The Economics of Greek Food

I'm hungry. It's 3:30 pm -- more than late enough for lunch. There is food ready in the kitchen.

I'm temporarily too tired to go get it.

When I took Economics in college I learned that "Economics is the study of how people allocate scarce resources among unlimited desires."

My most scarce resource is stamina. Until I typed that sentence I thought it was energy, but stamina is more accurate. It's also sneaky. I can judge my energy level directly and allocate it accordingly. I don't know how much stamina I have until it's gone, and I'm back in my recliner, limp.

As I thought about what to fix for lunch I considered the fact that these are my last few days off a neutropenic diet. I have some corn tortillas, and wondered what I could have with them. I decided I wanted hummus. And olives. And as long as I was planning a Greek lunch, avgolemono soup. There are no greens in the apartment, or I would have added a Greek salad.

The avgolemono would have to be avgo-less: eggs are a treat food. I could thicken it with cornstarch. It cooks for a long time, so I could start it, then rest.

The hummus takes a little more work, but it can be done in stages.

I would be able to enjoy the tortillas, and the olives, and the fresh lemons that I can't have next week.

I did one thing at a time. I didn't commit to something new until the previous step was cleaned up and put away. I thawed some broth I made in December and started the rice cooking. I grated four mini carrots and added them to the soup. I washed and juiced a lemon. I mixed cornstarch in a prep bowl with some juice. I sat down to rest.

I looked at the soup; it was too thick. I used too much rice. I added water and let it cook. I got out the ingredients for the hummus. I sat down to rest.

I put the ingredients in the food processor: garbanzos, almond butter, garlic, lemon juice. No parsley in the house. I put the utensils in the dishwasher. I put the jars away.

I processed the beans. I let the processor run. And run...I like my hummus very smooth.

And all this time, when I wasn't sitting and resting, I was on my feet. I didn't walk very far, I didn't carry very much, I didn't work very hard....

I tasted the hummus. Yuck! Too much almond butter, barely any lemon. Get out another lemon. (Hmm...now I can add more lemon to the (extended) soup.) Juice the second lemon. Add to the hummus, which is now too thin.

Put the hummus in a storage container, so that none is wasted. Put the container in the refrigerator. Rinse the processor and its parts.

And collapse into the recliner. I am beyond limp. I'm beyond wet spaghetti. I feel fine. I don't hurt anywhere. I'm mentally alert.

And my legs are waving a white flag. My arms are pretty limp, too...I am just able to drape them on the laptop and type.

And I forgot to eat the olives!

Note: the lemon hummus recipe is available on the YouTube video clip at the bottom of the right-hand column.

Meals on Wheels -- Wow!

I found out Wednesday that my insurance company offers "10 frozen Meals on Wheels" after each hospitalization. I decided to try them to see whether there was any way I could work them around my allergies and other medical restrictions. They were delivered today.

"Ten frozen meals" does not do them justice. At all.

Each meal includes a frozen entree with veggies, juice, bread or roll and snack. The juice is all 100%, not corn syrup. The bread and rolls are dairy-free. There was an insert with serving suggestions and full ingredient / nutrition info. That will also help me figure out what some of the little cups are.

There were instant coffee and margarine servings, that would be appreciated by others.

Will all the meals work for me? No. The cheese omelet entree is completely off limits, and I'll have to discard the "sour cream and chive" potatoes and "loaded potato."

But most of the food will work. It's easy to prepare, easy to clean up, individual servings, varied...and FREE. It's been prepared in a commercial kitchen, and the produce is all cooked, so I can eat it when I'm on a neutropenic diet.

This is huge, just huge. Each time I stay in the hospital overnight I can request a box of ten meals. I cannot express my gratitude and relief.

Update: I ate one of the meals last night, to try them. There won't be a black market for these; I'd rank them a little below a Banquet frozen dinner. They contain all sorts of fractionated food components that I usually avoid like the plague, e.g., soy protein isolate. Many of them contain sodium caseinate, which is a dairy product, but in very small quantities.

That does not change the fact that I am grateful for them and am relieved to know they are available after future rounds of chemo. They are easy to prepare, easy to clean up, single servings and free.

Crockpot revisited

Maybe a new, smaller crockpot wasn't that indulgent.

After searching three stores for yellow split peas I tried a new recipe. Well, half a new recipe. Yes, I said yellow split peas.

Apparently Low is really High if you only fill one third of the crock.

True Confessions

I ordered another crockpot. It's already shipped.

Why is that a true confession? Because I already have three. And four pressure cookers. And a rice cooker. And money is extremely tight.

I'm working through the cookbook Not Your Mother's Slow Cooker Recipes for Two. She recommends a 1.5 qt cooker for some things. (She suggests an oval, but I couldn't find one.)

I recognized that sometimes I don't eat well just because everything seems like a big deal. I wait too long, then it's too late to start. I'm working on a food plan -- no, it's really more of an approach, a philosophy -- along the lines of "small is more."

I think when most people think about cutting down effort in the kitchen we think of cooking big: once a month cooking, or make three/freeze two, or making a huge batch and freezing individual meals. That approach got me through grad school, but it's not working for me now, and I suspect I'm not the only one.

I happen to be sick and tired, but there are others who are simply busy, engaged in life.

Cooking big means buying big, prepping big, cleaning up big. I just don't have the energy. It also means having to eat a lot of whatever you make. Cooking small, however... I can peel one carrot, saute one onion, wash one pan. Then I can pop the crock in the dishwasher, eat leftovers for a day and start over.

I'm hoping that the smaller crock will be less of a mental obstacle, that instead of being put off by the thought of "dragging out the crockpot" I'll instead see it more along the lines of pulling a dish out of the cupboard.

So, I'm working towards a plan involving components from several schemes developed by others.

And the other tools I mentioned? I use all of my pressure cookers except the one that was my grandmother's. I keep that for sentimental reasons, but I use the second generation ones. I use my rice cooker, but the parts don't go in the dishwasher. I use my largest crockpot whenever I cook beans from scratch. I plan to experiment with the broth from scratch that I currently make in my largest pressure cooker. That gives me ingredients, though. I haven't been using the crockpots to put a healthy meal on the table.