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Trying to make leftovers less of a drag

Without much success yet, I must admit…

A key part of this budget is planning well enough that your leftovers all get used. No room for waste. We’re doing well with that, but it can get a bit…boring. I had a minor brainstorm a few days ago and turned leftover brown rice into rather good rice pudding. That was cool. I felt smart. See? Look. Rice pudding.

Yes, it does rather look like a bowl of wet maggots. It's not. It's rice pudding. Food photography is hard and I am lazy.

Yes, it does rather look like a bowl of wet maggots. It's not. It's rice pudding. Food photography is hard and I am lazy.

And then it occurred to me that it was about as obvious a use of the leftovers as the potato scramble was, and that I’m just impossibly slow on the uptake. For an allegedly creative person, I have a hard time re-imagining leftover food as anything other than itself. That is, leftover beans and rice get served again as…beans and rice. You’d think I could at least make some tortillas and chop up some tomatoes and call them burritos, yeah?

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Sometimes-Cheap Eats: Casseroles

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As you may or may not know, about a year ago, I published a cassserole cookbook. And for the past five years I’ve been hosting a casserole competition in Brooklyn. Last night, the Fifth Annual Casserole Party descended on Brooklyn Label in Greenpoint where probably too much cheese was consumed (wait—there’s no such thing as too much cheese… anyway).

Many of the contestants went all out for their dishes; when it comes to cooking contests—especially in Brooklyn—you have to, if you want to win. But one theme I heard repeated throughout the night (and not just by those who earn the favor of the judges) was that casseroles are supposed to be cheap. In fact, casseroles were created to be a cheap way to feed lots of people. As I wrote in the introduction to Casserole Crazy:

After the Great Depression and up until the end of World War II, one-dish meals that could be made on the cheap were a necessity for many families surviving on rations, canned goods, bread, and very little meat. Mixing dry bread crumbs with beef or chicken, broth and a canned vegetable was a way to make a family’s meat ration feed more people and last longer.

Casseroles served the same purpose for my family when I was growing up in the 80s and 90s. But at some point (and I’ll take a little bit of the credit, or the blame, for this), casseroles became fashionable and, in turn, more expensive to make. Just have a look at the list of last night’s winners for proof. While I loved the duck confit casserole and the fried chicken dinner with kale bechamel, in general, I love just as much my five-dollar tuna and macaroni concoctions.

What do you think? Do confits and caviar help boost the image of casserole or just make us tuna noodle chefs look bad?



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Introducing the Fifty Bucks a Week Challenge!

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Pink of Perfection's Sarah McColl

Eating well on fifty bucks a week. It sounds simple enough, right? Wrong. Or maybe it is right. To find out, we’ve decided to challenge a few of our foodie friends to see if they can do what we’ve been doing (or at least trying to do) since June 1.

Our first “contestant” in the Fifty Bucks a Week Challenge is the Brooklyn-based Sarah McColl from the lovely little blog Pink of Perfection.

I “met” Sarah after my sister emailed me a link to her website and wrote, “You need to be best friends with this girl.” That was a couple years ago, and though we haven’t actually met in person, we’ve exchanged more than a few gushy emails and (if we’re being honest here) I’ve developed somewhat of a girl crush on her.

Maybe that’s because while Sarah certainly has her fair share of ups and downs (and blogs about them openly and honestly) she has managed to create a seemingly charmed life for herself—a life filled with double chocolate cookies, homemade yogurt made to look easy, dinner parties, strawberry jam she jarred herself, a pink bathroom (jealous!) and what seems like an endless supply fresh flowers, all for surprisingly little money.

Sarah was a recessionista before the word (or the recession) ever existed. And because she’s used to living on a budget, I don’t imagine she’ll have a hard time sticking to the fifty dollar limit, but she admits she does have a few concerns.

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dandelion hunter

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See those purty dandelion greens? They look tasty, yeah? Gonna saute them with olive oil and garlic, eat ‘em with some scrambled eggs. Free eggs from the neighbor’s chickens if I’m standing around looking charming and hungry at the right time. The greens were free, too. They grow all over our (poorly tended, because grass is boring and inedible) yard. I picked them from the spots where I know our dog doesn’t pee. (I know, I know. But really. I’m sure. Very Very Sure. I only picked from right up next to the house in the front, and along the borders of the vegetable garden in the back. Clean. I swear. And totally free.)

Which is to say that I’ve got this $50 per week per adult thing totally licked. Especially since my husband and I are getting another $25 a week in the budget to feed our toddler. Easy. Unless it isn’t. Unless it’s actually impossible to feed this family well on $125 a week. Honestly? I have no idea.

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Will Blog for Peanut Butter

peanut_butterI have a shopping problem. So it is safe to say that spending only $50 a week on food is going to be a challenge for me. You see, I can easily drop that much a day at Whole Foods buying organic peanut butter (I usually put back two jars a week), six different flavors of Kombucha and twelve different kinds of greens—eight of which will inevitably end up in the compost heap when I don’t have time to use them before they go bad.

In fact, that’s exactly what I’d done the day Adam mentioned that he wanted to experiment with the idea of eating well on $50 a week. As soon as he put it out there, I knew I needed to be in on it. Especially after looking at my chronically dwindling bank account.

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Goodbye, Fancy Cheese. Hello, Fifty Bucks a Week.

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It was the cheese that got me.

The weekend before this project was set to launch, my friend Bill came to visit from Chicago. We walked down to Fairway from my place in Red Hook, to pick up some stuff to cook out.
“You want some cheese?”
“Yeah, why not?” I scanned the counter. Too warm out for a triple creme cow. There were some nice ripe little goats, but I didn’t feel like spending that kind of money. I felt like something sheepy and semi-soft. Nevat. You know you’re in trouble when you go straight to the cheeses that sell by the quarter pound. I got the smallest piece that I thought would do: a third of a pound, or about $9 worth. We ate it on rye crackers with roasted almonds and dried apricots, while I made barbecue sauce for the ribs, and Bill put together a German potato salad laced with slab bacon fried to chicharron crispness. Scalloped in layers at once soft, crumbly, tangy, and rich, the cheese was everything I’d hoped. Chances were, it’d be my last taste for a while. Because, dammit, this Brooklyn food yuppie was going to learn to eat on $50/week.

And not just eat, but eat well.

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