Eating right isn't always an economic option

A friend and I were talking about the stress of single motherhood, our salaries, which lost pace with inflation years ago, the rising cost of gas, groceries, heat. We were leaving work. I was headed to the gym. She was going to the day care center to pick up her little one. It was a run-of-the-mill conversation and I assumed I’d forget about it as soon as I started up my car.  

Then she said this: “The thing is, eating healthy is just so expensive.” And whoosh, for me it’s twenty years ago. It blows my mind sometimes, how our brains work, how an off the cuff, innocuous jumble of words can come together in just the right way and get your stomach shaking and blood surging. 

Some of that feeling was and is rage because I know she’s right. It’s just plain wrong that we live in a land where it’s cheaper to buy a cellophane-wrapped bear claw made mainly from sugar, flour, and a dozen eight-syllable chemicals than it is to buy a bunch of grapes or an orange. I think it’s awful that three 900-calorie, 30 grams of fat Lunchables are cheaper than a loaf of decent bread. 

But her remark called up even more, because there are some things you never forget. It’s frightening, going to the grocery store with every penny you have, and leaving with barely enough for gas for the week. And it downright sucks when you’ve miscalculated and you have to ask the cashier to wait a sec while you go through your bags and decide what essentials need to be voided from that week’s shopping take. It’s even worse when there’s a line of impatient people behind you, rolling their eyes and making huge sighing noises and your little kids see all of this. 

That was my life when I first got separated. I was a freelance writer at the time making next to nothing, in grad school, waitressing nights, raising two tiny girls. My ex was paying a whopping $38 a week in child support and I could write reams about that, but then my blood pressure will skyrocket and I’ll lose focus. Plus, the paltry amount already says worlds about him as well as our joke of a court system, so I’ll leave that alone for now.    

I got really good at multi-tasking during shopping trips. I got to the point where I could estimate my grocery bill to within a couple of cents. I trained myself to always be under, and to always be ready to put items back just in case I miscalculated. Items that rarely made the cut: cereal other than Cheerios, light bulbs, crackers other than store brand Saltines, tissues.  

  

For me, one sign that I’ve made it through to the other side is that I’ve lost my sharp estimating edge. I don’t have to be as vigilant with my cash. I’ve got enough money now so it’s okay if I’m off a bit. It kills me that what I spend today just on me is more than what I used to spend to feed the three of us. One reason for that is because prices have gone up. The other reason I’m spending more? I’m eating better. Eating healthy is expensive. 

Way back during scary times, I mainly shopped the inner aisles. Our grocery bags would be filled with boxes and bottles. I rarely shopped the perimeter, where the more wholesome foods usually live. My girls and I survived primarily on homemade soups extended with starches: sale pasta, white bulk rice, egg noodles. 

As for protein? What red meat we ate was the cheapest, highest fat hamburger cooked into meatloaf and meatballs, or added to homemade minestrone. I’d buy sale chicken parts for chicken and vegetable soup. I never once stopped at the fish counter, though I’d stop at the deli counter for American cheese and shiny sodium-laden olive loaf or bologna. I stocked up on Starkist tuna whenever it was on sale because it was the only kind one daughter would eat. I’d buy bags of dry lentils and beans. I’d buy the largest jar of peanut butter that I could afford. I’m betting sugar was probably the main ingredient.  I bought huge loaves of fluffy white bread enriched with all sorts of lovely chemicals.

  

For fruit, it was rare if I ever bought anything other than a big bag of apples and a bunch of bananas.  I bought strawberries and blueberries only when they were on sale, which was usually just a few weeks in the summer. It never even entered my universe to consider buying expensive fruits like blackberries or raspberries. 

Our veggies were ones that could be thrown into a simmering broth. I’d buy what was on sale, usually broccoli, carrots, onions, cans of tomatoes. On rare occasions, when it was marked down a ton, I’d buy cauliflower, which was a favorite with the girls. But though they begged, I never bought celery, because the price was always ridiculous, even discounted. I usually avoided canned veggies. Too little bang for the buck. We only did salads in the summer time because that’s when the ingredients would be cheaper, when you could get a big head of iceberg lettuce for just thirty-three cents sometimes.  

I remember being at a family member’s house for dinner once and they served a salad of romaine lettuce, gorgonzola, and walnuts. The cost of the ingredients for that one salad could feed myself and my girls for two days. I remarked on how much tastier romaine was than our standard iceberg lettuce. The family member said I should buy romaine instead if I liked it better. He added what I already knew, that darker vegetables have more nutrients. 

“But it’s so much more expensive,” I said. 

He laughed at that and said something like, “What’s a couple of cents?” 

I smiled politely and thought, “You don’t have a clue.”  I knew how the real world worked. A couple of cents saved here and there gives you what you need to buy something else you’d maybe been putting off, like a book of stamps or a pack of garbage bags, or shampoo because you probably shouldn’t add any more water to the one bottle you’ve been nursing for weeks now.  

  

Today my grocery cart is full of stuff from the outer aisles: broccoli, strawberries, kale, spinach, avocados, carrots, peppers in all sorts of crayon colors. I still buy bananas and apples, but I buy them because I like them, not because they’re my only option. I buy blackberries now, but only on sale, because they’re still stupidly expensive.  

Sometimes, I hit the fish counter for salmon or shrimp. I buy the 96 percent lean ground beef, and still make it into meatloaf. I like meatloaf.  I stay away from cheap deli meats, and in fact make it a point to avoid deli products. I stock up on whole grain pasta and brown rice, but only eat those when I’m carbing up for long runs. These days I’m more of a baked sweet potato fan anyhow. 

I buy Greek yogurt, and occasionally buy eggs though I usually throw out the yolks and eat only the whites. I buy lots of frozen fruits and veggies. I buy small jars of organic peanut butter, no added sugar whatsoever. 

My work friend’s words brought back volumes. I eat better now than I did back when I raised my girls. I hate that sentence but it’s historical fact and sadly, my economic truth. I know this is true for some of you too.