My American Pantry

I have a small closet in my kitchen, built into the space underneath the stairs. Already fitted with shelves when we moved in, it was obviously meant for a pantry. I was overjoyed. A real pantry instead of makeshift garage shelving! It didn't take long for me to fill it up, and I have my moments of annoyance that it seems too full when I come back from a shopping trip and have to find room for my spoils. It's such a pain that I have to spend time reorganizing it's contents every so often and things will migrate to the back corners so as not to be found when I need them.

There is a little girl in me, the echo of life past that lives in all of us. That little girl who was me remembers times when food was not so sure and varied, when Mom pretended not to be hungry so that her children could sleep with full bellies. That little girl, who is me still, sometimes opens that pantry door just to look. When I fight with my husband, lose a client, feel hurt by a friend, or wake in the middle of the night beset with nebulous fears, I open the door of my pantry and stand, not thinking about food or eating, I just look at the rows of jars, packages and cans. They are my shield and sword, my locked door against the night, my defense and my comfort when other sources fail me or are beyond my reach. The plenty soothes my fears, talks me down from my anger, strengthens my weak spirit.

Earlier today, I began a topic thread in an online cooking forum I frequent entitled, “Too much____in the pantry.” It was meant to be a fun topic, where forum members could commiserate about the means by which they end up having ten cans of cranberry sauce without meaning to or discover certain exotic food items (in a back corner) with which they haven't a clue what to do, not remembering why the purchase was made in the first place and offer up recipes to fellow sufferers to utilize the surplus items.

As fodder, I offered up my 3 large canisters of quick cooking oatmeal, which we don't use much of (why did I buy it??), preferring the longer cooking whole and cracked grain cereals and my 8 or 9 cans of potatoes that I stocked with a camping trip in mind, I suppose.

The replies to my topic came more quickly than any I had offered before. In a few hours, over 30 people had responded, mostly to admit their own odd hoards or to offer recipes with which I could use up mine. Several however, were suggestions that food banks would welcome donations of such superfluous items. As I always immediately transfer any item not in a can or jar into vermin-proof containers, I doubt a food bank would accept my oatmeal, but the cans of potatoes would be welcome. Why hadn't I thought of that??

I went to my pantry, to look for other items that might be of use to others if not to me and fell to just gazing over the stacks and rows of food. After a moment, my eyes fell on the cans of potatoes and the cans of beans next to them. The thought struck me that there were many people in the world to whom these homely, modest little cans of beans and potatoes would represent whole meals that they would be very glad to have while to me, half the cans (the potatoes) irritated me by taking up space and the other half (the beans) were simply there as a convenience for those times when I needed a quick side dish or couldn't be bothered to soak and then boil dried beans.

Counting the cans, I tried to calculate how many meals they might represent to someone who might consider my little hoard as bounty. Some 20 cans of beans and 8 or 9 of potatoes. For the sake of ease, I made it 30 cans altogether. Thirty stacked cans...perhaps a foot of shelf space. A can of beans and a can of potatoes each meal? I looked at the calorie contents of the cans. That would make a meal consisting of 585 calories. A bit of research tells me that the average, caloric intake per capita in Bangladesh is 2000, in Eritrea it is even less. The very meaning of the word “average” tells us that there are quite a few people in Bangladesh and Eritrea who would be quite happy to have my beans and potatoes. Three meals a day (if one could get them) at 585 calories each makes for 1755 calories, and 30 cans would supply those meals for 5 days. I have 5 days of human life stacked in a square foot of my pantry shelf space. A rough estimate tells me that I have at least 40 square feet of shelving in my pantry, and that doesn't count the floor space under the shelving...and I sometimes can't find room for items I bring home.

I am an enthusiastic, from-scratch cook, so aside from a few items of junk food (snack chips, Wylers freezer pops for Summer, CheezIts, canisters of Crystal Light), my pantry is stuffed full of staples. I joke that I could feed the neighborhood from my pantry in the case of disaster.

Moving over the shelves, away from the canned potatoes and beans, I see jar after jar of lentils, beans, nuts, seeds, and grains. Stacks of canned olives, tuna, tomatoes, tomato paste, smoked mussels and oysters, coconut milk, beef and chicken broth, grapefruit, oranges, pineapple, water chestnuts, bamboo shoots, baby corn, corned beef hash and the ever popular SPAM. Roasted red bell peppers, pepperoncini, capers, anchovies and sun dried tomatoes in oil. Boxes and bags of pastas, couscous, polenta. Large containers of different rices, flours, cornmeal and sugars. Baskets of potatoes (russets, red and Yukon gold), onions, red onions, shallots, garlic and a couple of large yams. Jugs of olive and vegetable oil, bottles of flavored vinegars (including my big jars of home made and nurtured red and white wine vinegars), a couple of cans of Crisco. 5 different kinds of dry cereal and more jars and jars of various hot cereal grains. Coffee beans, boxes of wine meant only for cooking. And spices. Jar after jar of spices. I dabble in several of the World's cuisines, and needs must have the basics to do so.

After all this, I get to the shelves of my home-canned foods. Tomato sauce, barbecue sauce, jams, marmalades, jellies, relishes, chutneys, pickled veggies, peaches, mincemeat.

Baking goods...yeast, cocoa (three different types), baking chocolate, soda, powder, salt, lard, flavor extracts, syrups, molasses, honey, and jars of chocolate chips and dried fruits.

Are you overwhelmed yet? I bet the Eritrean who would be glad of my beans and potatoes would be out cold by now. I don't say that to be flippant, either. I can imagine that someone who prays each night for the opportunity of busting their behind for as many hours as it will take to earn the meager share of grain and lentils that will keep his or her family alive for one more day would feint dead away were the contents of my pantry to be found, piled up around his or her cooking area upon waking.

It is interesting to note that when I began an internet search to discover the caloric needs of an adult, most of the initial results had to do with how to lose weight. I don't guess that question is of any interest to my Eritrean.

All of that food. And that's just my pantry! Don't worry, I won't get into listing the contents of my refrigerator. Then there is the garage freezer, which contains more beef, lamb, pork, poultry, fish, fruit and vegetables than I imagine my Eritrean could wrap his brain around.

Hard times. Yup. We Americans are going through hard times. They tell us that every day. Recession, Depression, Unemployment, Housing Crisis. Gloom, Despair and Agony! Thanksgiving is coming, and the holiday grocery bill will be higher than we like. Want a reason to be thankful? Spend a few minutes calculating. How many Eritreans could you feed out of your pantry? It worked for me.