Three days ago I decided that we were going to try this crazy experiment and see if we could stay away from the grocery stores for ONE month. I mean, I pride myself on being a prepping queen and have a house full of food. A freezer full of meat and applesauce and vegetables. A pantry full of canned fruit, beans, all manner of dry goods including oats, rice, flour, quinoa, pasta and barley. I buy sugar(s) and baking supplies in bulk and have more spices than I can use, oh, ever. I have dry milk for the days between milk deliveries (that's the only thing we keep this month) and a fridge that seemingly creates butter on the second shelf, in the back, overnight. I was blessed with a relative who sent me tallow and a husband who makes the most delectable ghee, so the fats are covered. I cook nearly everything from scratch and Drew makes the most awesome bread ever. And did I mention the beer? He makes beer. Most importantly, I have hens! Many hens! Who give me eggs! Except...when they don't. Which is, well, now. Apparently, the eight week old chicks that I put in the coop last week are acting as, uh, birth control or something. The hens are not laying. There are no eggs. Every day. No eggs. Every since, basically, I decided to do this. And did I mention that my kids are teenagers and an almost teenager? Who eat all the time? Who open the fridge 306 times a day and say, "God, Mom. Why do we never have any food in the house?" while simultaneously rolling their eyes and slamming the door and turning on their heel to leave me up to my elbows in flour, blowing hair out of my eyes while I roll out the homemade noodles or bread or cornbread? And did I mention that baking without eggs becomes an exercise in...cornstarch? Did you know, for instance, that cornstarch, when stirred properly into a bread pudding, will actually thicken the milk and sugar and create a puddingy like dessert thing? Not that the locusts were into the consistency aspect of that particular dish. They poured the last of the whipped cream and Hershey's chocolate syrup on it and ate it like it was the last supper.
In three days we managed to eat very well for dinner. Lunches and snacks are going to be another story entirely. Once you've completely run out of convenience foods like the Annie's mac-n-cheese, which is an after-school staple, and you've eaten all the American cheese and kimchee sandwiches, (yes, for real) and there are no bags of whatever to open and stick your grubby paws into in order to scarf the contents, you might be actually required to...make something. If you were a teenager, this might come to you as what we adults like to call a "nasty shock". Effort expended? Is it a...joke? Peel the banana? Wash the apple? Slice the bread and spread the peanut butter onto it? Perish the thought.
This brings me to the three mangos which are sitting on our counter. They are not ripe. They will not be ripe for a few days. Anyone who eats mangos knows that they require quite a bit of effort to get to the delicious, flowery fruit. Carefully peeling away the rind in strips, holding the fruit gently so as not to bruise the fruit, taking a super sharp knife and holding the slippery, juicy oblong we cut just so, in order to remove as much fruit from the pit as possible. This could take an astonishing five minutes. Mangos are not for the faint of heart. Or teenagers. But I'm willing to take bets that in a few days when there is literally nothing to eat which does not require some effort there will be fights over who had how many pieces of mango and whether the person who peeled and pitted the mango deserves more slices or not. Any antes?
I feel the need to end this little update with a note about frosting. It is unwise for us to leave opened cans of frosting (with sprinkles included in a little plastic cup on top) in the freezer where children can find them. I won't make that mistake again.