five and a half hours. Tomorrow’s classes start at 9:30, so I should probably just pull an all-nighter.

This little piggy…

I’ve been a vegetarian for 15 years now, and a lazy one at that. I wonder if PETA would frown on me using that word. Probably. Maybe I just “don’t eat meat.” At any rate, it works for me.

I say I’m lazy about it because I enjoy all the things that true vegetarians and vegans try to avoid: Caesar salad (contains anchovy paste), cheese and yogurt (contain rennet — look it up, it’s gross — but it’s so tasty!), Jello (crushed up horse hooves n’ such.. I did boycott this one for a few years), and eggs (but only if they’re an ingredient in something store-bought, because I’m lazy). And I love milk. I would suck it straight from the cow, if this was plausible. Sigh.. I’ve cheated with chicken (no bones, cut up, and “hidden”) but ONLY when I’m pregnant and really craving it. Honey and wool are ok, but leather is a big no-no.

I read that list and wonder if I’m even truly a “non-meateater” or if I should just hang my head in shame and call myself “picky” instead. I don’t like meat. I don’t like the thought of chewing veins and muscles and swallowing them. But I’m not a big advocate for it either. My kids eat meat (well, The Girl does, so far) and love it. I prepare it, and quietly go about my own meal. I couldn’t care less if the person next to me is eating a steak, as long as they say nothing about me not eating it. Live and let eat, I guess.

Fruititarianism is interesting: eating only raw food. Typically a vegan menu (which again, I could never do), it would require a complete lifestyle overhaul, but I would consider it if everything magically came on platters I could pick at . Fresh stuff rots in my fridge. No reason, just lazy. So we eat a lot of canned stuff. And I think if I ever went to jail or Mexico or Mexican jail, and all there was to eat was canned peas and boiled toast, I’d be pretty happy.