Sales, Coupons, and Specials
EAT, DARLING, EAT July 27, 2022
Like my quiche full of leftover vegetable bits, there are bits of truth in most every practice. I hope to reintegrate this wisdom—Mom’s gift—and bring more balance into my life. A bit of nutrition for the body, a bit of time for each other, and some energy to take care of ourselves.
A CHILD OF the Great Depression, my mother abhorred waste. Leftover bits of fruit and vegetables were stored in plastic bags, later to be added to soup or salad. She was a fan of sales, coupons, and specials, strategizing grocery shopping around what was least expensive. Dented cans, hamburger marked with a neon orange “Reduced” sticker, and day-old bread filled her grocery cart. Dad voiced botulism concerns while she boiled mason jars and lids for canning bulk-purchased tomatoes or peaches. My three brothers and I husked bushels of corn every August for her to blanch and freeze.
But few dinners included a sweet ear of corn. Most evenings featured well-done beef, iceberg lettuce, and a green vegetable. Iron-deficient as a child, Mom insisted on liver and onions every Friday, something I couldn’t eat without a thick disguise of ketchup. Equally unappealing was her long-standing infatuation with instant nonfat dry milk. To delay grocery store trips, she stirred powder and water together until large lumps dissolved into a thin, blue-tinted mix. Contrary to her promise, chilling didn’t help. She finally mixed it with fresh whole milk, but not until I decided to grow up, move out, and get a good job so I could eat whipped cream by the spoonful.
Mom was a “eat to live” person. Food never made it to her top five interests. Grocery savings were diverted to Christmas shopping (which began earnestly in August), family camping trips in the VW bus, sewing, antiquing, and garage sales. She excelled at these endeavors, as well as ensuring that her children played outside, made it to swim team practice, and didn’t watch too much TV.
