Day Three: My food. My precious.

Tuesday, Day 3:
Went to sleep thinking about food. Woke up thinking about food. When we talk about food insecurity, I think this is what we mean. And this is how I feel about my precious stockpile:



I don’t think I realized how hard it would be to balance your body’s desires, needs, and your own appetite within these budget constraints. I also thought it would be easy to eat healthy, but my diet these past days has been uneven and lacking. I forget that when I am preparing my lunch for school or work, I have the benefit of oils, spices, salsa, mustard, nuts, seeds, and any type of other flair or flavor. Every day I can choose anything I’ve stocked up in my cabinets, because I have enough flexible cash to shop and spend what I want. I can buy coffee if I want, and I can share ice cream with friends. But on public assistance, I can only shop at food stores, and I don’t have the luxury of stocking up. I can play the hunger challenge as a game, knowing full well I can “cheat” and steal a bite of something else in my house. Today, that all ends. The stress of what it would feel like to be so limited and still trying to make good choices is starting to hit me.

In this challenge, I have 3 days and 3 dollars left. Shortly after a breakfast of cheerios with apple pieces, toast with banana slices, and yogurt, I headed out to do errands and work out at the gym, but was forced to come home to eat rather than staying out and about and simply buying a snack.

At the First Presbyterian shelter where my friends and I operate a weekly nursing clinic, we have a client who is highly athletic, working out for an hour or more every day at the YMCA. He is a newly homeless young guy who has been working hard and eating well his whole life, and now is left with the fatty, strange, or mismatched food he can get for free at the city's shelters. Because he runs and works out so much, he cannot keep weight on, but also worries about the poor nutritional content of what he is eating. We are able to supply multivitamins, but cannot fix his situation. While the food at the First Presbyterian shelter is delicious, and I often share a plate with the other volunteers, we are often stuck trying to explain to our diabetic or hypertensive clients about the best food choices, knowing that they will take a salty or sugary option over nothing, as any person would do. One of our lead nurses last week went through the food line with a diabetic client, showing him to focus on protein and complex carbs, and skip the white rice and lemonade. While we don't always have great options, we were trying to help him see the better options.

Last Wednesday, several of us had been sampling the rice with spicy chicken and vietnamese glass noodle salad, and had left half of our food on the counter, forgotten. After we served one of our clients, he motioned me out into the hall and quietly asked if he could have our leftovers. I felt horrible that we had brought in food and then carelessly wasted it, but I said of course, and assured him the fork was still clean. Felt like a jerk nonetheless.

Lunch: Tuna mixed with plain yogurt and cut up apple pieces, cucumbers, salt, and pepper, on bread toasted with cheese and spinach. White rice. Side of sweet potato fries and baby carrots. Milk. Finally—this is a lunch.

Mid-afternoon caffeine withdrawal headache hit again. Luckily I had my stash of diet soda. Wish I had the foresight to purchase black tea or instant coffee, but can’t spend the tiny I have remaining. Might sell my secondborn if this bottle runs dry.

I had sort of been hoping that I would be invited out to a bar or restaurant during this challenge so I could try and make it through the social event without spending any money. (“Oh, nothing for me, I just ate… I’m not drinking this month…. Just ice water, I’m the designated driver on the bus today….”) Most of my friends are also grad students, so cheapness is the name of the game when we’re out, but what if even $4 for happy hour or an iced coffee was out of my reach? How would I still be able to socialize without feeling awkward?

I had already planned to have dinner tonight with my parents and sister, but now was stuck since I couldn’t accept food. I explained the situation and we agreed to eat parallel meals. I brought the rest of my turkey and made burgers again, with breadcrumbs, salt, pepper, and fresh basil. My family was full of suggestions on what I should have bought—things with coupons, half-boxes of eggs, bulk spices at Fred Meyer, organic snacks from Grocery Outlet. Of course, I had done none of these things, and with 3 dollars to my name, couldn’t redo it. They were all pretty sure the Hunger Challenge would be a breeze, until I said they couldn’t use stockpile in their cupboard, not even oil or spice or flour. Start at ground zero, maybe try to do it without a kitchen. Naively, they still thought they could do it in style, and for cheaper than the allotment, so I now raise the challenge to them.

My mom unknowingly taunted me by making my favorite meal in the world, homemade mac and cheese. My burger, condiment-free, now was half as appealing but I was still able to share a meal, deciding it was okay to trade a bite of mac for a bite of turkey in the name of bartering.

And then my dad had to go and make his famous Uncle Seth’s homemade cookies… with PINK frosting! Just one bite for an otherwise spend-free and cheat-free day.

Money spent today: $0
Running total: $32.10
Nutrition eval: Better

Day Two: Lettuce feed you

Monday:

A repeat breakfast of Cheerios with a banana. Wish I had bought oatmeal or eggs. Excited to be up and about so early on my first day of spring break, I figured I’d easily be able to skip my morning coffee habit. Out in the chilly March sunshine, I walked to the closest vegetable market in the area, McPherson’s Produce, a 2.5 mile jaunt roundtrip. Because they buy overstock produce from wholesalers, the prices are far lower than at grocery stores, though it's always a gamble if they will have what you need. With my dwindling envelope of cash in hand, I scored a cucumber ($0.50), 3 Braeburn apples ($2.20), one bunch of spinach ($1.49), 1 large yam ($0.86), grapes ($1.99), and one bunch of fresh basil to spice up my pasta ($0.49). Yes, this was going well.

In the interest of time, I drove to my nearest two grocery stores, Red Apple and Safeway. Comparing prices on basic items, I noticed that Red Apple often charged a dollar or two more on simple items such as pasta, canned soups, dairy products, and frozen items. Though I often shop at Red Apple because it’s on my bus line to Seattle U, I was shocked at how much more I had been paying for quick items. Located at the main Beacon Hill intersection, it services a diverse, international population, many of them low-income, and both customers in front of me brandished EBT cards. Nearby, there were also a handful of mini-marts (Mexican, Vietnamese, Chinese, to name only a few) that I would sample later in the week. I decided to do my shopping at the next closest store, Safeway, where the prices were far lower, with more clearance items. Driving back, I accidentally cheated by mindlessly eating from a box of Fig Newmans bought in the stressful days of finals week.

We continued working on the construction project, rushing back and forth to the garage and basement with drills and saws. Sliced up an apple for a snack, but found it mushy and completely unappealing. Wish I had shelled out for the Honeycrisp. By noon the paint fumes had given me a headache. Tried to have a sandwich (whole wheat bread, $1.99) for lunch, but the dry tuna ($0.79/can) (no mayo) combo did not sound appealing, either. Ate grapes and cubes of tofu ($0.99) and some lowfat colby cheese ($0.99 on manager's special). All the exciting vegetables I had purchased were useless, with no time to prepare them. Wish I had some peanut butter.

By 1pm I was ready to sell my firstborn for a latte or Coke or anything with caffeine.

2pm: Firstborn sold for the price of one bottle of Diet Dr. Pepper ($1.69). Promised I would quit caffeine, starting next week. I try to avoid soda because I think it is evil and addicting and can see myself inadvertently becoming a dentist's worst nightmare without a little self-control. But desperate times...

3pm: Project finished, headache gone, now starving, nothing I purchased looked appetizing. Can't believe I wasted almost 2 bucks on soda.

3:15pm: Prepared my emergency box of mac and cheese ($0.79) with spinach.

4pm: Hungry again. Found myself wandering the kitchen looking at food I can’t eat and thinking about snacks I want to buy. Chopped up basil and added with salt to plain yogurt ($1.50 on 50% manager’s special) as a dip for cucumbers and baby carrots ($1.79). My housemate was making pizza and cookies. Took ultimate willpower not to indulge in a taste of batter.

5pm: Had to run out on errands with the boyfriend. The night got later and I realized we wouldn’t be able to hop out for food on my stamp money. Even when I think I am eating for cheap at Ethiopian, sushi, or pho restaurants, I’m still paying in cash—something I wouldn’t be able to do on public assistance. Lounging in Home Depot while he found an exponentially increasing number of treasures for his house (note: actual need for items purchased at home stores inversely related to amount of time spent in store), I looked through my own blog entries on my phone. Realized I’ve been doing physical labor for 2 days and eating little besides cereal and simple carbs. Aha. The nurse in me is seeing a connection to my grumpy mood. Snacked on store-brand tortilla chips ($1.99) to stave off hunger until we actually had food to cook.

Dinner: Made some turkey burgers (extra lean, 50% off manager’s special, $3.50)—no seasoning or eggs to spice them up, but still alright. Cucumbers and carrots on the side and baked sweet potato fries (okay, okay, I cheated and drizzled on olive oil so I wouldn’t ruin them for everyone else.)

Dessert: Blueberry organic greek nonfat yogurt ($0.40, 50% on manager’s special).

Distance commuted: 2 miles on foot, 10+ miles in car

Today’s purchases: $18.40 + evil Dr. Pepper = $20.10

Running total: 18.10 + 12.00 = $32.10

Nutrition evaluation: Poor

Hope I am stocked up with leftovers and food I will want to eat for 3 more days. Besides one lonely Fig Newman and a splash of oil, I barely cheated today—but where did all the money go? I stashed away my soda for another emergency and hid my leftovers in the back of the fridge where no one could touch it. Huddled my precious produce on a corner of the counter and thought about what I would be able to eat tomorrow.

Day One: No dessert in the food desert

Hunger Challenge, Take One:

Rolled out of bed early Sunday morning, ready to start the Hunger Challenge. Promptly forgot about it until I had already put a batch of banana bread in the oven, with ingredients I clearly could not afford on my 5-day food stamp budget. Figured nothing really counts before 9am, and someone had to taste the batter and the outcome, right? And someone had to finish their cheater’s cup of tea that they had not purchased with HC funds. Left the rest of the loaf for my housemates.

Hunger Challenge, Take Two:

Sunday, 9am: Cheerios ($1.99/box) with milk ($1.99/ half gallon) and 1 banana ($0.69/ lb, $1.50 for small bunch).

Cheater’s snack: Chocolate snagged from my apocalyptic stash as more of a compulsion than a willful action. Three times. Will add to my bill. Darnit.

After a half-day of hanging drywall and other house construction projects, I made some bowtie pasta ($0.99/box) with tomatoes ($0.85) and spinach ($1.49/bunch), only to realize I hadn’t purchased any seasonings or interesting vegetables with which to season it, nor oil, butter, cheese, or any time of protein. Result: Bland and disappointing. After several more hours of construction work with nothing to eat but my horrible pasta and some grapes, I needed something for dinner. On a rainy Sunday afternoon, with few buses running, and no grocery store in a mile radius, my best option was a discount Japanese mini-market (Maruta) a few blocks away in Georgetown. We jetted over just after 5pm for their ½ off deal on all bento boxes, and came back for a dinner of California rolls, including wasabi and soy sauce ($1.50). Heaven for this cheap sushi queen.

Four more hours of drywalling later, exhausted and covered in dust, I picked through my pasta and meager food selection at midnight and went to bed disappointed. (And grumpy without any dessert!) Tomorrow I would have a better plan.

Distance commuted for food: Less than 1 mile
Running total spent: $10.50 + cheater's chocolate= $12.00

Foot Popcorn and Other Challenges

The Hunger Challenge: eat for $7/day for a week, as if you are receiving food stamp benefits. Easy, I thought. I’m frugal, I’m mostly vegetarian, and I’ve been a student or volunteer more often than a person with an income. Ha! When do I ever eat for more than $7 per day? (Morning coffee trips and happy hour bar visits excluded.) I have come to believe that sell-by dates are really just suggestions (suggesting that you should buy it for 50% off). If it smells fine, it is fine. I can (and will) eat off anyone else’s plate at the table—germs make you stronger. I’ve shared many a meal sitting cross-legged on the floor with my students in the slums of Cambodia and never had any GI issues, and have eaten at more suspicious food stands in foreign countries than I care to remember. Here in the land of Big Brother FDA, I’m sure that “expired” yogurt and a little bit of foot popcorn* is not going to do me in. Half price? Free? Count me in.

As it turns out… I’m less frugal than I thought. Last week alone, my “just this one treat for final exams” coffee and snack bill was $30, on top of $40 in groceries, $40 at restaurants and bars, plus any other food I might have snagged from or shared with friends. I love grocery shopping, but didn’t think I was really buying that much food. So I did some inventory of my cupboards. I apparently am stocking up for the cereal, chocolate, and pasta apocalypse. Whoops. Maybe I’m less ready than I thought.

Back to basics: I figured I would start with an envelope of $35 and just buy a few essentials at my nearest grocery store, Safeway. Here we go.

United Way ground rules:

*$7/ day for 5 days.

*No free samples (not even from Costco) or food from friends and family.

*No using any spices, condiments, or other extra ingredients except salt/pepper.

*Eat 3 meals a day, and include fresh produce and protein sources each day.

My ground rules:

*Must shop at stores in walking distance or on normal bus routes.

*Maximize healthy cooked meals. Minimize packaged meals and snacks.

*No beverages allowed besides what is purchased for the HC. 

* No foot popcorn or garbage pizza unless specifically purchased for the HC.

*No cheating.