Your Pantry is a Superhero

Ingredients to Sustain Life on $2-10 (assuming your pantry is a superhero)
Cookies:
for your breakfast, snack, or health-ified sweet tooth
(I'm not kidding; these are actual edible things I made)

• whole lotta quick oats
• plain yogurt
• chocolate chips
• a tad of cocao powder
• spoonfuls of PB2 (original and/or choc. flavor)
• smidgen brown sugar
• splash almond milk

  

  This article? Really exists.

• some partially melted "butter," or what have you

Burgers:
for an actual meal

• lots of lentils
• yeah, quick oats
• so much quinoa
• can-a black beans
• peppers, whatever-- go apeshit with your leftover produce
• 1 egg
• let's say 2 TBS buckwheat flour
• spices, and lots of 'em
• some olive oil

Pancakes:
for an "F U" to those dumb "super skinny" "carb free" "pancakes" floating around Pinterest; because 2 eggs and a banana makes a CREPE, idiots

• 1 banana
• 1 egg
• get dat plain yogurt
• yeah, oats
• more *PB2
• protein powder-- amount dependent on how bad the protein powder tastes in relation to how many pounds you can deadlift
• a pinch of, like, whatever flour
• cinnamon!
• the dregs of your sugar-free maple syrup
• smidge of "butter," for cooking pancakes the right way
  
  *For any unfortunate misfits who still don't know what PB2 is:

  

  Click: "What's the Deal with Powdered Peanut Butter?"

   It is amazing.   Stop judging. 
  
  

Sides:

• brown rice!
• mixed with quinoa!
• because quinoa on its own is confusing, texturally and otherwise!
• kale
• plain yogurt (calcium is important, man; it's worth the cost of whatever the cheapest off-brand family size is at your local, savings-oriented grocery store)
• corn tortillas --> tortilla chips
• popcorn kernels (ain't none of that microwaveable sh*%-- I'm talkin' 99-cents of GOYA)

Instructions

Cookies: Put all of these things together in a bowl, in various experimental amounts, and stir/continue to add until the consistency reaches dough-ish enough. Plop onto a greased cookie sheet, in whatever haphazard ball-shaped size you want. Bake at probably 300-350 degrees F for, like, I don't know, 20 minutes.

They end up looking like this:

(No, they don't.)

Burgers: Cook, eh, a cup of lentils and a cup or so of quinoa. While they're doin' their thing, realize what you're doing: you're cooking lentils and quinoa for the purpose of making a burger. Do you get that? Do you see where I'm going with this? Good. Now, the lentils and ancient grain are probably done by now. Mix them together in a big bowl with the rest of the ingredients. Make sure your veggies are finely cut, because who likes inedible chunks. Coat your pan with cooking spray and some olive oil, then go to town skilleting these burger freaks.

Here's the final result:

(For sure, in your dreams)

Pancakes: Whip up all of the ingredients, except for the the maple syrup, in a food processor/blender/Bullet/Ninja. Coat a pan and cook like pancakes. Mix together plain yogurt and whatever's at the bottom of your maple syrup bottle for a delicious and less overwhelmingly sweet topping. You'll get caught with a supreme load of sweetness anyway, so let's at least try to take it down a notch?

Because the following is a photo on my blog, they have to look like this:

(Alright, seriously? I didn't even mention chocolate.)

What do you do when you're in between jobs-- and by "in between jobs" I mean you got another restaurant hosting job to hold you over until you start your well-paid nanny job in September because you thought you weren't making enough money at your old restaurant, but due to that whole training period with training wages thing you totally forgot about, plus those days you missed because you were sick, plus that whole week you missed because of the workshop of a new musical you did, you're really making way less money there-- and all of your tutoring clients are summering in the Hamptons; and Backstage and Wix both spring those damn yearly subscription fees on you out of nowhere? When you reach that sad, pathetic No Man's Land where your bank account will be well overdrawn if your landlord feels like cashing your rent check, which could happen any day now? When you have had 3 unpaid charges from your friends that have been sitting in Venmo for over a week, definitely making you "that guy?"

You raid your pantry.

In the past week, I have bought: 1 large container of plain yogurt, 2 corner grocery bell peppers, 1 bunch of kale, and the weak splurges of 2 boxes of on-sale cereal + a carton of almond milk and, heaven help me, a f*#$ing back of discount pretzel thins. That may seem like a fair amount in a week, so let me fill you in: I started with next to nothing--

Except the pantry.

The hot August air matched the stuffiness I felt in my own life: I was stuck. Trapped in a classic case of lower middle class New York City actor with the inability to spend a single dollar due to an overdrawn bank account threat. Classic. Money was as tight as a pair of cheap jeggings in July... Hey, when you're in a situation like mine, you can only think in metaphors. "Boy, this is a doozy, and a hungry one," I thought to myself, as I peered into the cavernous shadows of my nearly empty fridge. But then, I saw her--  fully stocked, bountiful, with goods for days. She called herself a pantry, and she gave me an idea. It was the kind of clear, tangible idea that clung to you like something real... a hearty plan of non-perishable goods. "What kind of poor kiddo does this kitchen take me for," I gloated. "I know my way around a pantry." That's right; I'd beat the system. Hell, I'd beat the whole damn world. And my pantry? No dame her size had beans like hers, flour for hours. She had everything I needed... or so I thought.

(I had to buy yogurt and kale. That was really it.)

Yes, for the last week I've been, I guess you could say, living in the shadows. Baking away a storm in my tiny kitchen to sustain my tiny body. I eat bountiful and nutritious staff dinners at work and throw healthy-ice-cream-making parties with friends to A. combine my pantry with their fridge&freezer and B. avoid going out and spending money. (C. when would I not throw an ice-cream-making party) When you lay low, and are honest with your friends about your financial situation, you can survive on very little. But need I say again that you must have one thing: various grains, flours, beans, lentils, baking ingredients, spices, popcorn, powdered peanut butter, chocolate chips, soup, Nutella, oats, oatmeal... one thing. A capital-P Pantry. Tell me your Pantry isn't a superhero and see what happens. Try me.*


*Follow Up: If you argue that your Pantry cannot defend you against the inevitable trust-fund-like amount of money it costs you to start dating someone, you will win.