Recently, there's been no shortage of foodie news responding to the economic crisis. Many of the ideas are elegant and inspired. At CBS News, a Bon Appetit contributing editor creates a $40 three-course meal for four. At gourmet.com, Francis Lam revives stale brioche (too precious to discard these days) with frangipane. Our own bloggers here at Slashfood have piped up, too. The common theme: cutting back, saving, pinching pennies.

I can definitely get down with all that. But aren't we foodies also in it for the luxury, the excess, the guilty pleasure of buying locally foraged mushrooms that are priced per ounce?

And if we don't tighten our belts? Are we to go for broke, munching on caviar and toast points with no thought for our savings and our future? Pesky economy! What's a food lover to do? Ought I take out a second mortgage and head to an exclusive truffle auction in France, or count my black beans?

There is, I am pleased to report, a third option. We can take our cues from Alice B. Toklas, who, during World War II in Vichy France, hadn't the option of splurging even if she wanted to (and boy did she want to). Strict rationing of sugar, meat, milk, eggs, and most everything else certainly changed mealtime around the food-besotted Toklas/Stein household.

Toklas's method of coping after the jump.


Her response? Pure fantasy. She writes in The Alice B. Toklas Cookbook, "I betook myself to the passionate reading of elaborate recipes in very large cookbooks. Through the long winter evenings close to the inadequate fire the recipes for food that there was no possibility of realizing held me fascinated." She then prints several of the unattainable recipes, including a "Tournedos Margot" replete with truffles, cream, and beef. By retreating often into the well-stocked larder of her imagination, Toklas could face horrors and deprivations of the Occupation.

I can get down with that. Pass me The French Laundry Cookbook, and I'll see you when the market turns around.