Of course, I asked the age-old questions about how long division could possibly be relevant once I achieved adulthood. Mom's pat response was that I would need all matter of number magic in order to cope with grown-up activities like balancing my checkbook and shopping for food.

Now, thanks to her vigilant tutelage, I can instantaneously calculate the price per potato in a five pound bag of Idahos with savant-like precision. Well, not really, but she reads this blog, so yes, I can. For years I played the diligent shopper and like so many of us, I “did the math” when I was out shopping, ever in search of the Better Buy.

It's a Trap

At a certain point, however, my Virgo logic kicked in and I started questioning the Better Buy myth. Every time I threw away that second head of lettuce from a BOGO deal or had to make yet another loaf of banana bread from the bananas I didn't get to, I had to wonder. Was I doing something wrong? I mean, I was clipping coupons like crazy and I was even pretty sure I could spot one of those better buy deals across three aisles. Something wasn't quite right…

Then one day, as I was throwing away the half a loaf of banana bread I never got around to eating—made from half a bunch of bananas I never got around to eating—I had a stunning revelation:

If I'm throwing it away, it isn't a better buy–no matter how good a deal I got.

Voilà! Wasted food is wasted cash any way you look at it.

(Price) Point to Ponder

So here's a hypothetical for you. Kind of a word problem, except I'm doing the math so you won't have to. You can thank me later. 

Let's say you need two pears for a simple dessert recipe. You go to the store and find that organic pears are 89¢ each. Or you can pick up a bag of five commercially grown pears for $3.49. Which option is the best choice?

Here is where we get tripped up. The commercially grown pears may seem like the better buy at about 20¢ less per pear, but are they really? Let's put aside the chemicals and pesticides for a minute (Honestly, don't we already know that we shouldn't be putting that crap into our bodies anyway?) and do the real math.

You only need two pears. If you buy five, the chances are pretty good that three of them are going to go bad and get thrown away. Cold hard cash translation? You just threw away $2.07. That's already more than the $1.78 you would have spent on the two organic pears you needed. Not to mention, had you only bought the two organic pears over the pre-packaged, less healthy pears, you would have saved $1.71 to begin with.

Better buy schmetter buy—the simple truth is that if you put your mind to it, you can buy better food while spending (and wasting!) less money.  

He says no—and so do I. 

Are we the only ones doing the math?

Frankly, I don't remember liking math too much as a kid, although these days I'm pretty sure the problem was Mrs. Lyford, my first grade teacher who was, like, a hundred, and who didn't make things like adding and subtracting seem all that compelling. I was way more interested in the real world application (like if Mikey kicks my chair one more time how many times do I have to clobber him before he cuts it out?)—a subtle foreshadowing, I suppose, of the fact that I would one day come to love the logic and dependability of numbers that add up. 

The Numbers Game

If you haven't seen Bittman's piece yet, go take a look… I'll wait for you. 

Cool. You're back. So what do you think? Is junk food really cheaper? 

According to Bittman's calculations, it would seem not so much, since “you can serve a roasted chicken with vegetables along with a simple salad and milk for about $14, and feed four or even six people”  as opposed to his example of a typical McDonald's order for a family of four that comes to about $28. 

Ah, serendipity! In the Conscious Shopping menu-planning guide, I used one of my favorite recipes—Roast Chicken with Oven-Roasted Vegetables—as the first example. 

I decided to test my recipe against Mr. Bittman's calculations. I figure if those pesky neutrinos can call Einstein's Theory of Relativity into question, I most certainly better check the math. 

Behold! The cost analysis using my recipes: 

one 5 lb. roasting chicken      $9.75 
one pound red potatoes         $1.35  
2 carrots                                    $0.50  
2 parsnips                                $1.00  
1 yellow onion                          $1.00  
celery                                         $0.70  
one apple                                 $0.70  
fresh rosemary                         $1.00 

For a total of                          $16.00

Plus olive oil, salt :& pepper and a clove of garlic which you likely already have on hand. 

My Simple Salad—aptly named in my upcoming cookbook because it requires no chopping—comes in at around $3 and consists of mixed greens, walnuts, dried cranberries, mandarin oranges tossed with a drizzle of olive oil, a spritz of apple cider vinegar with salt and pepper to taste. 

The total for this meal using my own recipes comes in at $19, which is slightly higher than Bittman's estimate, but I sprang for the all-natural, hormone-free, antibiotic-free chicken and some organic produce.

So far, so good, right?

But Wait! There's More!

My meal still comes in at $11 under the junk food meal. But one of the core components of my Conscious Shopping philosophy is not wasting food—and that chicken still has more to offer. 

Take a few moments to glean the remaining meat from the bone and use it to make a simple and tasty chicken salad. Throw in some dried cranberries (you have them on hand from your salad) and chop up some celery (you have that on hand, too) and you're halfway there. Not to mention, by taking this delicious homemade salad for lunch, you won't have to spend money on lunch. 

Haste Makes Waste

Don't be so quick to toss that carcass now that dinner's over and you're all set for tomorrow's lunch. Making chicken stock is so simple and you already have most of what you need on hand—chicken bones, the makings of mirepoix (fancy French name for the flavorful combination of celery, carrot and onion used in soups, stocks and sauces), a few herbs and seasonings… And if you're feeling really decadent, you can throw in a turnip for added flavor. Don't panic—turnips are super cheap. 

Homemade chicken stock! There's so much you can do. Make any number of soups! Use it to make rice or mashed potatoes more flavorful! Make gravies or sauces! Throw it the freezer and save it for a rainy day! 

Picture this

You made a really easy and simple, healthy and delicious meal for your family. You got creative with the leftovers (by comparison, there's not really much to do with half a leftover Big Mac and some limp fries, is there?) AND you just saved $11. 

Imagine how much more you could feed your family if you took that $11 and added it to your grocery budget. The secret of Conscious Shopping is planning your meals around a few key ingredients and making informed decisions about what you eat and how you buy it.  

So what's the verdict? Is junk food really cheaper? You do the math. 

By the way, Mrs. Lyford  wasn't actually 100 (I can count, after all), but she was also my mother's first grade teacher. And my grandmother's. Seriously. I'm so not kidding. That's small town living for you… 

For ages now I've been getting my eggs from any of several farms up the road. Sometimes they're so fresh, I have to wait for them to get cleaned off. Oh, and those half-billion eggs recalled last August? Didn't bat an eye. Not even when my beloved came home in a panic. “Don't worry,” I told him. “We're safe. Come on, I'll take you to visit the hens who laid those eggs you had over easy this morning.”

 He was relieved. I was…let's just say it—a little smug. 

FFFFFFTT!

The Universe just sent a curve ball whizzing past my head. 

I've never made any secret of my love for eggs. Not just from those happy, free-wandering chickens—all eggs: quail eggs, duck eggs—even one very impressive ostrich egg. Freakin' yum.

Can delicious irony rival a perfectly poached duck egg nestled atop creamy corn grits and a side of sautéed kale and red onions? If it can, then here it is… albeit served up cold.

All of a sudden and out of the proverbial blue, I'm allergic to eggs.

FFFFFFTT!

Didn't I have a wheat thing? Didn't I just give up toast?

Does it matter that I buy wheat flour that is locally grown and milled or that my eggs come from the farmer up the road?

No, says my new friend, Ana Phylaxis. 

Great. Now what?