The Value of Value

An Exploration of Food

I had six months of unemployment (without unemployment pay) to get very strongly acquainted with money saving techniques. One was to carry scraps of paper around, write down anything I use regularly or anticipate needing soon, and stop at every grocery store I pass. I made a rule never to drive more than 1/4 mile out of my way, so I wouldn't waste gas.

At the store, I would jot down the price of the foods I regularly consume: Kamut Puffs, tofu, flatbread, peanut butter, soy milk, coconut milk drink, canned coconut milk, bananas, and apples. I would note the store name and repeat for each different store I passed. Eventually I learned where to find the bargains: Trader Joe's has bagged avocados, store brand firm sprouted tofu (the only kind I find palatable), and store brand coconut milk drink far cheaper than other stores even when I get a coupon. Whole Foods charges less for their organic bananas than I've found anywhere else. Kamut Puffs seem to be priced the same everywhere, but I get gas points at Stop and Shop and find the cheapest pure 100% peanut butter and canned coconut milk there. If I'm way out in Northborough, I can get a fantastic flatbread at Wegmans, as well as the cheapest artichokes I've ever seen at $0.89 each, if I feel like spoiling myself.

My most bizarre find was flax oil: an extremely expensive supplement, flax oil is the only treatment I can use to control my cholesterol levels, since being vegan didn't fix this genetically determined health issue, and a liver tumor prevents use of statins like Lipitor. Unfortunately, flax oil hasn't been popularized, so lack of competition means the price is unlikely to drop to affordable levels. When I scrape together enough to pay for it, I skip right past Whole Foods and go to Especially For Pets. Yes, you heard me right: if you read the label and get the right kind, the oil from the pet store is vegan, human grade, and cheaper per ounce.

The only catch in shopping for price is in areas of quality. Price comparison can tell us which brand, ounce for ounce, costs less, but what if we have to eat more of the cheaper one to get the same nutritional value? What if there are other factors, such as hidden food allergens? I'm fortunate not to be allergic to sulfites, however, I try to avoid them in case I'm cooking for a friend. Sulfites are one of the top 10 most common food allergens, and are not required to be listed: they can be included under the generic "preservatives" name. Many of these foods may be sulfite-free simply by default, but since they don't bother to record it accurately, people with the allergy have to pay two to three times as much to get organic or items labeled "sulfite free."

Other intangibles become obvious after you buy the food. I'm not even going to go into details on ethical shopping, since there are so very many articles out on why you shouldn't get your groceries at WalMart, but I will talk a bit about quality issues.

My most recent experience was with coconut milk.

I picked up a can of Native Forest organic coconut milk from the natural foods section in Stop and Shop. Strangely, it cost a little less than the one in the main section of the store. I stashed it in my fridge for the next time I had company for dessert, so I could make Whipped Coconut Cream. Later, I wandered the isles of Wegmans and found several different brands of coconut milk in different sections. I checked each to make sure it was not the "light" variety, made sure nothing was added to it in ingredients, and brought home the one with the lowest per-ounce price. This turned out to be the Grace brand.

How come whenever I try to open a coconut
it ends up in dozens of pieces all over the floor
instead of  as an elegant bowl shape?

After a few days, I removed both cans from my fridge and scooped out the cream to make my recipe. To my surprise, I discovered the Native Forest can was much thicker, with the cream leaving behind less than 1/4 can of water after separation, while the Grace brand left behind a can more than half filled with water! I suppose there are no industry set standards for coconut milk heaviness, but if I were to name the Grace brand, I would call it "light" or at least "medium light."

At least it wasn't a waste. I made nummy coconut-water rice.

In most recipes this probably would not be an issue. If I were to make chowder, a curry, or fudge, the Grace coconut milk would be adequate and would save me a bit of money. But it was enough of a wake up call to inspire me to start listing comparative prices and quality issues of my favorite items in my blog, so look out for product exposés.

Obama Accomplishments pt25: Artist Corps

Obama Administration Accomplishments List

Previous

• Accomplishment:  Created an artist corps for schools.


• What does it mean?
  As part of the Edward M. Kennedy Serve America Act, which President Obama signed on April 21, 2009, the Education Corps was required to provide "skilled musicians and artists to promote greater community unity through the use of music and arts education and engagement through work in low-income communities, and education, health care, and therapeutic settings, and other work in the public domain with citizens of all ages" (Pleva).

• Why does it matter?
  As I discuss in my National Endowments for the Arts post, art and music skills help with memorization, mathematical ability, and careers such as architecture. Additionally, the arts can help children work through trauma, according to Cora Dunham, by allowing them to release anger through music (Center for American Progress). Music can be a fantastic outlet, and children living in poverty, who may deal with far more challenges and frustrations, usually
  
  With an artist corps, children in poor areas will have greater access to skilled musicians and artists in order to experience and learn the arts. 

References

Center for American Progress. Artist Corps Informance. Center for American Progress. Web. 22 Apr. 2009.
Pleva, Lukas. Artist program included in Kennedy Serve America Act. Politifact. Web. 01 Dec. 2009.

Maths

It's no secret that my math skills are somewhat lackluster.

I could make the claim that I had crummy teachers during my early education, or that I'm very right-brained, and I'm sure both are some part of why I have so little math ability. But to be honest, the majority of the gap in my knowledge is simply because I dislike the subject. True, much of that dislike has to do with a fourth grade teacher who openly mocked me in front of the class when I struggled during a quiz, but if I had made the effort, I probably could have overcome my aversion. I simply decided it was easier to ignore the halfhearted efforts of my math teachers and concentrate my efforts on more interesting subjects.

I like to inflate my self-esteem by shifting the focus to my creative skills. My vindication for my pathetic inability to perform more than the most basic math skills was my amazing, award-winning novels. Okay, so my novels haven't won any awards yet. Okay again, so I haven't actually completed even my first novel. Regardless, I take pride in writing and proofing, as well as my rudimentary music and artistic skills, and I research continually to improve my grammar and word choice.

Still, there are moments I feel a pang of embarrassment about my preteen level math skills. Usually this happens when lack of sleep or distraction serves to emphasize my deficit in a noticeable way, such as by causing me to pause for an unreasonable span of time while making change for a customer. (During my good moments I usually can do simple addition and subtraction in my head, as well as a small amount of multiplication and division.) Usually, however, I succeed in camouflaging these pauses so no one realizes I'm secretly attempting to subtract $3.70 from $20.00, while pretending I'm really pausing to express interest in how their day went.

There are moments, still, when my ignorance is about as subtle as the giant Citgo sign glowering over Fenway. Today was a prime example of one of these moments. I surprised my dad with a hug, congratulating him on his five-year anniversary of remission. Later, my mom found me and, kindly, pointed out that 2012 - 2008 = four. Um. Oops.

My only consolation was that my father, the literal genius, with a bachelor of mathematics and habit of performing equations for entertainment, made the same mistake.

I decided the kind action was not to point out his mistake to him. After all, a math major messing up on simple subtraction is as embarrassing as an English major mixing up who and whom.

Oh wait: I do that all the time.