The oven clock said 2:40 last Sunday afternoon when the fourth pack of mince went into the big pan. Alfie came in for a biscuit, looked over the rim and asked who was coming for tea. Nobody, I said. It's for Monday to Thursday.
That's the Sunday sort-out at its most ambitious: two kilos of beef mince, one pan, about two hours with the radio on, and then four different teas out of it. Nobody notices they're eating the same sauce, or nobody apart from Isla. I wrote down every penny that week, so here's how it went.
Two hours in the big pan
The mince was four 500g packs of 12 per cent fat at £2.85 each, £11.40, bought at Aldi on the Wednesday before. The rest was three onions, four carrots and three sticks of celery (£1.45 between them), six tins of chopped tomatoes at 45p (£2.70), and £1.65 of tomato puree, garlic, stock cubes and a mug of red lentils. The lentils are my old trick for stretching mince. They melt into the sauce, and Alfie, who hates "bits", has never once found one. The whole pan came to £17.20.
Isla grated the carrots, which took her ten minutes and put about a third of them on the floor, where Mabel gave them a look and left them. I browned the mince in two lots so it fried rather than stewed, then everything went in together to simmer for an hour and ten minutes. At the end one tub got the stick blender, for Alfie. The rest stayed chunky.
I cooled it in shallow tubs on the back step, lids off, and put them in the fridge once they were properly cold. Two tubs stayed there for Monday and Tuesday. Two went in the freezer under the stairs for Wednesday and Thursday, and came out to defrost in the fridge overnight. I stick to the two-day rule for cooked mince in the fridge, but read your own guidance on that rather than taking my word.
Four different teas
- Monday: spaghetti and ragu. Grated cheese and carrot sticks. It was the bank holiday, so we were all home and Rob had the pasta on with a tea towel over his shoulder like a proper chef. Extra cost £1.45.
- Tuesday: jacket potatoes with ragu and cheese. Sweetcorn on the side. Isla has Brownies on Tuesday evenings, so tea at 5:30 has to arrive on time. The microwave starts the potatoes and the oven crisps the skins while I find her uniform. Extra £1.70.
- Wednesday: lasagne. Sheets, a white sauce, more cheese and a bag of salad nobody touched. Rob had his at 9:40 after five-a-side, cold from the fridge, which he swears is the best way. Extra £3.10.
- Thursday: chilli and rice. Two tins of kidney beans, a teaspoon of chilli powder and one of cumin. Extra £1.50.
What didn't land
The white sauce on Wednesday had lumps. I'd made it while unpacking the shopping, and it went from smooth to porridge when Jean knocked with a parcel she'd taken in for us and stayed for a chat. Under the cheese nobody could tell, which is what cheese is for.
Thursday was the flop. Isla looked at her bowl and said, "Is this the same stuff?" "It's chilli." "It's the same stuff, with beans." That's fair, and I've no defence. Alfie had plain pasta with a spoonful from his smooth tub and called it "the nice one", so at least one of us was convinced there were four different sauces.
Rob, who normally likes a bit of variety, didn't grumble once, though I noticed he went back for seconds of the spaghetti on Monday and not at all on Thursday. A man who eats a lasagne at 9:40 at night isn't fussy, but he does have a limit, and it's chilli with beans in.
Next time the fourth tea will be the plainest, not the cleverest. Something that doesn't try to hide where it came from, like the ragu stirred through macaroni with cheese on top and grilled until it's crusty. Kids will forgive a repeat if it comes back with a crust. That's the plan for the pan I'm stirring today.
The sums: £17.20 for the pan and £7.75 for everything that went with it, £24.95 for sixteen plates. That's £1.56 a plate, a few pence under the £1.65 I usually land on, for two hours of a Sunday and a freezer that was back to normal by Friday.
