Some years back, a friend took it upon herself to tell me she thought I'd make an awful mother. I'm sure there was an itemized register tape of reasons why that might have been so at the time, but the one she cited simply floored me -- I bought store brand groceries. It wasn't even that the items were necessarily of inferior quality (though she hastened to add that she wouldn't really know, having never tried them herself), but rather that it made me "look poor" and that my hypothetical children would be taunted for that.
As it happens, I was poor -- or if not poor, at least painfully broke, having moved to New York in pursuit of an impractical dream*, unlikely to pay off in the short term. I had the luxury of youth and utter selfishness, with no dependents to feed, but certainly not that of being able to suffer appearances. Buying that box of name brand noodles would mean not having train fare to get to work. Once there, the small soup from the fancy next-door deli seemed like a splurge compared to the slightly more modestly priced vat from the steam table joint around the corner. But I happened to know that if I came around at the end of the lunch rush, the accompanying artisanally-baked half slices and packets of crackers were replaced by whole, pillowy sandwich rolls that would, if need be, sustain me until bedtime. I scrimped, pinched, and lived as close to the bone as I could. I nearly high-tailed it back to Kentucky once after having the week's remaining grocery money ($7) forcibly taken from me by a gang of teenagers, but managed to stand my ground.
After two years, my dedication paid off, and I was finally handed a paycheck that covered a bit more than the bare necessities. I took that surplus cash, marched right to the grocery store, and for the first time, grabbed a cart rather than a basket, and started sweeping in whatever looked delicious to me, regardless of price. Recognizable pastas, name brand soups, full priced juices -- who was calling whom poor now, huh?
Ya know what? As much as I was expecting, heck, aching for a noticeable flavor upgrade, it all tasted just the same as the store brand. The only thing that had been cheap was my friend's judgment. Lesson learned -- hopefully one she'll teach her own kids.
Read: Grocery Store Savings and share your stories and strategies in the comments below. We'll feature our favorites in an upcoming story on AOL Food.
*Call me when they start auditions for Metalsmithing Idol. I'm there, planishing hammer in hand.
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