Revised Edition: Emerging from the depression, temper tantrum over, may cooler heads prevail. Amen.

Dear M~,

Food has lately been a fraught issue in our household, hence my long delay in writing. Inflation has been sneaking up on us, and suddenly the past 3 months our grocery bills were almost laughably high. Did I accidentally buy Humboldt Fog and wild scallops and Macallan? Am I sleep-shopping? No, same old same old, just skyrocketing prices. (And I say “inflation” with an eye roll–Costco has pocketed $90 billion in profits since 2020. That doesn’t happen when it’s actually “inflation.”) Anyway, this food situation lead to fights over money, which are second only to fights about mothers in terms of unpleasantness. We audited our receipts (no change, at all, in like a decade, in what we eat); scoured the fridge for pricey frills (the most expensive thing in there is definitely the probiotics); did our usual “only rice and beans” vow (as yet unfulfilled)…I read about a dozen blogs and Reddit posts about saving money on groceries, and a theme I kept seeing was, “Well, we are losing weight!” Which, Jesus. (I mean, the “meals” they outline I would categorize as snacks, so no surprise.) We eventually surrendered to, “Oh well, this is how it is, so be it, economize elsewhere.” Though we did cease almost all restaurant dining. (I can definitely make those $50 waffle breakfasts better at home.)

But the situation prompted me to pick up How to Cook a Wolf for the third or fourth time. I find this book a joy to read, though the topic is grim (and her meals oddly gourmet for someone living with rationing–it seems she never jettisoned wine and butter from her cart!). It also makes me feel connected to generations of women who have marched into the market, eyes sharp for deals, running calculations all the while, “Is that whole fish the best price? How much of it is bones? Is canned fruit actually thrifty? Seems like you’re paying for a lot of juice…” (I also adore that she has a chapter on feeding pets–our cats, with their respective prescription diets, cost more than Great Danes to feed.) I particularly vibe with this passage from Fisher, and may stick it on my fridge: “You can still live with grace and wisdom, thanks partly to the many people who write about how to do it and perhaps talk overmuch about riboflavin and economy [Note: Guilty as charged!], and partly to your own innate sense of what you must do with the resources you have, to keep the wolf from snuffing too heavily through the keyhole.”

We stopped fighting, and now that I’m sort of emerging from a depression I’m slowly rediscovering the enjoyment I normally find in food and cooking. I’m also finding ways to make economizing into a game or a puzzle, and having some success. A fun one is the “pantry challenge”–I reached far into the back of a cupboard and found a dusty jar of preserved lemons. So I made a tagine from dried chickpeas I’d had for a while, plus a random array of wilty veggies and canned tomatoes. I also found popcorn kernels and some ancient split peas, so those projects are next (probably not combined!). I also found an open bag of chickpea flour that I’m working on. Made socca, and while it was very filling, I can’t say I’m a fan. At any rate, I’m suddenly doing a lot more cooking, exploring new territory, and that, I know, will bring me out of my depression in time. And help me save a buck to boot.

Love, C.