Less planning, more merriment

For me, the scariest aspect of the Lenten Experiment is not the frugality but the planning. I like to make things up as I go along. I don't like keeping records and figuring out the price of everything.

I'm solving the bookkeeping problem by keeping track of grocery purchases but not trying to price each meal, which would be impossibly complex.

And I've decided to solve the meal planning problem by reverting to my usual method of cooking: looking at what I already have or what is favorably priced in the grocery store, and then imagining what goes well together. I often do this as I cook, after I write my daily blogpost, so I'm going to stop appending "daily bread" summaries announcing what we are going to have for dinner. Heck, it's only 11:00 a.m. How do I know?

But I do want to keep track--what's an experiment without data?--so instead I'll post yesterday's menu, beginning tomorrow. (This approach has the added advantage of not giving Mr Neff or dinner guests advance information about dinner. I don't want to alarm anybody.)

Meanwhile, here's a report from the front. Janet and Ken Tkachuck, excellent cooks both, describe their first couple of days of intentionally frugal eating:

[We] are experimenting with the frugal menu plan but are not giving up meat or wine. The first night we had chicken legs sautéed with onions, sweet peppers, and zucchini and cilantro, on a bed of couscous. The meal came to $6.00, and with a $4.99 bottle, we stayed under budget. Our breakfasts and lunches, like yours, cost pennies. Last night was stir fry with vegetarian scallops, even cheaper. How we're going to work tonight into the scheme I'm not sure. We're sallying forth with our friend Don to a new cheap eats BYOB in Andersonville (Antica Pizzeria, featuring a wood burning pizza oven). ... We'll ask Tetzel to grant us an indulgence for this one night. Or amortize the extra cost over the next week. Cheating already.

No doubt Tetzel will approve, but then so will his archenemy Martin Luther, who wrote to a friend:

Whenever the devil pesters you with these thoughts, at once seek out the company of men, drink more, joke and jest, or engage in some other form of merriment. Sometimes it is necessary to drink a little more, play, jest, or even commit some sin in defiance and contempt of the devil in order not to give him an opportunity to make us scrupulous about trifles.

Amen, Dr. Luther.

Our daily bread - lunches

To follow up on yesterday's blog about our boring breakfasts, I shall briefly describe our repetitious lunches.

Mr Neff usually packs a sandwich--he's on a peanut-butter-and-jelly kick this year--and a tub of yogurt and fruit (grapes, an orange, or a pear). Sometimes lunch is ordered in so the staff can keep right on working. Pizza and outsized sub sandwiches are popular. And sometimes he goes to a restaurant. Favorite: India Palace's buffet.

Sometimes I lunch with other ladies either at home or in a restaurant, but most of the time I eat one of three meals at home: either a sandwich and a piece of fruit, or two slices of bread spread with peanut or almond butter and topped with applesauce, or a bowl of cereal and milk topped with berries. I sometimes finish with a handful of peanuts. And then I have a cup of tea.

Why do I feel like I'm on a talk show, divulging seedy secrets?

Hey, go ahead and laugh ... but these odd little breakfasts and lunches are providing us each with two or three servings of fruit, two or three servings of whole grains, a serving or two from the milk group, protein from nuts--and, equally important, we like them.

Really good whole wheat bread helps.


I've adapted a recipe from Mark Bittman's wonderful How to Cook Everything, though he would no longer recognize it and might even disown it:

In your food processor, bzzzz these ingredients for a few seconds to blend:

• 1 lb (about 3.5 c) white whole wheat flour (you can get this at Trader Joe's: it's real whole wheat, but doesn't seem as serious)
• 1.5 t active dry yeast
• 2 t salt
• 1/4 c brown sugar
• 2-3 T butter

Through the feeder tube, add 10-11 oz warm tap water while food processor is spinning. You want the dough to form into a soft ball, still a little sticky, but able to be picked up if you oil your hands. If you can pick it up really easily with unoiled hands, you probably didn't add enough water and your bread will be hard. If it turns into a sloppy muck, you need to add more flour and slow down on the water next time.

Put a little olive or canola oil in a pottery bowl, take the dough out of the food processor, knead it 20-30 times, and put it in the bowl. Turn it so all the dough gets oiled. Cover the bowl with a damp dishtowel (run a clean one under hot water and then wring out all the water you can) and put it in a warm place to rise for two hours. If the day is cold, I turn on my oven for just a minute, then turn it off and let the bread rise in there.

When the bread has doubled, punch it down and then shape into a loaf (if you haven't done this before, you can either experiment or you can buy Bittman's fine book and learn how he does it) and put it in a 9 x 5 loaf pan (preferably metal and nonstick; butter it anyway and shake some corn meal on the bottom and sides, if you don't want to risk permanently embedding the bread in it). Cover the pan loosely with the dishtowel and let the dough rise again for an hour.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Bake the bread for about 45 minutes. Immediately after baking, remove it from the pan (so it doesn't stick) and let it cool on a wire rack before slicing.

Once you've done this a couple of times, you'll be able to throw the dough together and start it rising in less than 10 minutes. If you want, you can cover it with plastic wrap instead of a towel and let it rise in the refrigerator overnight. Take it out when you get up, punch it down, let it rest and warm up for half an hour or so, and then shape it into a loaf and take it from there.

In an excellent loaf of home-made whole wheat bread, virtue and pleasure are one.

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Daily bread Breakfast and lunch--the usual. Dinner--whole wheat spaghetti, tomato sauce, parmesan cheese, vegetarian meat balls, fresh spinach with olive oil and garlic and lemon juice, berries.

Our daily bread - breakfasts

Throughout Lent, I'll be posting recipes, menu summaries, and Notes from the Frugal Side. I'm not going to list every mouthful I take, though, because I would lose all my faithful readers. Suffice it to say that my breakfasts and lunches are nearly always repetitious, boring, nourishing, and--to me--satisfying. They will look like Lenten penance to some, but I always eat that way. It's easier than thinking, planning, confecting, and cleaning up after a varied meal.

Mr Neff and I place a very high value on eating dinner together, at the dining table, on a tablecloth or at least place mats, and no TV on. Dinner hour is a time to share and bond. It's as important now that we're empty-nesters as it was when the kids were at home. Without shared dinners, our primary means of communication would be e-mail. Which, as I've pointed out many times, is a very Protestant means of communication--all word, no real presence.

At breakfast, by contrast, if we show up in the kitchen at the same time, one of us apologizes.

My usual breakfast is a couple of tablespoons of ground flaxseed (cheap at Trader Joe's) mixed into 1/2 cup plain yogurt and topped with a sliced banana. When I'm feeling festive, I sprinkle lots of cinnamon on it all. I also drink a large mug of English breakfast tea with milk.

Mr Neff's usual breakfast is a smoothie. He used to make it in the blender, but now he has one of those little hand blender things that's lots harder to operate and therefore more amusing to the masculine mind, like driving a stick shift. Here's what he puts in his smoothie:

• 8 ounces orange juice
• 2 Tablespoons flaxseed
• 1/3 cup raw oatmeal
• 1/2 cup cottage cheese
• 2 generous spoonfuls plain yogurt
• 1 banana
• 1/2 cup frozen fruit--berries, mango, whatever (cheap at Aldi)

David also drinks a large mug of coffee and milk.

He thinks that some mornings during Lent, he will instead have a bowl of oatmeal with milk and a banana.

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Daily bread
Breakfast and lunch--the usual for me; Mr Neff had a business lunch. I'll reveal our typical lunch habits tomorrow.
Dinner--broiled salmon filets (cheap at Aldi), leftover sweet potatoes and onions, leftover brussels sprouts and pecans, frozen peas. Dessert will be blackberries (cheap at Trader Joe's).

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Housekeeping hint
If your freezer needs cleaning but you can't bear to start, try turning an opened bag of frozen peas upside down on the top shelf and listening as the peas ping from shelf to shelf, some settling on each level, some streaming out the bottom onto the floor for little dogs to gather, some rolling under the refrigerator or back behind the shelves where mechanical parts grind away in darkness.

Hey, it worked for me.

Ash Wednesday: The Lenten Experiment begins

Want to make God laugh? Tell him your plans.

My plan

• Get up at 5.45 for 6.30 Mass with imposition of ashes.
• Come home, eat a light breakfast, and spend some time online with the Days of Deepening Friendship Lenten retreat by Vinita Hampton Wright.
• Spend the rest of the morning attending an ongoing church history class at St. Michael parish.
• Eat a light lunch (at my age I am not required to fast on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday, as younger people are, and I figured I'd function better if fueled).
• Try to stay calm and pleasant while explaining to a furnace repair company that they ripped me off last weekend and should really do something about it.
• Blog. Include a Lenten reading or two from Scripture, reflect on my experience so far, log our daily bread.
  
• Eat a light supper.
• Read.

Reality

• Got up at 3.00 with a serious headache. Showered, washed hair, ate a few bites of yogurt and flax seed, lost same repeatedly.
• Though unaware that one of today's readings has to do with fasting, weeping, and mourning (Joel 2.12), did all three continuously for about five hours as headache went from bad to evil.
  
• Spent rest of morning and early afternoon first at Danada Convenient Care and then at the ER at CDH. Noticed at one point that the piped-in music was "Rescue Me." Concurred.
• After two doctors and several nurses examined me and I had a CBC, a CT scan, two anti-nausea drugs and two powerful narcotics, I no longer felt pain. I suspected, however, that I was living in a different galaxy.
• CBC and CT scan were both normal. Was released mid afternoon with a diagnosis of "nonspecific headache: Your exam shows your headache does not have any specific cause."
  
• Ate a light breakfast, drank tea, went to bed.

Reflection
Mr Neff, aka Saint David, spent the day with and for me, driving me from place to place, answering medical and financial questions, picking up prescriptions, and just being here. On this Ash Wednesday we both felt very deeply that we are dust, and to dust we shall return.

I am in love with that man.

Am hoping to be lively dust tomorrow. Notice I said hoping, not planning. "Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God" (Matthew 4.7).

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Daily bread
Breakfast--let's not go there.
Lunch--oatmeal, flaxseed, honey, plain yogurt, a few blueberries, tea with milk and honey
Dinner--Mr Neff is at a banquet (CTI has never figured out the liturgical calendar). I'm thinking a small bowl of oat squares and maybe some whole wheat bread with almond butter and applesauce. More tea.

What we're going to do, and why it's not especially noble

I'm so ready for spring, so unready for Lent. Who came up with this idea of giving up things, anyway?

But yes. We are going to do it--try, that is, to keep our food budget under $12/day, starting tomorrow.

We will serve wine, but only when sharing a meal with others. We will eat in restaurants as required--which means that Mr Neff will continue to do business occasionally over meals. And I will use some items that are already in the pantry--flour, sugar, oatmeal, tea, spices, etc.

However, since we are trying to approximate a food-stamp budget, I will report wine and restaurant expenditures on this blog. You may ridicule or shame me if they seem excessive. I may also note pantry-cheating, but I don't plan to "pay tithe of mint and anise and cummin" (Matthew 23.23). I figure that if I use January's flour in March, I'll probably be using March's flour in May, and it will all even out.

And I'm planning to forget the whole experiment for a week in March when we have a family reunion and celebrate our anniversary.

It won't be so bad, I tell myself. As I discovered last week, my normal food budget is depressingly close to my Lenten budget anyway; at least it was this month as I've been thinking about the Lenten Experiment. A few more beans, a little less wine, an absence of pignoli and almond butter--this is not suffering.

Last month I offered 10 reasons to try the $6/day food experiment. In rereading them, I'd like to take issue with #8: "You would like to show solidarity with the poor." I'm all for showing solidarity with the poor, but this experiment is not going to do it. "If you really want to know how it feels to be poor," said a friend of mine as we ate at a lovely Indian restaurant on Sunday, "first come clean my house for $2/hour, then clean three or four other houses, and then go home and try to cook a meal for your family for less than $12."

If I were poor, I wouldn't have time to cook meals from scratch, compare prices in different stores, clip coupons, collect recipes, or beg friends (that would be you) to give me ideas for thrifty meals.

If I were poor, another friend pointed out, there probably wouldn't be an Aldi's or a Trader Joe's in my neighborhood, let alone within walking distance. There might not even be a major grocery store nearby. I'd probably have to shop at convenience stores and small neighborhood shops, which often cost more than the chains and have much less variety to choose from.

If I were poor and uneducated, I might not realize what foods I need or what foods I should avoid. I might not be skilled at budgeting, and I wouldn't have a PC and Excel to help me keep track of expenses.

If I were poor, I probably wouldn't have all of the following: a large refrigerator with plenty of freezer space, a gas stove, a microwave oven, a dishwasher, a slow cooker, plenty of cupboards, and lots of pots and pans to make food storage and preparation easy. Nor would I have attractive plates, glasses, flatware, and tablecloths to make even the simplest fare seem like a feast.

Most of all, if I were poor, this would be no experiment. Cheap eats would be my life. No week off in March. No wine when friends gather (unless, of course, I took my daughter's suggestion and traded groceries for Mad Dog 20/20). No well-stocked pantry. No business lunches. No promise of release on Easter Sunday.

Eating cheaply for a few weeks will be a fine discipline. It will not be a sacrifice. If you join us for Lent or just for a week, let me know how it goes.

The frugal couple considers wine, part 4

Yesterday I went to Binny's and picked up the 2006 Vinos Sin Ley M4 Bullas that Roger recommended. Usual price, $11.99 to $15.99. Binny's sale price: $5.99. Not a beginner's wine--one blogger describes it as "a dark, bitter, catalonian anarchist"--but one with enough guts to stand up to red meat yet enough complexity to be enjoyed on its own.

Moral: It is possible to get a good house wine for $5.99 or less if you--or your friends--know where to find the bargains.

If, however, you are looking for something in the $6.99 to $9.99 range, here are a few suggestions from Estelle, LeAnn, Ron, and me. Note: Wine prices can vary by several dollars from store to store, and you may have to try several sources to find the under-$10 price. We're from the Chicago suburbs, but since these stores are chains, I'm assuming you can find similar deals just about everywhere in the U.S.

Whites
Clos du Bois Chardonnay, Costco
Clean Slate Riesling, Binny's, Sam's Wines
Monkey Bay Sauvignon Blanc, Binny's (now on sale for $8.99)

Reds
Folie à Deux "Menage à Trois" blend, SavWay, Binny's, Target
Columbia Crest Grand Estates Cabernet Sauvignon, Binny's (now on sale for $7.99)
Rex Goliath Cabernet Sauvignon, Binny's, Sam's Wines
Alamos Malbec, Fresh Market, Binny's, Sam's Wines
Tin Roof Merlot, Whole Foods, Sam's Wines
Bogle Petite Syrah, Costco, Fresh Market
Gnarly Head Zinfandel, Binny's, Sam's Wines

For the Wall Street Journal's wine writers, a budget wine's price ranges from $10 to $16, more or less. (Wall Street, it will be remembered, is in New York, where only 13.9% of metro area housing is affordable--up from 5.1% two years ago. Perhaps we define "budget" differently in Chicago.) If you're looking for wines in that price range, check out "Buying Wine on a Dime" by David Kesmodel, along with "Budget Wines," an annotated list of 25 under-$16 wines recommended by five experts.

The garage door just went up, and the dogs ran downstairs. Sounds like it's time to stop typing and start tasting.

Goody Two Shoes makes a troubling discovery

Being good is so depressing.

Several years ago my cardiologist, having determined that my heart is poorly constructed, told me,

The good news is, you don't smoke, so the situation isn't as bad as it could be.

The bad news is, you don't smoke, so there's nothing you can stop doing to make the situation better.

I felt like I feel when I read articles telling me I can look years younger! stop being tired! adequately fund my retirement!

Hey, I'm doing all the things they recommend and I still have baggy skin and graying hairs, still feel pooped by mid-afternoon, and still am convinced I'm going to spend my retirement selling apples on the street corner (as are you, my friends--so perhaps we can find a way to make it entertaining).

This all leads up to today's discovery about the Lenten Experiment.

As I mentioned in a previous post, grocery shopping has become an occasion of existential angst: today I can buy these blackberries, but next week they will be a luxury. And that quart of peppermint ice cream from Oberweis... such hedonistic extravagance will have to go underground until Easter.

On the other hand, after six frugal weeks I will perhaps be better equipped to deal with our reduced household budget.

With just a week until D (for Deprivation) Day, I decided I needed to know exactly how much I'm spending on food now. If I'm going to be frugal, I thought, I might as well define my goals. Will I need to cut expenses in half? By one-third? Maybe by only 10 percent?

I still have receipts for everything I've purchased during the last four weeks, so I hauled them out and totaled up food, wine, and restaurant expenses. According to the USDA's Thrifty Plan, we should be able to eat adequately for $342.60 a month. According to my simplified approach of $6/day per adult, we'd have had $336 to spend for that four-week period.

So what did we actually spend on food eaten at home? Drumroll . . . $336.14.

Doggone it, we're already eating on a food-stamp budget.

The good news is, it looks like we'll be enjoying Lent more than I thought possible.

The bad news is, now how are we going to save more money?

Well, we can cut back on wine. I didn't include that in my food total, and I think I won't tell you how much we spent. But some of it was for hostess gifts, and some of it was for Valentine's Day (we ate at home).

And we can cut back on meals out, which I also totaled separately . . . but there were only two.

And really, we can shop more carefully in other areas too--at least I hope we can--because I'd like to have guests more often, eat heartily and well, and still stay within the budget.

Anyone up for a potluck?

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P.S. This just isn't possible. I think it's a case of the observer effect. All month I've been thinking about the Lenten Experiment, so I've been terribly aware of food prices. OK, so I've been good for four weeks. Does this mean I have only two weeks to go?