Get More Bang for Your Food Budget Buck Part II: Menu Planning and Plan Ahead Prep

If you are like most of Americans, you rush home after work and have about 10 seconds of private bathroom time before the kids are banging on the door screaming “What’s for dinner!?” Again, like the majority of us, you draw a blank. You open your fridge and see a hodge podge of ingredients and think, “What can I make with that?” Have no fear; we are going to turn a little bit of this in that into a few staple meals. Let’s get crackin’!


Let’s start with a little planning. Remember the notepad from your fast food favorites list? Pull that sucker out. Turn it to a clean page and gather the family around the table. Ask everyone at the table if they could choose dinner tonight, what would they want to eat? I’m going to give you 5 days worth of dinners that you can make on the spot if you plan and prep ahead just a little. This will help you when you are going to the grocery store, because you know what you are going to cook for the week and you can stick to a list of those items. This cuts back on wasted food, time searching for items, and impulse shopping. Let’s see some common favorites:

• Spaghetti and Meat Sauce

• Tacos/Fajitas

• Meatloaf

• Chicken (strips/nuggets/breasts)

• Chicken Pot Pie

Believe it or not, you can crank most of these meals out in about 30 minutes if you plan ahead and have the prep work knocked out ahead of time. When you think about how these meals are more similar than different:

Okay now. You’re probably still freaking out about this, but now let’s talk about prepping these meals in advance so that all you have to do is throw the ingredients together and go.

Let’s start with the meat. As you can see from the diagram, we have six of the meals where half require ground meat (beef or turkey) and the other half requires chicken breasts. When you go to the store, buy a big container of ground beef and a bag of frozen chicken breasts. You will need ½ to ¾ of a pound of ground meat per person, per meal and 1/2 to 1 whole chicken breast piece per person. You will also need sandwich or quart size Ziploc bags. I do all my shopping on Saturday, and do all my prep when I get home. If I were going to make those 6 meals this week, here is how I would begin the prep:

1. Plan Which Day to Cook What Meal: Select which day I want to have each meal and write it on a notepad on the fridge. Mondays are my busy day, so I pick the meal that is quickest to prepare (spaghetti). I don’t like eating beef three days in a row, so I decide I’m going to have beef meal alternated with chicken meals. That way everyone know which dinner is coming up.

2. Prepping Bulk Ground Meat: I crack open my beef and I put enough meat per person for one meal in each bag. For our household of 2, we put in 1 lb or a good fistful approximation of ground beef per bag. Push the meat flat in the bag so it stacks nicely, and thaws quickly after being removed from freezer. When you have divided up all your beef, you will know how many meals you can get out of it. We have found that we actually use a lot less meat this way. $$$!

3. Prepping Bulk Chicken Breasts: Next, go after the chicken. Decide how you want to prepare your chicken. The pot pie and chicken nuggets require smaller pieces, so I cube up the chicken into small pieces, putting those in a bag. Some chicken breasts are mutant large and you can get away with making two cutlets out of them. To make a cutlet, cut the breast in half lengthwise, then mash it a little flatter with your palm. Put a cutlet for each person needing a meal, per bag. Cutlets are how restaurants get their chicken breasts to go farther. Chicken Parmesan, Chicken Fried Chicken, Chicken Teriyaki, etc. are all made with chicken cutlets. Tacos/Fajitas/ Chicken strips will require you to cut your chicken into strips. Cut accordingly.

Cutting a breast lengthwise will make two cutlets

4. Freezer Organization: If you have extra plastic baskets laying around, consider labeling them as beef or chicken, etc. so your mini bags of meat are quickly identified in their buckets. It will help keep all your bags organized, give you a good visual about how much meat you have left, and can help little ones who want (need to) help identify different types of meat. Example: beef is in a red bucket, chicken is in white. "Jenny, open the freezer and pull out one bag from white bucket and put it in the fridge for mommy."

(c) Jem from Dog Food Forum

An alternative approach care of "Crazy Cake Lady"

Now let’s talk a little about prepping veg. Most meals require some aromatics. What is an aromatic? A vegetable used as a flavor base for cooking, usually by sweating or sautéeing. Carrots, onions, garlic, peppers, and celery are all aromatics. All the meals we listed will require aromatics in different sizes. I like to buy garlic that is pre-diced in a jar, but all the rest I will cut myself. Guess what, they rarely go bad because I only pull out what I intend to use right away. Yes, you can buy pre-diced onions, celery, carrots, etc. If you are in a big time crunch and don't mind spending the extra money go for it and buy the pre-chopped stuff. You can save a lot more by doing it yourself though. If you feel more comfortable starting out with the pre-cut stuff and then moving to chopping yourself, it's a good baby step to getting started cooking at home. No judgment.

Onions are a must for all these meals, whether in sliced or diced forms. Sliced onions are the kinds you use for fajitas where diced is the small little cubes. Now because there are plenty of videos on how to dice an onion, and because I am not yet a domestic goddess when it comes to dicing, I am just going to refer you here to watch a video on how to do it here. This takes practice, but you will get faster each time you do it. It's important to take your time and make uniformish pieces so that they will cook at the same rate. I put the diced onion in a Ziploc and slap in the freezer. It will quickly thaw so defrosting is no biggie. (Feel free to make a sliced onion and bell pepper medley bag for tacos/fajitas if that suits your fancy.) Chop some celery into smaller, bite sized pieces and bag. Ditto with the carrots.

The hard work is done now. All your big prep for each meal is ready to go when you are. So let's talk about the next step we delayed earlier: Getting your family involved! Rituals, rituals, rituals.

1. First Person Home Pulls Out the Meat: Starting when I was about 8 years old, my mom would call me after when my school bus arrived home and asked me to pull out a package of whatever meat was on the menu for that night. The first person home checks the week's menu on the fridge, and pulls out one bag of meat that is required for that meal. Put the whole bag on a plate to thaw on the counter, out of sunlight. Because you have prepped all these little bags, it will defrost faster than the whole big container, and you will only use what you need. No kids to do this step? Before you go to bed, check the menu the night before, and place that meat in the fridge to defrost. It will be waiting for you when you get home.

2. Mise en place: What the heck does that mean!? Mise en place is simply French for "everything in place". Since you already know what meal you are going to cook because you have it all right there on the fridge, you have all your ingredients put together on your counter ready to go before you start cooking. This is a great step to do with kids 6 and up. Ask them what they think goes in spaghetti, what do they need? Have them go to the pantry and fridge to pull those out.

3. Starches take the longest to cook, start them first: How many times have you started a meal, only for one part of it to be getting cold while the rest is still cooking. It's a common problem, I still do it myself. The thing to remember is that starches like potatoes, biscuits, etc. take the longest and should be started first, followed by your meats, and your veg last.

Mise en place for lemonade syrup.

With these simple steps, the time it takes to make dinner will be cut back significantly. You'll be proud of your results when you see a week's worth a meal prep ready to go for the next week. As children get older, they can start taking on more tasks in the cooking department until they are cooking a meal a week independently. This is an important life skill that will help build confidence and self esteem. Good luck!

Are you making any changes you that you have read about? What did you do, how much did you save, and what did you learn? Tell me about it in the comments!

Next in the “Get More Bang for Your Food Budget Buck” Series: The Art of Braising, Turning Cheap Cuts of Meats Into Stellar Meals With Very Little Effort.

The Time I Stole Eggs from Bobby Flay

Last weekend was a particularly busy week for Jon due to his company's semi-annual convention. Being the awesome spouse-like person that I am, I tagged along to get in the way and distract him from his duties as much as possible.

What I enjoy most about going to his conferences is the nice dinners that we are occasionally invited to. This time, we were invited to a place that served bone-in Filet Mignon. It was awesome. Afterwards, we went back to the hotel bar for a drink.

Just one...

Well, of course, I was dressed beautifully and made my man proud to sit with me while we were at dinner. The bar, however, always seems like a different story. Things usually end up going South fast when we drink with Jon's coworkers. Why? Because we can never get away with just one drink, and I can't hold my liquor.

Enter the Lemon Drop Martini.

I always imagine myself looking all glamorous and sophisticated as I sip my martinis, all dressed up in my fancy pants. (whoops, just typed panties...must still be fighting that hangover). In my mind, I look totally rad like this:


 However, I probably look a little more like this:



Squee!!!!!!

After two nights of closing down the hotel bar and enough lemon drops in my system to...well...piss a lot of lemonade, my nights got a little bizarre. While Jon was holding his liquor and snoozing next to me, I was overcome with the most realistically odd dream imaginable.

It all started out normal enough: I was in my kitchen cooking...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

...this recipe that was going to be a masterpiece. After looking through the cookbook, I casually walked over to the fridge to get a few ingredients. To my horror, I had no milk, eggs, or butter. I start having a panic attack and dash around the apartment as if the place is burning down. Alas, there is none of these products any where! I glance over to my skillet and the concoction is boiling! Boiling without the necessary staple ingredients! It will be ruined!

I dash out my door, across the landing, up the stairs, and start banging on my neighbor's door. My neighbor ends up being this lady who interviewed me for a job over a year ago (in real life). Not at all phased about why this Ph.D. is living in the same ghetto hovel as me, I begin begging her for all the ingredients I need. She made it very clear (in real life and in my dream) that she didn't really like me. Then, she proceeds to berate me, deny me all said perishables, and slam the door in my face. I weep.

*Weep, weep.*

Then, I just happen to notice a really nice set of stairs leading up to a penthouse suite. "When did my apartment get a penthouse suite?" I think to myself. I am slightly awed and scared at the same time. The steps are so clean and brilliant white.

(Was this a metaphor for heaven? Not sure.)

I felt compelled to climb these stairs in my desperate search for perishables. I slowly crawl on my hands and knees up the flight of stairs to the penthouse. I get to the front door, but I can't bring myself to knock. Then I notice the door is imperceptibly ajar... 

I give the door a tiny push and see a beautiful apartment loft filled with all kinds of luxury furnishings. The floor is gleaming marble. Panoramic windows flood the room with brilliant sunlight. Then, in the distance, I notice a man watching TV on a white couch. His back is to me, but I know who he is ...



Iron Chef Bobby Flay

"Holy Fish-sticks!" I think to myself. "I live two floors below freakin' BOBBY FLAY!" I admire his gleaming, white chef outfit from the floor where I am still hunkered like a scared mouse. He does not notice my presence. I can't bring myself to knock on the door and ask Bobby Flay for the things I need. I feel very small and ashamed...like I'm in a place I don't belong.

I think to myself, "If I ask Bobby Flay to borrow eggs, milk, and butter, he will think I am the most inept cook ever! What will he think of me not having these staples in the house!? STAPLES I TELL YOU!! He will be totally disgusted with me and will refuse to grill in my presence." I feel tears coming to my eyes.

*An idea forms in my brain...the room darkens...a chill fills the air...*

I must steal from Bobby Flay.

My logic is this: If he never knows I took these things, there is still a chance that we can still be best friends.

I see it all playing out in my head like this:

Perhaps we run into each other on the staircase and I can be all casual like, "Oh hey, aren't you that Bobby Flay guy?"

And he would be like "Oh yea, I am. Are you a fan of Iron Chef America?"

Then, I would be all nonchalant like "Oh, well, I watch it every now and then..."

And he would be like, "Well that's cool. Maybe we could grill together sometime."

And then I would be like, "Sounds like it might be fun. I'll bring an apron."

Then, when he turns to head up to his apartment, I squee like a teenage girl.

Time to get serious: I must preserve the future BFF-ness potential of me and Bobby Flay.

I notice a gourmet kitchen staged to the left of the front entry. The only problem is that the kitchen is in direct line of the living area where Bobby Flay is watching TV. Any false move and I would be discovered.

I scamper on my hands and knees across the cold floor in a bold dash to the kitchen.

*Scamper, Scamper*

I dive behind the kitchen's center island as if I am stealing homeplate just before Bobby Flay turns his head away from the television. He must of heard me. I chastise myself. I must be quieter. He returns to watching his program.

I stealthily tip-toe my way to his refrigerator and open the door.



Bobby Flay owns a Stainless Steel Frigidaire Gallery 25.8 Cu. Ft.
 French Door Refrigerator with Thru-the-Door Ice and Water.



I carefully collect the eggs and milk. I peer around the door. He is still tuned into the TV...

Quietly, I close the refrigerator and start my escape when I realize I have forgotten the butter. I break out into a sweat. I glance over my shoulder towards the TV...the coast is clear. I reopen the fridge door and notice the butter is all the way in the back on the top shelf. I MUST get the butter. I move the eggs and milk to one arm and stand on my tip toes to reach for the butter. Just then, the egg carton opens and a couple eggs go tumbling towards the ground.

*Splat, Splat*

The jig is up. I see Bobby Flay rise from the couch all slow-motion style like a giant in "Jack and the Beanstalk".  He starts coming right at me. I snatch the butter from the shelf and make a dash for the front door. Screaming like a mad woman, I run all the way down the stairs, across the landing, and back to my apartment.

I slam my door and lock it behind me. Bobby Flay is coming for me and he is not happy. I dump all the stolen perishables into a pot. All evidence must be destroyed. I try to whip up an omelet. Perhaps if I invite him in for an omelet, he will forget how angry he is about me stealing his food. Everyone likes an omelet, right? RIGHT!?!

*There is a knocking at my door*

I startle.

I look around panicked!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's the hotel maid...

Jon looks over at me. He says I look frazzled. "What's wrong?" he asks...



Dessert 1: Lemon Jelly Roll

Jon’s mother has made 2 of these unsuccessfully this week. Don’t get me wrong, they were eaten right away, but they didn’t come out the way that was intended by the recipe. She gave me a couple of warnings and then I went to work.

The recipe calls for you to make a thin cake dough that you cook until it is “just done” then to “at once” spread a jelly topping on the de-panned, "just barely done" cake.

My feeling about the recipe at this point has already gone sour. Julie Powell, author of “Julie & Julia” writes about this exact feeling in her new book “Cleaving: A Story of Marriage, Meat, and Obsession:”

“Heat the oil until almost smoking. (Don’t you just hate it when recipes say things like “almost smoking”?) Reminds me of that Beckett story about a stage direction reading that a door should be “imperceptibly ajar.” Fuck you, Beckett. The oil can be smoking a little. Or not. Just make sure it’s good and hot.” (p. 38).

So that is how I feel about this recipe. To make matters worse, this old world cookbook gives no indication of how long it will take until the cake is “just done.” When the time comes to bake this portion of the recipe, I have to stop what I am doing (cooking a bean stew for 6, and prepping for the other two cakes to be made) to stand watch.

But first, the jelly for the roll has to be made. This is contrary to the recipe, but never having made a jelly, and only slightly experienced in a jelly like pie (lemon meringue), I didn’t want to be still fussing over it when the “at once” moment came along. So I beat 3 egg yolks, add the lemon juice, corn starch, etc. and begin to slowly bring it to a boil on the stove.

What you need to know about concoctions like these is this: there comes a critical moment where all of a sudden they gel. If you aren’t hovering over it constantly stirring, it is going to burn. Ruined. In the trash, can’t be saved.

I am whipping this stuff around trying to get the cornstarch to dissolve. Powered mix-ins are to me how jellied items are to Julie Powell: they just don’t jive for us. I can never get the little clusters of powder to break up and mix with their ingredient brethren. They just make their way into the final product all lumpy and disgusting. That is why I am whipping this bad boy like my life depended on it.

So when the jelly gels, FINALLY, I get the 12x14” baking sheet greased and floured. I pour out the cake batter, but it does not coat the whole bottom of the pan. Crap! I spread it using gravity like 99% of the rest of the population. Into the oven, and onto the floor where I sit and watch for that "just done" moment.

You know those time lapsed commercials where the little cookie in the oven suddenly pops up and looks ready to eat? Well the cake did that…sort of. I took this to mean that it was “just done.”

At this point you are supposed to flop it on a towel and shemear on the jelly. Well, I carefully loosen all the edges as the “at once” window is quickly closing. I want it to come out of the pan seamlessly, but it holds on for dear life! I turn over the pan against the towel and begin to pound on it, hoping to shake the cake loose.

No dice.

Scrape, scrape, scrape, pound, pound, pound.

Repeat 3 times.

Finally, I get a BEAUTIFUL full side to fall off the pan in a nice sheet. I gently dangle it inches above the towel and throw out my back. It is falling out of the pan painstakingly slow, then the worst happens: a stick and tear. I get this huge tear in the cake, and 1/4 of  it is stuck to the pan while the rest flops on to the towel. Shit!

You know how you can sometimes make a hot cookie or brownie kind of mold back together with some mashing? Not going to happen with a jelly roll cake. It wants to be its own man. Therefore, I am forced to try to scrape the rest of the cake off  the pan, and try to glue it together with the lemon jelly.A nice coat of jelly over the top disguises all ugliness.

Now it's time for the rolling up part.

By now I am sure that “at once” window is long gone and is moonlighting somewhere in Albuquerque. I start to roll anyway, but the freaking cake has now embedded itself in the towel. I finesse it away from the towel and try to roll.

Roll, roll, roll.

*Tear*

Shit!

Roll, roll, roll.

*Tear*

Shit!

Finally I decide to quit being dainty and say (all together now) "The hell with it!"

I finish rolling the cake up and notice that it is nice and fat at one end, while looking deflated and sad at the other.

With a shrug of the shoulders, I sprinkle on powdered sugar. Jon’s parents have low culinary expectations anyway.