by Slow Food Rhode Island chapter leader Amy McCoy
There’s much to love about Slow Food – the story of its inception, Carlo Petrini and his band of hungry activists, doling out pasta at Rome’s Spanish Steps in protest of fast food (can’t you just see yourself, walking down the street, men and women with pots of pasta and pasta forks approaching you, asking if you’d care for a bowl with nonna’s sauce? How could you say no?), its evolution into an advocacy group, a group that cares about where our food comes from, that the people who grow and make our food earn a fair wage, and that good, clean, fair food be accessible to all.
Along with all of the other Slow Food devotees out there, I am passionate about these issues. How can you not be once you learn a little, and then a little more, about where your food comes from?
But if I’m being totally honest, the thing that initially lured me in – that got me hooked on Slow Food and its ideals – is that this is an organization dedicated to the love of food and the joy that sharing a good meal, made with care and high-quality ingredients, with friends and family could bring. You know that joy, too. The laughter and conversation, the smiling faces of your loved ones basking in the glow of a good meal. That’s as much a part of the enjoyment of food as is the flavor. And sharing that love – of food, family, and friends – was the biggest motivation for my food blog when I started it in 2008.
Out of work and prospects dim for the foreseeable future, I knew that our household food budget had to take a hit. A sizable hit at that. Yet, I also knew that I didn’t want to lose enthusiasm for cooking, for sharing meals with my husband, our extended family, and our friends. I also didn’t want to start shopping where the store’s values were different than my own just because the prices were lower on items like meat. I didn’t want to skip the farm stand or farmers market, and I still wanted to visit my friends at my favorite Italian market, even if Parmigiano-Reggiano and prosciutto had to be relegated to special occasions only.
So a few adjustments were required. First, I set my weekly food budget. Then I did some research about sales. I became very familiar with the prices at the farm stand. I bought copious amounts of slightly blemished butternut squash from my farmer neighbors (and other fall vegetables, too, but, boy, did we eat a lot of butternut squash that first fall. Good thing we’re winter squash obsessed.). I made a meal plan for the week. The shopping list followed the meal plan. And I slapped myself silly – figuratively, of course, that would be over-the-top weird to whack myself in the store - every time I so much as looked at an item not on the list. “Stick to the list, only the list,” I chided myself.
As an aside, because we both now have conjured up the image of me chatting it up with myself in the aisles of the market: no, speaking to myself in public did not (and does not, even still) fall into “over-the-top weird” category, say what that does about me.
Back to the food, now. I bought meat only when on sale. As an added bonus, food ruts were no more – the same cuts of meat are never on sale from one week to the next. Produce has a season, as you know, and it is less expensive when bought in its season.*
We grew more herbs in pots so that their fresh flavors were a one-time cost; the herbs overwinter well indoors, and don’t require much space – handy in our tiny house. Store brands became fast friends. We ate so-called lesser cuts of meat (which happen to be more tasty than the fancy cuts). Oh, and, yes, we ate less meat overall. At this time of year, with the weather in the Northeast alternatively hot and humid, rainy and raw, or sunny and dry, dinners range from penne with fresh tomatoes from our garden and goat cheese**, to roasted whole chicken with farm stand corn and local potatoes***, to hearty comfort foods, like Kale and Walnut Pesto Lasagne****.
The funny thing was, the adjustments made were small, yet I felt more connected to my food than I had when my spending was more willy-nilly. Not only more connected, but more creative. We found that sometimes, potato leek soup needs homemade potato chips for garnish. Or pasta with butternut squash and sausage requires fried sage. Little, tiny add-ons that went a long way to making our low-cost meals feel just a bit more lavish.
And that’s really the thing. The secret is out: Good quality, high-flavor ingredients make for satisfying meals that don’t cost a lot. Not a lot at all, in fact. So, as I have a tendency to say from time to time – to myself, or whoever else might be listening – take THAT, five-dollar fast food value meals – we have our own slow food value meals over here. For $5 or less, besides.
Because clearly I have much to say on the subject, there are footnotes:
*The stalwart whole butternut squash costs 79¢ per pound in-season, $2.79 per pound when shipped in from South America during the northern hemisphere’s summer. I know this firsthand, for I had to test a butternut squash recipe in the middle of July. Painful to have to spend $2.00 more per pound to indulge out of season. And best to steer clear.
**Serving four: Penne costs $1.49 for a box of Whole Foods Market 365 Everyday Value pasta, two pounds of tomatoes should cost in the $3.00 per pound range. We frequently top fresh tomato sauce off with goat cheese, though it can easily be omitted for a vegan option. Goat cheese is around $6.00 or so for 4 ounces at the farmers market, a drizzle of store brand olive oil (figuring a half a tablespoon of oil per dish to be generous, so 2 tablespoons at 12¢ each, and we’ll add in torn basil leaves from a bunch that costs $1.50. Even if we suppose all the basil is used in this dish, the tally is $15.23, or roughly $3.81 per serving.
***And also serving four: A 4.5 pound whole chicken cost $10.27 during this week’s shopping trip, a sprig of rosemary to flavor the bird would cost around $1.50 for a bunch at the farmers market (pssst: you can grow rosemary yourself!), local corn costs 60¢ an ear, local potatoes cost 99¢ per pound (we’ll use two pounds for our mashed potatoes in order to serve 4), and, of course, there’s butter (88¢), olive oil (24¢), and milk (1/2 cup for 16¢) to round it all out. That’s $17.43 for meat and potatoes (plus a starchy side), or $4.36 per serving.
**** For Amy’s Kale Lasagna recipe, check out the Slow Food Tips, Tricks and Challenges page!
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