Living in an Ingredients House
making it from scratch
Last year my older son, who was twelve at the time, asked me the age-old question: “Why can’t we have any normal food!?”
Like what? I asked.
He struggled to put into words his frustration and embarrassment about realizing that our house was somewhat different than those of his friends.
“Just… I don’t know - like, maybe we can have regular stuff.”
I raised my eyebrows, which frustrated him more.
“You know! My friends get good stuff for snacks, good stuff for dinner. Stuff in packages.”
Ah, stuff in packages! Not like in our house, where you have to make things from scratch - where you can’t count on a tasty snack after school, unless you want a banana or an apple, or maybe a slice of cheese…
It’s not that extreme, really. We do purchase packaged snacks - but not the right kind, according to our children. “Why are we always having to have the B-grade snacks?” they want to know, which always riles me, because B-grade is how they describe snacks from the health food store, which cost twice as much money as “A-grade” products such as Doritos, Gatorade and Skittles (because you have to pay extra to keep petrochemicals, artificial dyes and genetically modified organisms out of your food). And we do occasionally cave to demands for the “real stuff” - though the last time they consumed the bright blue Takis corn trumpets their poops came out green, which I think was a bit disturbing, even for them.
Apart from the occasional package of exorbitantly priced health store junk food, if you want something quick to eat in our house you are going to have to cook it, or at least assemble it: frozen blueberries with honey and plain yogurt from a local farm is a relatively low-effort choice. Or a bowl of Trader Joe’s “cheerios” with raw milk. Toast is also an option.
Our house, I learned recently, is what some kids call an “ingredients house”. To get the gist of this term, imagine a bunch of teenagers coming into a kitchen and rifling through all the cabinets, fridge and freezer, and finding only dry pasta, vegetables, raw chicken breast and frozen beef liver. “You can make chocolate chip cookies!”, the mother cheerfully suggests. (The teenagers are not amused.)
I like this concept of an “ingredients house”, as it can extend beyond the pantry: houses where you build things and plant things, learn to draw, practice an instrument, read a book (producing the story in your mind, rather than viewing it on a screen), maybe even sew or knit clothing.
Essentially, a house in which you learn skills in order to produce things yourself.
In America (and probably in many other countries as well), you learn from an early age that shopping is recreational and products are made by other people. When I was just learning to speak (my family tells me), I would sit in front of the television watching Brady Bunch, and when the toy commercials came on, I would stand up, touch the screen and say, “geddin’ it!”
This was particularly naive of me, since my father refused to purchase any toys that were directly marketed to children on the TV, but it certainly primed my psyche for today’s “one click” buying on the internet.
We are trained to be consumers, and if you aren’t careful, that means you will end up with a lot of stuff. And even if you like to make things, you will be offered various kits - which allow you make something yourself, while still purchasing a product.
Yes, there are products that I cannot make myself, which I consider worth buying. But I would guess that for many people, in a range of economic brackets, a large percent of purchases are purely recreational. Whether you go to your computer screen, or Target, or Walmart, or Dollar Tree, or Goodwill or Ikea or Williams Sonoma - or even some sort of ethically sourced, artisanally produced local crafts fair - you are highly likely to emerge with a certain number of things that you don’t need, and perhaps won’t even use. I speak from experience.
An ingredients house offers an antidote to this type of recreational consumerism, as it gives us other things to do with our time. It also gives an alternative to sitting in front of a screen, consuming content for entertainment. A frivolous purchase or a Netflix show now and again can be justified - but perhaps you are spending more money and time on these occupations than you care to spend.
What to do? First, get rid of all the superfluous stuff you have accumulated, and get your space ordered and clean. This will give you an incentive not to fill it back up with unnecessary items. Next, set yourself up a workspace (the kitchen table will do nicely, in a pinch). Then, use the internet, or handy books from your local library, to learn yourself a thing or two: want to play the clarinet? make fresh pasta? grow a medicinal herb and flower garden? Turn your house into an ingredients house, and you will no longer need to fill your idle hours with Netflix marathons and recreational shopping.
The money you save can be put in the bank, to be used for something good, rather than wasted on something unnecessary.
And the next time the teenagers come over, perhaps I will lock away all the screens and suggest that they put on a little play, or teach themselves violin for amusement - or maybe that would be taking things too far?
I love the descriptive term “ingredient house”. I grew up in one and created one. Not that there hasn’t been plenty of “geddin’ it” also, because there has. No matter which way you go, the end result can surprise: our oldest son likes to cook gourmet meals and definitely has an ingredient apartment, while our youngest son and family order out most meals. Your results may vary 😉. As for those teens, two suggestions: give in sometimes but have them make one of these two items: Rice Krispie treats or chocolate chip pizza cookies. A pizza cookie is simply the Toll House dough recipe split into two halves and spread onto 2 12” pizza pans and baked. It’s the multitudinous blobs of dough that makes them too lazy to do it. Also, a pizza cookie makes the best birthday “cake” and you can write on it with icing, if so inclined. Hope this periodically helps with the moaning and groaning of “can’t we be normal” over the next few years.