Skip to main content

A New Way of Food Spending Leads to (Sort of) Complicated Thoughts Processes

Since the beginning of January, my husband and I have instituted a new way of spending money on food.

We pay cash.

A Mason jar sit atop our bedroom dresser; it contains ones, fives, tens, and twenties.  Anytime we run to the grocery store or to a restaurant for a meal, we use only cash from the jar.  Let me tell you, when there's a limited amount of greenage, you really rethink your choices.

"We're having barbequed chicken sandwiches tonight...hmmm, should I shell out $2 bucks for a package of hamburger buns?  Or shall I thaw out a loaf of homemade sourdough bread in my freezer for the sandwiches (and make another loaf later) instead?"

It's an easy choice, don't you think?  How about this one?

"Should I buy the prepeeled and precut baby carrots for snacking or the cheaper bagged carrots, which I will have to peel and cut myself?"

Yeah, it's a no-brainer to me, too.  I'll take what's behind door number two.

But, as always, there's a fine line to walk.  In the case of the carrots, I'd rather not pay more for the convenience of prepeeled and cut vegetable...choosing instead to do it myself. 

However, many other aisles of the grocery store contain items that forfeit taste and nutrition for price.  Too many for my level of comfort...that's why I now bake my own bread.  I did not want bread that contained high fructose corn syrup or other artificial, processed ingredients...but I chafed at paying over $3 a loaf for it.  Especially when, for right around $2, there's a nice-sized loaf of sturdy (albeit highly processed) sandwich bread readily available.  Economically speaking, it would have been better to purchase the store brand "wheat" bread for the six people in my family.

But, psychologically, mentally, ethically, morally?  The homemade bread is the way to go.  I know what goes in it...about five ingredients, really, and I can pronounce them all.

Other choices I make require similar arduous thought: I have all the ingredients to make chocolate chip cookies...except chocolate chips.  But, how badly do I *really* want to spend at least $2 on choc chips??  While my family will enjoy the end result, the bathroom scale will eventually reflect that I too enjoyed them more than I ought to have.  Which leaves me feeling guilty and in the end, I SHOULD HAVE JUST NOT MADE THEM!

Yeah, sometimes, the food purchase choices are easy-peasy...and sometimes they are quite complex and usually end up with my own self-castigation.  But, this is good, right?  A little scolding now and then is relished by the wisest men.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

From Government Regulations to Chicken

So, I really wanted tonight's post to be whippy and biting and highly intelligent...and I've even got the perfect topic - government wine regulations: Europe vs. the US (subtitle: European Governments Seem to Trust Their Citizens A Whole Lot More The US, Otherwise Why Don't French, et al., Wine Labels Have the Surgeon General's "Pregnant Women Should Not Drink This/This Beverage Impairs Your Brain" Warning). But, I realized that to begin a post like that, I should probably know the answer to the question, yes?  Why do American wine labels include the warning, when, I don't know, isn't just common sense?  A quick search of this very query lands me at Wikipedia, which is good enough for a rude overview, but nothing that indicates why it's a law in the first place. Hence, more reading is required.  I hope to get to it soon.  It's almost August, two-thirds of this year is nearly gone, and sometimes I feel as I am moving very, very quickly along...

In Which I Suspect I Have Latent Tendencies...Much Like The Hulk, Or Similar

I find in most normally functioning families, the members have a distinguishing role or legacy or skill of some kind. Like, he's the smart one.  Or, he's the religious one.  Or...she's the glue that helps the fam together.  Or, she's the savvy one, so she's the Power of Attorney. In my family, that system went something like this: My dad was The Dad.  Cantankerous, crotchety, and especially tight with daughters' curfew times.  Also, not a fan of driving in Big Cities. My mom was the long-suffering, patient, reserved one. My brother was the baby, the one who got away with murder, the namesake, and also, Frosty Hoarder. Me?  My legacy?  The Ruiner of Remote Controls.  No lie.  Although I've repressed the memories, my parents claim I destroyed at least two remotes in my tenure as Child Under The Roof.  Remote #1: milk spillage; Remote #2: applesauce spillage. So, now you see why my younger brother was the favorite. Anyway, t...

And Now, A Literacy Moment...

Brought to you by the sponsors of Mark Twain Literacy Consortium...because after all, "a man who chooses not to read is no better than one who can't." First day back to school/work after ten+ days off.  Urgh.  You all know how that is, right?  Meh. So let's talk about books today, then.  On these long breaks, I never read as much as I think I will...and I'm not sure why that is.  Well, okay, I'm fairly sure I know why, and it includes doing something in the kitchen, working on something for the Winery or school, playing those damn free 1-hour demo Hidden Object games at www.bigfishgames.com, doing logic puzzles, or watching The Walking Dead or Downton Abbey or Sherlock. Ugh.  How did you guys do that?  Get me to confess all that, eh? Anyway, I read: Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman.  I have read at least three other books by this author, which, for me, is the only criteria needed to be placed on my Favorite Authors List....