AND SO IT BEGINS....

When I was growing up, we didn’t really eat high off the hog.  In fact, at times it was downright sketchy, especially when our fridge broke and we lived out of an Igloo cooler for several months, followed by a second-hand icebox that smelled like 1963.  From what I remember, dinners consisted of the following: chili, stew, spaghetti, Top Ramen, hot dogs, stir fry, fish sticks, McDonalds hamburgers, Burger King Whoppers, twice baked potatoes, pork chops soaked in orange juice (gag), grilled cheese, Kraft Mac & Cheese, taco salad, macaroni salad, cold tacos with ketchup, chimigangas from the gas station, and the occasionally turkey freshly shot off our front lawn (go Dad).  Sides: cold corn from a can, cold carrots from a can, cold green beans from a can and pork and beans.  Every once in a blue moon Mom made soup or eggrolls, but that was pretty much it.

Now don’t get me wrong; we did just fine and here I am healthy and happy today.  But the one side effect of the whole deal was that when I left home, I discovered a world of food that I’d never experienced before and I wanted to try it all.  I’d never had crepes or hot and sour soup, didn’t know what Mongolian barbecue was, and had never set eyes upon a bamboo shoot.  Warm corn was foreign to me and when I discovered naan…well, that’s the day I fell in love. 

At home I didn’t get to be a picky eater.  Whatever was put on my plate was belly bound because darlin’, there were starving children in Africa.  I can still hear my father’s words from the night I had to muscle through a bowl of wild rice soup: “You don’t have to like it, but you’re sure as shit gonna eat it.”  It was in a pink bowl.  A plastic one.  And I hated every freakin’ last spoonful.

But as a young adult out in the world, there was no one there to tell me what I could and couldn’t eat.  Nobody to make me clean my plate or make sure I wasn’t wasting what I had.  I had no restrictions; I was a free agent….and that’s where things went awry.

Fast forward to now.  When I go to the grocery store, my intentions are to be fairly diligent.  I bring a list (which I’m pretty good at sticking to) and bounce through the aisles with the gusto of a seven-year-old boy on Starbucks and crack cocaine.  But as soon as I get home, I’m hungry from all the excitement and the hopped up whiney child in me doesn’t want to wait patiently for orzo to simmer.  So I promise myself that I’ll make my meal tomorrow and, instead, grab a frozen dinner or a sandwich, whichever is quicker.  The next day I think “Naaaa….I’ll make it tomorrow.”  And the next day comes.  And the next day and the next, until half the ingredients have gone bad and I’m no longer interested in what I was going to make in the first place.  This happens more often than I’d care to admit.

That tuna's been chillin' right next to
that box of Tuna Helper for months.

Then yesterday it occurred to me.  I’m a grown-up.  And there ARE starving children in Africa (and everywhere else, for that matter).  Wasting good food is just downright stupid.  SO RIGHT HERE AND NOW, I DO SOLEMNLY SWEAR TO THE FOLLOWING SELF-IMPOSED YET ADVENTUROUS AND POSSIBLY LIFE-CHANGING FOOD CHALLENGE: I’M NOT BUYING GROCERIES EXCEPT BEVERAGES AND CHEERIOS UNTIL I’VE USED WHAT I HAVE.

I’m hoping you’ll follow me on my adventure and maybe help me out as I go along.  This will likely be easy at first, but I'll need whatever backup I can get when I'm down to lasagna noodles, green beans, and peanut butter.  I’d love to hear your ideas and tips, and maybe even snag some recipes as I try to clear my cabinets and learn how to do what I can where I am with what I have.