[content notes: food privilege,being broke, classism,poorsplaining, food insecurity]
We ‘ve been buying store bought bread. I used to make most of my own but when we lived in the house with no heat in most of the rooms and a 30 year old oven that didn’t work so well, I stopped doing it and never got back into the habit.
Yesterday morning we ran out of bread and there was exactly zero cents left to buy any after scraping together the rent money. Good thing I bought flour last week and have yeast and salt on hand,eh?
I was in a terrible mood because of the general circumstances of the day but then it was made worse by Pinterest. We all know Pinterest is a life ruiner. Somehow Pinterest seemed to know the exact buttons that needed pushing and placed as their “recommended for you” posts all things that had to do with “Bake Your Own Bread To Save Money!” and holy hell…. “Eat Real Food Even When You’re Poor”.
Ok, great…good for you for baking your own bread to save some money but I’m not baking bread because I’m trying to save money! I’m baking bread because I don’t have any freakin’ money in the first place!
What if I hadn’t had flour and yeast? I could make pretend bread. That would probably taste great if I put my mind to it and have a lot less calories. Really,though… I am certain some of these people don’t understand that cooking things from scratch like homemade bread requires ingredients and sometimes you don’t even have the money for the ingredients. Then what? Well, then you just go without. Like…you just don’t have that thing at all. Really. That’s a thing that happens.
And time! I work at home. I’m home all day. I am busy but I do have time I can work with. I think back to those days when I was a single mom working full time outside the house and I can just not imagine how I would have baked bread everyday with all that was going on.
Other things needed to bake bread: a working oven or bread oven, the economic ability to pay for the utilities, the physical ability to do it.
So,then after thinking about all that, I was mad about having to bake bread even though I LIKE baking bread. I even like kneading it, which is the one thing people seem to want to cut out of the process. It’s really therapeutic and I developed this whole routine to go along with it. I made a playlist with songs that are all 7-10 minutes in length and that’s how I measure the amount of time I need to knead. It helps keep me focused (ADHD brain here) and makes the time enjoyable.
I also went through that thing where when you don’t have money and you keep thinking back on all the things you bought that you could have done without or spent less money on. Like bread. I even did math. I quit before I had the answer to what I was trying to figure out but that’s beside the point.
I did manage to figure out that the cheapest loaf I can bake at home is about 35¢. It takes two of those loaves to equal the $2 loaf we buy. So, 70¢ for homemade versus $2 for storebought. But we tend to eat more of the homemade because it’s SOOO good (really, it’s much better), so I’m not convinced I should have major remorse about the money spent on storebought bread.
Food pantry is open this Monday. There will probably be bread. There usually is. Bakeries and stores throw a lot out . There’s nothing wrong with it. I’ll take it.
I did make bread after all yesterday. It was awesome,thankfully.If anything had gone wrong, I probably would have flipped tables.
My day ended up improving. I sold something, made some egg ,butter,milk money (we ran out of all 3 yesterday,too. Sheesh). Started the day with zero cents ,ended with more than zero plus good bread. Still annoyed at how the people telling poor people how to cook and spend their money don’t really get it sometimes. This morning I was listening to one of my usual podcasts and a woman introduced as a frugal foodie was on it explaining(poorsplaining) how to eat well even when you’re broke. The woman’s bio does not entail an impoverished life. Yes, bread was mentioned. The universe is determined to piss me off by putting these people in my ears.
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