Life on the breadline

SHOPPING sensibly for a week’s groceries for a family of four is one thing. Shopping sensibly for that family on a ripcord tight budget is quite another. Stressful would be a good word.

A look at my entire budget for the week — just over €400 (see accompanying social welfare figures, right) — and it’s painfully obvious I daren’t exceed €180 on groceries.

I enter the supermarket with trepidation.

To anybody on a decent salary, the 40c or so difference in price between a kilogramme of organic carrots (€1.99) compared to a bag of the ordinary, non-organic kind (€1.58) wouldn’t be huge. But with my tight margins, I decide to pass on the organic foods.

Next comes the first real eye- opener. Instead of whizzing along, grabbing the usual high-quality, luxuriously priced branded seed breads, sodas, white loaves, naans, pitta pockets and scones from the shelves, I step back and look.

Own brand brown sodas are 69c — about half the price of my usual favourite high fibre brown. At 49c the own brand white sliced is about a third of the price of the usual white sliced loaf. The regular family weekend treat of croissants — at 45c each for a plain and €1.05 for chocolate — is clearly a luxury we have to do without, along with naan breads and pitta pockets.

The kids are disappointed so I allow for a litre of orange juice, but insist on the own brand kind, which costs 99c, instead of their premium favourite, retailing at nearly three times the price at €2.89.

On to the jams, and instead of grabbing something that looks nice, for once I closely examine the prices on display.

The store has a special — two pots of Chivers for €2.50. Well, that’s a no-brainer when you compare that to €2.45 for the jar of snooty strawberry conserve beside it.

On to the pasta. A Sunday newspaper article on pasta sauces comes to mind. Some chefs taste some commercial varieties and advise people to make their own with tomatoes, garlic, chilli and a handful of olives. Easy, tastier and, you’re led to understand, possibly cheaper.

Well, not if you’re on social welfare and the only olives on offer cost €4.19 for 150g, compared to a jar of own brand pasta sauce at €1.19. True, it may be as authentic or nice, but it’s a hell of a lot cheaper.

Having turned down the croissants and ignored pleas for a giant tin of hot chocolate, along with Nutella for the planned pancakes — we’d be sticking to lemon juice and sugar — I succumbed at the ice cream freezer, where they wanted mint choc. I went for the own brand at €1.99, instead of the favourite at €3.30.

The whole family needed toothbrushes to replace the down-trodden, semi-hairless array on the bathroom shelf at home. Once again, I went for the cheapest on display, but at €1.99 each they still came to €8.00 and left me wondering whether I should have bothered. As I bought the meat and fish — costing under €8, four mackerel made for a cheap and nourishing dinner — I found myself planning each meal far more strategically than usual. A quick glance at the breakfast cereals cheered me up. There was no need to invest in these wildly expensive foods — 600g of Kellogs Coco Pops costs €4.03, compared to €1.93 for a kilogramme of porridge, which is cheaper, healthier and goes a long way.

Despite my best efforts, the food shopping, including one cheap bottle of plonk, still cost just under €190. Must do better next week.

We ate boiled bacon and cabbage one day. The next, the rest of the admittedly large joint of bacon went into the school sandwiches and a pasta sauce bulked out with vegetables. We ate mackerel, pork chops, and chicken korma with rice, no naan. We had pancakes, and I made a traditional Irish dish, Dublin Coddle with sausages, rashers, potatoes and onions.

The food shopping lasted comfortably through the week, but money was tight. One member of the family developed a chest infection, and ended up going to the doctor, an expense which was thankfully covered by our medical card.

Although I needed a new winter jacket and a pair of boots there was no money for either. A child’s birthday was a major expense — we bought a present for €30 and the sweets, homemade Rice Krispie buns and a simple birthday cake for the party itself cost just over €30.

Week Two dawned as I entered the supermarket with one aim — get the shopping down to below €180. By cutting out the bottle of plonk and the ice cream, and waking up about the milk, I was able to save money. A two litre jug of own brand milk cost €1.19 — a big reduction on my usual branded selection at €1.74 for two litres. I got the bacon again, the Dublin Coddle ingredients, some chicken and pork, extra eggs for omelettes — I bought free range, for a little luxury.

The grocery shopping cost just under €175 and again lasted comfortably through the week.

We were doing well with about €70 to play around with for the rest of the week until the youngest child arrived home with a letter from the school — €43 for the term’s swimming lessons.

Then the electric kettle broke, costing €9.95 to replace.

My verdict: you can just about live on the allowance, as long as you don’t smoke, drink, need new clothes, fancy food or drive a car. There’s literally nothing left over for emergencies.