My kitchen is an example of a circular economy. When it’s all running as per the plan, there’s no waste and it is a culinary example of a gift economy. 

With my large garden, I have fresh produce all summer, with much to give away. In the growing season, the garden is my haven and my produce aisle. In preserving small batches of veggies, it doubles as my frozen food aisle in the winter.

There is a rhythm to this reuse and regeneration of food. Leftovers become lunches, a meal for an older couple, or get reimagined into a one-of-a-kind recipe that combines these leftovers into something new.  

When they are beyond edibility, food scraps become compost that enhances the soil in the garden.

It’s a system that feeds itself and feeds us and others around us. It is a creative release and a chance to create memorable meals and connections.

While I know some people hate to cook, for me, the kitchen and the act of cooking is a relaxing hobby. As a teenager, when my two brothers were acting up, I often retreated to the kitchen to bake a batch of cookies. It took me out of their drama and filled the house with wonderful smells. And, for the record, IMHO a good cookie can brighten any moment.

These days, beyond the gastro and creative-release benefits, making the most of our food dollars and eliminating food waste is essential to our family budgets.

So when editor Annemarie Schuetz asked me to contribute this feature about food, we centered on the theme of what could be easily and inexpensively made to feed a family. With this in mind, I started to pay attention to categories of food and their pricing relative to each other. 

What I noticed

Rice and pasta are still inexpensive. Beef is generally the most expensive meat, with pork coming in second and chicken following closely behind. Tuna, while in smaller cans than in years past, is still relatively affordable. A pound of dried beans and legumes can still be had for around $2. 

All of this brought back memories of my family meals as a child, which were generally frugal. A pound of hamburger was stretched with the addition of a minced onion, an egg, ketchup, a tad of mustard, some Worcestershire sauce and bread crumbs. We routinely had pea soup with homemade croutons, which were made from a couple of slices of sandwich bread cut into cubes and pan-fried in a tablespoon or so of oil until browned, drained on a paper towel and sprinkled with a bit of garlic salt. 

My mother made lasagna using cottage cheese rather than the more expensive ricotta, using our homemade spaghetti sauce. The sauce was composed of sautéed ground beef, a diced onion, a small can of tomato paste, a can of tomato sauce, Italian spices (oregano, basil, garlic powder, parsley) and rinse water from the tomato cans to thin it out.

When we cooked a chicken or turkey, the bones were always boiled in a pot of water with a small quartered onion, a couple of carrots and a stick or two of celery broken into chunks, plus salt, pepper and a bay leaf to make a broth.

In my kitchen, I also save veggie scraps—onion skins, tops of carrots or ends of celery—throwing them in a quart container and placing them in the freezer until there are enough to make a veggie broth. When I’m in the stores, I look for the sales, and attempt to stock up when items are reduced. Butter freezes well, so I try to pick up an extra pound when on sale. The same goes for meat. 

Feeding the kids

When my son was little, he was an adventurous eater. I remember the first time he belly laughed was when he tasted pea soup. And then for a while he wouldn’t touch the stuff. I also recall some years ago being out in a restaurant where he ordered eel sushi. Something that I would never do! My advice: build good family food memories. 

In those early years, I held fast to my intention that I wouldn’t fight about eating food, and backed it up with the insistence that whatever I cooked would have to be at least tasted. I would run through the ingredients and assure him that there was nothing in what I was serving that he wouldn’t like. After that, there was always a boxed macaroni and cheese that I doctored with a hard-boiled egg (which you can add when you set the water on the stove to boil), some extra cheese and a dash of Worcestershire sauce. A peanut butter or cheese quesadilla was always available as a snack or hunger quencher. Flour tortillas are also useful for a quick breakfast burrito, which can be as simple as scrambled egg and cheese, and could be doctored up with peppers, sautéed onions, ham, sausage, etc. 

In the end, food preparation is an exercise of using our creativity, combined with what we have on hand, to nourish our bodies and each other.

Wanna explore simple foods? Jump over to trrsimplefare on Facebook.