Live Small and Prosper PT 2: It’s time for Frontier Stew

[Economists say the cost of food in Canada could jump by 8% in the coming months and stay that way for the next year. Breads, grains and cereals will rise the most, with the global costs of wheat, corn and soy increasing. Analysts say the cost of meat also will rise, because livestock consume the same grains.” - Food Prices Forecast To Rise, Mar. 21, London Free Press]

To stay alive, maybe McDonalds will make the Big Mac just a bit smaller.

Maybe Canadians will eat a meatless meal once per week. Maybe twice.


Maybe some will switch from Double Chocolate Oreos to McVitie’s Digestives. They are ‘The Original’ after all.

Maybe PM Harper will increase corporate taxes by 1 or 2 per cent and we’ll all live happily ever after.

What do you think? Any of those ideas stand a chance?

Here’s what I think. In order to survive, save a few dollars here and there, all Dads and Moms and kids over 14 need to learn how to make Frontier Stew. And I don’t mean heating up a tin from the corner Valu-Mart. I mean the real Frontier Stew. The stuff that early Canadians ate from a pail. The stuff that made this country strong.

Yes, we’ve had some downturns and recessions, many Thing$ are going North $$, The Leafs won’t make the playoffs, and we may have to throw a handful of oatmeal into our next batch of BBQ burgers - to stretch the ground chuck, you know what I’m saying - but deep in our genes lies the ability to make stew so fine it makes tinned stuff taste like the crap that it is.

(Admittedly, Puritan Irish Stew, with its preformed chunks of meat, passes muster while camping).

And not only can we make fine stew, we have the opportunity to save money in the process.


["Homemade saves money. Frontier Stew is in there!": photos GH]

Warning: A digression ahead.

Years ago, while shopping, I saw a pan of frozen lasagna on sale for $9.99, and for a brief moment I was tempted to buy it. Then I recalled what a pan of frozen lasagna tasted like at the last staff supper I attended. It was crappy stuff, especially compared to homemade. It lay there in the tinfoil pan like a wet pair of socks.

So, believe it or not, I stepped back and challenged the makers of Equity frozen lasagna to a duel.

“I bet I can whoop your skinny little butt,” I said (inside my little round head, of course) to the CEO of Equity Co.

I tore up my grocery list, turned my cart away from millions of dollars worth of prepared and frozen food and tracked down all the ingredients for fine lasagna.

Though my bill came to more than $9.99, I left the store certain in the belief I would whoop serious butt when I got home.

Stay tuned.

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Please click here to read Frontier Stew PT 1.

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