How I Learned To Grocery Shop


As far as my memory allows, I can identify about four separate food phases I went through while working.  This doesn't even touch on the extraordinary food experiences I had during prior years.

When I started full-time work I didn't care too much about my grocery budget.  At least in relative terms.  I wasn't spending much money on anything else and food was my main entertainment.  I don't remember what my breakfasts were, but I imagine I had cereal.  I brought my lunch to work and would on a rare occasion eat at a restaurant if co-workers were going.  Lunches were generally instant noodles, which I suppose was largely due to laziness, since I knew very well how to cook.  Dinners were made at home.  So this was my opulent food lifestyle for a while.

Enter the second phase.  I now prepare actual meals for lunch and restaurant visits are even rarer.  Otherwise, things are pretty much the same as the first phase.  I don't remember when it developed or if I had it from the beginning, but I did -at least eventually- have a food budget.  The problem was it wasn't strict.  If what I wanted pushed me over the limit then that was acceptable.  The food I bought was somewhat healthy, but generally processed.

Phase three swept over me like a warm blanket.  After a trip to Southeast Asia, I came back reinvigorated and with some new thoughts in my head.  I adjusted my diet and decreased processed foods.  I did more cooking from scratch.  I did more batch cooking.  I would make a whole week's worth of lunches, if possible, on Sunday.  I would get a few days worth at least.  For about a year my breakfast was rice porridge.  I can tell you that eating rice compared to processed cereals can bring some good savings.  I ate it cold in the mornings.  Dinner was cooked each night and I could give it more attention, since I was batch cooking my lunches on the weekend.  I was now saving a lot of time and some money.  I decreased my budget allowance, but still would allow myself go over budget often.

Phase four was dramatic.  This came after I had The Epiphany and I closely examined my entire food-eating process.  First, whatever rare restaurant eating I did was right out... mostly.  I went out once a month with a friend of mine to a restaurant, but that was it.  One time I forgot to bring my lunch to work and instead of treating it as an excuse to eat out, I used it as a lesson to not forget my lunch (through the power of hunger).  I switched my breakfasts from cold rice porridge to raw whole oats with fruit.  My lunches and dinners followed the same process as in phase three, but with different ingredients.  Processed foods were no longer affordable or in fact desirable.  This had the awesome side benefit of also reducing the packaging I brought in.  I slashed my food budget again and strictly adhered to it.  By the end my final grocery budget was $12.50 per week, with the possibility of tapping into $5 more (if it was available and necessary) which was shared with soap and stuff like that.

Your taste buds change after a while of only buying foods with only one or two words in the ingredient list.  Mine did at least.  Eating processed foods really starts to become distasteful after that.  I practiced as many types of cooking as I could and were practical.  To not be wasteful, I would eat whatever I made, no matter what it tasted like.  Although I would do whatever I could to improve a struggling meal.  The stakes are much higher to learn to cook well when a poor attempt means five awful meals instead of one.

Rice was a main staple, but I also had a lot of pastas.  Different types of beans, tofu, and eggs provided protein.  Whatever green vegetable was cheapest at the ethnic markets were what I chose.  Bananas are hard to beat on a price per pound count.  And I added other miscellaneous stuff to fill out the budget and my stomach.  But basically I could just look for what was cheapest, fresh, and filled out my food pyramid.  I learned to buy foods in bulk which had the highest nutrient level per dollar.  A useful budgeting technique I discovered was to not buy anything that cost more than $1 per pound.  I would go grocery shopping each week and carry what I bought in my backpack.  Since I knew exactly what my budget was and what my target price per weight was, I knew how much my backpack might weigh at the end of the trip.  If it weighed more than usual, I knew I had a good shopping run.

It's also worth noting that I would do my shopping on route to home after work on Friday.  I didn't make a special trip just for the groceries.  I took the bus like always and I could get off in the middle and get back on with my groceries and not lose any money for it, since transfers were free.  On top of that I also lived within walking distance of several grocery stores.  They were generally more expensive than the ethnic stores I liked to visit, but were still there as an option.  It's important to calculate the cost of transportation when price comparing.

The most vivid realization that came from my new habit was psychological.  It gets a bit more difficult to put into words now.  I came to this super-awareness that I had been shopping for my wants, instead of my needs.  I saw that before I would buy something because it ran out, not because I needed it for some reason.  And when I thought I needed ketchup for my potatoes I would reflect that vinegar and salt were just as good.  I was reminded of how simple it is to live.  To be happy with what you have.

Story Time: The Stonemason


This is a story I read a number of years back.  When trying to relocate it I found several different versions and this was the closest to what I remember.  Only one story today.

Once upon a time in a town in the land of China there lived a stonemason. Using hammers and chisels he crafted ornaments, statues and grave stones out of rock. He was very good at his job, and people all around admired his craftsmanship and artistry.

One day he was summoned to the house of a tax collector, who was very rich and who wanted him to carve a large number of statues in honour of his ancestors. The stonemason did a very good job, and was paid handsomely. But he was very impressed by his patron’s wealth, he admired the large palatial house, the servants who were always there to see every whim of their master, and the rich variety of the food served up all day long. In fact the more he dwelt on it the more envious he became, and he compared his own lifestyle with that of the rich man. He decided he wanted to be rich and started wondering about how to achieve this.

Now at that time in China there were many spirits, almost as many as there were people in fact, and some of them had magical powers. One of them had been following the stonemason and decided to grant him his wish. The next day the stonemason woke up and found he lived in a palace of a house, and servants were all around, bringing him water and towels for his bath and sumptuous dishes or his breakfast. The stonemason was very happy; he dressed in the finest silks and spent his days wondering about the town and the surrounding countryside.

One day he woke up to a great commotion outside in the street. A high administrator was passing through the town, accompanied by a small army of civil servants and drummers to announce his arrival. The high administrator was carried on a high chair, and as he passed all the people bowed and kowtowed to him. The stonemason had come outside and watched the procession. As the high administrator passed him he kept standing tall, why should I bow to this man? he thought. I have just as much money as he has, and just as many servants, more, in fact! But the high administrator was very angry with the stonemason for not showing the respect he felt should be accorded a man of his status, and ordered his men to arrest him. They took the stonemason outside the town and administered a beating to him, so severe that he was still lying in the dust when his servants came to find him and carried him home.

The stonemason was lying in his bed, nursing his wounds, thinking that it must be a good life to be a high administrator. I might be rich and have a lot of money, he thought, but they have all the power. He wished he could be one of them.

And behold, his friendly sprit heard his thoughts and within seconds he was changed into a high administrator. Now he travelled the country, carried in a high chair, surrounded by civil servants, drummers and soldiers. He was a very strict administrator and handed out fines and punishments everywhere. The people hated and feared him. One day he was travelling through the countryside with his entourage, in his high chair, when they saw some young girls picking flowers by the roadside. The stonemason and his servants decided hey should try to catch the girls and have some fun. When they saw the men coming towards them the girls started running and screaming at the tops of their voices. Some farmers working in the fields nearby heard the screams and came to the girls’ rescue, armed with their farm tools. They beat up the civil servants and took hold of the fancy administrator, tore his fine clothes off his body and gave him a good hiding.

As the stonemason lay in the field, nursing his wounds, he admired the spirit of these simple farmers, and decided the best thing in life must be to be one of them. Before he new what had happened, he had changed into a farmer. His spirit had obliged again. The stonemason enjoyed being a farmer. Every day he would go into the fields with the other villagers, turn the soil, sow the seeds and pull out weeds. It was very hard work but very satisfying. The only problem was the sun. The heat poured down by the sun was relentless, made him sweat and tired him out. He noticed that animals were much cleverer than men, some stayed in the shade, some, like the water buffalo, stayed in the water, only the farmers worked in their fields all day long, unable to escape the heart of that sun high up in the sky. As the weeks went by, the stonemason came to admire and respect the sun. Eventually he wished he could be the sun, and before he knew it, there he was, high up in the sky, an enormous fireball sending heat down to the earth. Now it was his turn to laugh at the little people down there he could do nothing to escape the power of his heat.

One day some enormous rainclouds came drifting by, and put themselves between the sun and the earth, stopping his heat getting down there. The stonemason was enraged, that these rainclouds dared interfere with him. He’d never before realised that they had the power to obscure the sun. So rainclouds are more powerful than the sun even, he thought, and I’m sure you can guess by now, what happened next. Yes, as soon as the thought entered the stonemason’s head, his spirit heard, and turned him into a mighty dark raincloud. He was so big and dark that the people on the earth below noticed him, and said: look at that big dark cloud. There’s a storm coming up, we’d better take shelter!

And a huge wind came rolling through the sky, pushing the clouds this way and that, tearing them apart, throwing them at the earth below. The stonemason saw all this happening from close by, and was enthralled. My, what power this storm has, he thought, nothing and nobody can hide from a storm. That’s the thing to be! His spirit was always close by, and immediately the stonemason was turned into a mighty storm, that whipped across the fields and the hills, terrorising farmers, rich men, civil servants and administrators alike. He pulled up trees, he blew down huts and houses, he blew the tiles off the roofs, he blew the water from the rivers onto the land; what fun he had! Then he came across a rocky mountainside, and he blew and he blew, but nothing moved. The rock just stood there, untouchable and immovable. That never occurred to me, the stonemason thought, that rocks are even stronger than the fiercest storm. I want to be a rock!

The spirit heard him, and there he was, our stonemason, a mighty grey rock on the mountain side, as solid as the earth itself. How beautiful, this is, he thought, how peaceful. From his position in the mountain he could observe the everchanging sky, he could see the fields below, and the farmers going about their business under the scorching sun. But he, the rock, just sat there, unchangeable, impervious to the elements.

One day he became aware of some unusual sounds, it took him by surprise somewhat, but eventually he realised that what he was hearing were human voices! He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard a human voice, in fact during his existence as a rock, time had become totally meaningless to him. The voices belonged to some local stonemasons, who’d climbed up the mountain looking for some good solid rock that they could turn into statues and ornaments. They knocked on the surface of the rock with their hammers and picks, until they found just the right qualities they were looking for and then started to rain blows on the rock to separate it from the mountain. Our stonemason was horrified at first. How dare these people come here and disturb his peace! But then it dawned on him that however mighty and solid he was as a rock, a stonemason could always find a way to separate him from his mountain. He screamed for help, and his spirit heard him, and when he opened his eyes, he found himself back in his workshop, a chisel in one hand and a hammer in the other. For a minute he thought he could see his spirit winking at him, and he smiled as he realised how wonderful it was to be a stonemason.

In Which I Read A Book

I took my time about it, but I finally got a local library card.  Now I have access to books so my brain can grow bigger.

At first I tried to weasel my way into a card at the library 6 miles away (bikeable), but they wouldn't have any of that.  That's really too bad, because that would have made everything a lot easier.  I also think that system would have easier access to books I'd like.  Instead I got a card at the library 12 miles away (not so bikeable) where they say I belong.  It was really easy though, they didn't even have me fill out a form!

The problem is I don't want to get in my car every time I want to read a book.  So that's where my great discovery comes in.  The library, along with many these days, can lend Amazon ebooks.  I'm just a poor man, so I don't have any fancy Kindle, but I do have my creaky lappy, which has Chrome, which has a Kindle reader extension.  Now I can read a select few ebooks downloaded from online.  It's been a long time since I read an actual book, so I'm enjoying the experience.  I also researched and found that my old library in the Big City provides access too.  Their selection is different so that means I get access to even more books online.

It's not perfect, but I'm pretty happy about having such easy access to books.  I also like that I could use this service wherever I am, at least while my library accounts are valid.  It makes me excited about a possible future where I could get instant access to any book I wanted.