I Gave Up Dining Out For A Week. Here’s What I Learned
Learn how to nail your ‘go to’ recipes with San Remo’s Budget Busting collection
I’ll admit that, when I was challenged to give up dining out and ordering in for a week, I started looking for excuses to say no.
I was concerned that the time and effort spent cooking would erode my precious, indolent, self-indulgent evenings. As someone who exists primarily on ready-made or delivered meals, I even Googled how long it would take for a person of my weight to starve to death (an insulting amount of time, it turns out – around two weeks).
With no way out, I reluctantly agreed it was time to break a few bad habits and become better acquainted with my kitchen. I also figured it could be an interesting experiment in saving some serious coin.
The thing is, I’m not a bad cook. I’m just tremendously lazy. Other, better people than me find chopping, boiling and stirring a therapeutic and mindful way to wind down after work. I find it dull drudgery. I believe staring at my phone and watch my takeaway food being delivered in real-time (“Cycle faster! Take the shortcut!”) is a much better use of my time and money.
Deciding to do things properly, I set some strict parameters for the challenge. For seven days, starting on Monday, I decided to make absolutely no food or drink purchases from cafes, restaurants or food delivery apps. I also banished ready-made meals – a staple in my kitchen.
Here’s how it went.
Brown Bananas And Gritty Instant Coffee
I launch into Monday totally unprepared. I haven’t left myself time to make lunch, so I grab a random assortment of things out of the fridge. I swoop out of my house late, flustered, and with a slice of cheese, two falafel balls of indeterminate age, and a couple of brown bananas crammed into my handbag
I arrive at work desperately in need of a coffee. I’m halfway through the queue before I remember that store-bought drinks are off the list too. I settle instead for the gritty, instant coffee my office has provided and sip/chew my way through it at my desk. I radiate an aura so hostile no-one talks to me for the morning. That, at least, was a plus.
Later in the day, I pick at my lunch (what could only be considered the world’s worst cheese platter), flick through recipes, and make a list for the week. Because saving money is the key, I decide to sample a new budget-busting pasta recipe from San Remo. I go for the suspiciously easy-looking Ready Pasta spaghetti with green beans, peas and walnuts.
Before heading home, I hit the supermarket and get everything on my list. This is easily the biggest shop I’ve done for months and with my reusable bags straining, I return home feeling virtuous.
As someone who regards new recipes with the same level of suspicion as I do telemarketers, I’m very impressed by the pasta. I have enough leftovers for lunch the next day and glow with a sense of pride possibly disproportionate to my achievement.
Leftovers Kind Of Rule
As the week rolls on, I find myself anticipating my lunches, made from last-night’s dinners, with genuine excitement. I also have more time to enjoy my breaks, because I’m happily freed from the lunchtime crowd queues. And, in the evenings, cooking has become less onerous because I know the ingredients are waiting at home.
The office coffee still sucks, though. I resent every grainy mouthful and long for creamy lattes and the short breaks that come with a trip to the cafe.
On Saturday, while eating yoghurt-topped mango and muesli, a replacement for my usual cafe brunch, I do a little maths: I’ve saved roughly $125 so far. Over the course of a year, that could add up to a trip to Europe or the States. I decide to use a bit of that money on a nice bottle of wine and invite a couple of friends over for dinner. Because San Remo didn’t let me down earlier in the week, this time I try their Baked Mac and Cheese with bacon and spinach. It looks like a crowd-pleaser and, frankly, if you don’t like mac and cheese, you’re no friend of mine.
My guests enjoy the meal so much that, sadly, there are no leftovers. They also politely refrain from mentioning that this is the first time in roughly a decade that I’ve deviated from the three meals I usually rely on for entertaining.
I make it to Sunday without breaking the challenge, but I finally succumb to temptation and buy a coffee from my local cafe. I sip it (feeling not one ounce of guilt) and reflect on how much easier than expected this week has been.
Yeah, I Cook Now
Like all things worth doing, kicking the take-away habit took a bit of preparation. But it paid off.
My week has had more structure and I’ve less stressful food-related decisions to make. Doing just one big shop at the supermarket, rather than lots of little visits to grab microwave meals, freed up a lot of my afternoon. It also stopped me from making unhealthy spontaneous purchases, which add up over the course of a week.
Amazingly, even after entertaining friends, the money I saved was significant. I can see myself adopting a lot of these habits long-term. All except one: you can pry barista-made coffees from my cold, dead hands.
This article originally appeared on Junkee.
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Nail your go-to recipes with San Remo’s Budget Busting collection.
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(Lead image: San Remo / supplied)