My latest Money Crashers article covers something I've never actually tried myself: zero-interest balance transfers. Actually, I've never used any sort of credit card balance transfer, because I've never had a balance to transfer. I'm what the credit card companies call a "deadbeat"—someone who always pays off her balance in full every month. For me, credit cards aren't really a way to borrow money; they're just a more convenient way to use it.
However, if I did have a credit card balance, I would certainly be intrigued by the possibility of using a zero-interest balance transfer to pay it off. With these offers, you move debt from your current, high-interest card to a new card and pay no interest at all on it for up to a year and a half. This makes it easier to pay off the debt faster, ideally allowing you to eliminate it before your zero-interest period expires.
Of course, there's a catch—several, actually. My article examines these in detail and then explores ways to avoid the pitfalls and turn zero-interest balance transfers to your advantage. Read it here: How to Use 0% Balance Transfer Credit Cards Responsibly
Tuesday, July 31, 2018
Monday, July 30, 2018
Our not-so-plastic-free July
Well, we've just about come to the end of July, so I figured it was time for an update on my attempt at the Plastic-Free July challenge. Spoiler alert: It didn't go so well.
Over the course of this month, I've been much more aware of single-use plastic in my life than usual. Every time I bought something packed in plastic, or otherwise ended up acquiring a disposable plastic item, I felt bad about it—but in most cases, the only alternative was going without the item the plastic was wrapped around, and that felt even worse. So I'd say my overall plastic use in the past four weeks has altered little, if at all.
Here's a rough listing of all the items that brought plastic waste into our home during our not-so-plastic-free July, along with the few relatively trivial plastic items we've managed to avoid.
Produce
In theory, this should have been an easy one, right? After all, we're getting a lot of produce out of the garden right now—zucchini, the last of the lettuce, some early tomatoes—and our local farmers' market is open every Friday, so I should have been able to pick up everything from there. Right?
Well, in theory, we could have managed that. What we didn't grow ourselves came mostly from the H-Mart and the Whole Earth Center, where most produce is sold loose in bins, so we could use our mesh produce bags or reused plastic ones. When I bought peaches at the farmers' market, I deliberately chose the smaller basket that didn't come lined with a plastic bag, even though the peaches cost more that way per pound; when we picked out cabbage at H-Mart, we went for the slightly pricier white cabbage, rather than the green cabbage that came wrapped in cling-film.
The problem is that, fairly early in the month, our local Stop&Shop put cherries on sale for just $1.77 a pound—but they were sold in a big, zip-top plastic bag. So to avoid the bag, I'd have to forego the cherries. Um, sorry, no. In fact, over the course of the month, I bought three bags of them, and I can't honestly say I regret it. And the bags are marked as #5 plastic, which means they can go in the bag recycling bin at Stop&Shop—so it's not really that bad, is it?
Compounding our sin, we also picked up a bag of Brussels sprouts at Trader Joe's—and that one wasn't even recyclable. But they weren't selling the sprouts on the stalk the way they sometimes do, and how could we pass up the chance of having our favorite Roasted Brussels Sprouts?
Protein Foods
The only meat we bought during July was some free-range chicken drumsticks from Trader Joe's. These come on a Styrofoam tray, covered in a plastic wrapper—but so does chicken pretty much everywhere else. I guess if we'd gone to the Amish market instead, we could have avoided the foam tray, but they'd still have been in a plastic bag—and we'd have had to make a special trip for the purpose. Isn't it likely that the gas burned for that trip would have caused more environmental harm than one little foam tray?
Most of the other protein foods we bought in July were plastic-wrapped, as well. For instance, we bought a pound of shredded mozzarella at Aldi, which came in a plastic bag—but again, I've never seen any cheese for sale that didn't have some form of plastic wrapping. And while we actually tried making our own mozzarella once, it didn't come out very well, and it cost a lot more than buying it.
Eggs are a different matter. They're available in both plastic cartons and cardboard ones, so in theory we should have chosen cardboard—but for us, it's a much higher priority to buy eggs that are Certified Humane. We find the best prices for these at H-Mart, where the eggs invariably come in plastic cartons. So for us, humane trumps sustainably packaged—assuming that cardboard even is more sustainable than lighter-weight, recyclable plastic.
We also bought some tofu at H-Mart, where it's sold in plastic cartons with a peel-off plastic top. The carton is recyclable, but the top is not. I guess if we'd really been on the ball, we could have planned ahead and gotten the tofu at the Whole Earth Center, where blocks of it are stored in a big vat of water—but we'd still have had to use a plastic bag to get it home.
Even dry chick peas, which would normally be an ecofrugal no-brainer as protein sources go, were a problem for this challenge, packed as they were in a plastic bag. We could have chosen canned beans instead, but when you consider the added cost and shipping weight of the cans, the dry beans looked more ecofrugal to me, bag and all. Again, I suppose if we'd been really dedicated we could have bought them from the bulk bins at Whole Earth, but they'd probably have cost us more than the canned ones.
Beverages
The biggest item in our plastic recycling bin these days is milk jugs. The Plastic Free July site suggested avoiding these by buying milk in "waxed card" cartons, but that's not really an option around here, where the cardboard cartons are lined with plastic and non-recyclable. We could have relied on powdered milk for the month of July, but these days it comes in a non-recyclable plastic bag rather than a cardboard box—and it's more expensive than fresh. The only way to avoid plastic altogether, short of giving up milk, would have been to buy outrageously expensive, full-fat milk in a glass bottle from Whole Earth—and even that comes with a plastic top. So we stuck with our trusty, recyclable plastic jugs.
We applied the same logic with orange juice. The plastic bottles we buy OJ in are recyclable, while frozen OJ comes in non-recyclable, plastic-lined cardboard tubes. The frozen stuff is also pricier and not as tasty. So to avoid plastic, we would have had to either go without OJ for a month or squeeze our own, at considerable cost and effort, from out-of-season fruit shipped halfway around the world.
There was one beverage item we bought, however, that I did consider to be an example of "stupid plastic." My favorite herbal tea is Bengal Spice from Celestial Seasonings, which is in most respects a very eco-conscious brand. They boast in their FAQ that their herbs are sustainably sourced, their boxes are recyclable cardboard, the tea bags are compostable, and they eschew wasteful strings, tags, and staples. So tell me why, exactly, does this otherwise exemplary product come wrapped in a non-recyclable plastic wrapper? Grr. I've actually written to the company about this, but given that they've been at it for at least eight years, I don't expect them to stop now. Unfortunately, even if I could find another brand that was completely plastic-free, there's no other herbal tea blend I've found that tastes anything like Bengal Spice. I would try making my own, but the ingredients include roasted chicory and roasted carob, and I don't know where I'd get those.
Other Groceries
Produce, protein, and beverage items were far from the only offenders in our grocery cart. In fact, at pretty much every time we went to the store, we ended up with at least one item in a plastic wrapper. But once again, going through the list, I'm not convinced that going out of our way to avoid these items would actually have been the ecofrugal choice in most cases.
We had mixed success with avoiding plastic while eating out. For instance, on our anniversary, we had lunch at The Salad and Smoothie Market in Princeton, which is very strong on sustainability. Our salad (we just shared one, since the portions are so generous) was served in a cardboard box, and we reused a plastic fork that I was carrying in my purse. So we produced no plastic waste on that occasion.
But then, two days later, we went to the annual Birthday Show at the Minstrel concert series, and instead of its usual paper plates and cups, the venue had switched to Styrofoam. Maybe if I'd known about this ahead of time, I would have brought my own mug for my tea (though it's not so easy to carry a big thing like that around), but the birthday cake had already been dished out onto the Styrofoam plates, so the only way to avoid this plastic waste would have been to skip the cake—which was clearly not an acceptable option.
Likewise, when we went shopping at the H-Mart, we could not bring ourselves to pass up all the tasty free samples just because many of them were dished up in little plastic cups. (We did, at least, bring the cups home for recycling instead of tossing them in the trash.)
As for my nifty new DIY straw sleeve, I still haven't had a chance to try it. Every time I thought about going out for a to-go drink, I remembered that I was supposed to be avoiding to-go cups as well as straws, so I ended up heading sadly home without one. The one time I actually thought ahead and brought a reusable cup with me, I ended up not using it because it was so hot out that I decided to head straight home rather than walking a little further to pick up a drink. So I only managed to avoid to-go cups by completely eschewing to-go drinks, which isn't something I'd want to do all year long.
Medicine and Personal Care Items
Plastic also came into our house by way of the drugstore. For instance, I brought home two medications—clindamycin lotion for my face and lansoprazole for my tummy—that were only available in (recyclable) plastic containers. The only way to avoid them would have been to go without the medications, against my doctor's orders, and I didn't think that was a good idea.
We also bought a couple of personal care items packaged in plastic: shampoo for Brian and conditioner for me. In theory, we could have found alternatives to these, but not good ones. For instance, instead of a pump bottom of shampoo, we could have bought Dr. Bronner's liquid soap from the bulk bins at Whole Earth. However, Brian's tried washing his hair with this before, and it made his head itch, so it's not a very satisfactory option.
Likewise, I've tried various homemade alternatives to conditioner over the years, such as vinegar rinses, baking soda, and straight coconut oil, and none of them worked at all well. I did a little additional research on the subject this month and found an article proposing coconut milk as a good conditioner for curls, so I tried some, but it left my hair limp and slightly greasy. (It did make a nice shaving balm, though.) So once again, the only alternative would have been to go without, and that would have made my hair, and me, miserable.
The Bottom Line
My takeaway from this experience: for most people, avoiding single-use plastic simply isn't practical. If a moderately hard-core environmentalist like me—someone who writes a whole blog about living green, for crying out loud—found this to be too much work, there's pretty much no hope that the average consumer can be convinced to do it.
In short, I simply don't think it's fair or reasonable to put the burden on individual consumers to solve the problem of plastic waste. Dealing with the problem is going to require changing the system that's made these plastics so pervasive.
Scientific American came to much the same conclusion in a July 6 blog entry, saying, "It’s true that plastic pollution is a huge problem, of planetary proportions. And it’s true we could all do more to reduce our plastic footprint. The lie is that blame for the plastic problem is wasteful consumers and that changing our individual habits will fix it."
The piece also argues that efforts to get consumers to recycle plastic are little more than a smokescreen, once again shifting the focus toward consumer behavior and away from manufacturers' responsibility to make their products and packaging sustainable. Real change, the author posits, will take the form of laws that either ban or discourage the use of single-use plastics (bags, straws, etc.) and promote recycling and reuse.
None of this is to say that we consumers shouldn't reduce our plastic use when we can, and recycle when we can't. Choices like passing up plastic straws and opting for minimally packaged products, if enough people make them, can actually have an impact on the market as a whole, driving more manufacturers toward sustainable production. But driving ourselves nuts trying to live a zero-waste lifestyle isn't likely to do as much good, in the long run, as pushing our lawmakers—local, state, and national—for changes that will actually have a broad impact.
Speaking for myself, I'm planning to carry on reusing my drinking straws, taking reusable to-go containers to restaurants when I can, and opting for products with less packaging when all other things are truly equal. But beyond this low-hanging fruit, I'm not going to beat myself up about the amount of waste I "produce" when it's really the structure of our society that's at fault. Instead, I'm going to focus more on trying to change the system—writing to legislators, talking to friends, and making as much noise as this small-scale blog will allow.
True, if I write an article here about something that may be a tiny piece of the solution—a new bill to reduce packaging waste, for instance, or a company that's shifting toward sustainability, or a new technique that could make plastic recycling more practical—maybe only 50 people will see it. But if every one of those 50 people tells 10 more, and each of them tells 10 more, and so on, then maybe we'll actually start to get somewhere.
Over the course of this month, I've been much more aware of single-use plastic in my life than usual. Every time I bought something packed in plastic, or otherwise ended up acquiring a disposable plastic item, I felt bad about it—but in most cases, the only alternative was going without the item the plastic was wrapped around, and that felt even worse. So I'd say my overall plastic use in the past four weeks has altered little, if at all.Here's a rough listing of all the items that brought plastic waste into our home during our not-so-plastic-free July, along with the few relatively trivial plastic items we've managed to avoid.
Produce
In theory, this should have been an easy one, right? After all, we're getting a lot of produce out of the garden right now—zucchini, the last of the lettuce, some early tomatoes—and our local farmers' market is open every Friday, so I should have been able to pick up everything from there. Right?
Well, in theory, we could have managed that. What we didn't grow ourselves came mostly from the H-Mart and the Whole Earth Center, where most produce is sold loose in bins, so we could use our mesh produce bags or reused plastic ones. When I bought peaches at the farmers' market, I deliberately chose the smaller basket that didn't come lined with a plastic bag, even though the peaches cost more that way per pound; when we picked out cabbage at H-Mart, we went for the slightly pricier white cabbage, rather than the green cabbage that came wrapped in cling-film.
Compounding our sin, we also picked up a bag of Brussels sprouts at Trader Joe's—and that one wasn't even recyclable. But they weren't selling the sprouts on the stalk the way they sometimes do, and how could we pass up the chance of having our favorite Roasted Brussels Sprouts?
Protein Foods
The only meat we bought during July was some free-range chicken drumsticks from Trader Joe's. These come on a Styrofoam tray, covered in a plastic wrapper—but so does chicken pretty much everywhere else. I guess if we'd gone to the Amish market instead, we could have avoided the foam tray, but they'd still have been in a plastic bag—and we'd have had to make a special trip for the purpose. Isn't it likely that the gas burned for that trip would have caused more environmental harm than one little foam tray?
Most of the other protein foods we bought in July were plastic-wrapped, as well. For instance, we bought a pound of shredded mozzarella at Aldi, which came in a plastic bag—but again, I've never seen any cheese for sale that didn't have some form of plastic wrapping. And while we actually tried making our own mozzarella once, it didn't come out very well, and it cost a lot more than buying it.
Eggs are a different matter. They're available in both plastic cartons and cardboard ones, so in theory we should have chosen cardboard—but for us, it's a much higher priority to buy eggs that are Certified Humane. We find the best prices for these at H-Mart, where the eggs invariably come in plastic cartons. So for us, humane trumps sustainably packaged—assuming that cardboard even is more sustainable than lighter-weight, recyclable plastic.
We also bought some tofu at H-Mart, where it's sold in plastic cartons with a peel-off plastic top. The carton is recyclable, but the top is not. I guess if we'd really been on the ball, we could have planned ahead and gotten the tofu at the Whole Earth Center, where blocks of it are stored in a big vat of water—but we'd still have had to use a plastic bag to get it home.
Even dry chick peas, which would normally be an ecofrugal no-brainer as protein sources go, were a problem for this challenge, packed as they were in a plastic bag. We could have chosen canned beans instead, but when you consider the added cost and shipping weight of the cans, the dry beans looked more ecofrugal to me, bag and all. Again, I suppose if we'd been really dedicated we could have bought them from the bulk bins at Whole Earth, but they'd probably have cost us more than the canned ones.
Beverages
The biggest item in our plastic recycling bin these days is milk jugs. The Plastic Free July site suggested avoiding these by buying milk in "waxed card" cartons, but that's not really an option around here, where the cardboard cartons are lined with plastic and non-recyclable. We could have relied on powdered milk for the month of July, but these days it comes in a non-recyclable plastic bag rather than a cardboard box—and it's more expensive than fresh. The only way to avoid plastic altogether, short of giving up milk, would have been to buy outrageously expensive, full-fat milk in a glass bottle from Whole Earth—and even that comes with a plastic top. So we stuck with our trusty, recyclable plastic jugs.
We applied the same logic with orange juice. The plastic bottles we buy OJ in are recyclable, while frozen OJ comes in non-recyclable, plastic-lined cardboard tubes. The frozen stuff is also pricier and not as tasty. So to avoid plastic, we would have had to either go without OJ for a month or squeeze our own, at considerable cost and effort, from out-of-season fruit shipped halfway around the world.
There was one beverage item we bought, however, that I did consider to be an example of "stupid plastic." My favorite herbal tea is Bengal Spice from Celestial Seasonings, which is in most respects a very eco-conscious brand. They boast in their FAQ that their herbs are sustainably sourced, their boxes are recyclable cardboard, the tea bags are compostable, and they eschew wasteful strings, tags, and staples. So tell me why, exactly, does this otherwise exemplary product come wrapped in a non-recyclable plastic wrapper? Grr. I've actually written to the company about this, but given that they've been at it for at least eight years, I don't expect them to stop now. Unfortunately, even if I could find another brand that was completely plastic-free, there's no other herbal tea blend I've found that tastes anything like Bengal Spice. I would try making my own, but the ingredients include roasted chicory and roasted carob, and I don't know where I'd get those.
Other Groceries
Produce, protein, and beverage items were far from the only offenders in our grocery cart. In fact, at pretty much every time we went to the store, we ended up with at least one item in a plastic wrapper. But once again, going through the list, I'm not convinced that going out of our way to avoid these items would actually have been the ecofrugal choice in most cases.
- Whipped Cream. We now know how to recycle whipped cream cans, but not the little plastic nozzle and valve in the top. But even so, we consider buying whipped cream in this form less wasteful than buying a (non-recyclable) pint carton of fresh cream and whipping our own, since it all has to be used within a week or two before it goes bad (and costs more to boot).
- Popcorn. We picked up three bags of organic popcorn in bags at Trader Joe's. In theory, we could have bought some from the bulk bins at the Whole Earth Center instead, even though it's much more expensive; the problem is, they don't always have it, so taking a chance on it could have meant going without my regular afternoon snack.
- Peanuts. Just as my snack of choice is popcorn, Brian's is peanuts. We buy these in plastic jars at Aldi, and we recycle the jars. I have actually seen peanuts sold in bulk bins, with the skin on, at H-Mart, but they're not roasted, so we'd have to toast them at home, which would make them a lot less convenient as a snack. And there are roasted organic peanuts in the bulk bins at Whole Earth, but as with most things, they're more expensive.
- Chocolate Chips. The only place I've seen chocolate chips that weren't sold in plastic bags was in the bulk bins at Whole Earth, and those weren't just expensive, they were ludicrously expensive—over $12 a pound. It would be cheaper to buy foil-wrapped chocolate bars and just chip off pieces, but a lot more work.
- Marshmallows. My impulse purchase at Trader Joe's was a bag of marshmallows, since TJ's is the only place I've seen that has vegetarian ones at a decent price. I've never seen any marshmallows, vegetarian or otherwise, that weren't sold in plastic bags, so if we hadn't bought these, we'd have had to try making our own—a messy and uncertain process—or go without s'mores.
- Gnocchi. This was another plastic-wrapped TJ's item that, in theory, we could have made at home. However, doing that would have defeated the main purpose of buying it, which is to have a quick meal ready to hand for emergencies. We could have just skipped it until July was over, but really, what's the point if all you're doing is delaying a plastic purchase rather than avoiding it?
- Pita Bread. Although Brian bakes most of our bread at home, he wanted pita bread to go with some falafel he was making. He's tried baking his own pita without success, so if we couldn't buy the pitas, we probably wouldn't have been able to have this low-carbon, vegetarian meal.
- Toilet Paper. We buy this by the dozen at TJ's because it's both cheaper than any other brand and made from recycled paper. I know it's possible to buy individual rolls of toilet paper packaged in paper wrappers, but it costs a lot more, and it's not recycled. Is that really better for the environment?
- Ginger Mints. The Organic Ginger Mints from Newman's Own, another allegedly eco-conscious company, had the same problem as the herbal tea. They're made of all organic ingredients and packaged in a recyclable (or reusable) metal tin—which is then wrapped in plastic. Why? I'm actually annoyed enough about this that I might venture to try making my own mints at some point, if I can find a suitable recipe. (I've got plenty of tins to store them in, since they're so cute I can't bear to throw them out.)
We had mixed success with avoiding plastic while eating out. For instance, on our anniversary, we had lunch at The Salad and Smoothie Market in Princeton, which is very strong on sustainability. Our salad (we just shared one, since the portions are so generous) was served in a cardboard box, and we reused a plastic fork that I was carrying in my purse. So we produced no plastic waste on that occasion.
But then, two days later, we went to the annual Birthday Show at the Minstrel concert series, and instead of its usual paper plates and cups, the venue had switched to Styrofoam. Maybe if I'd known about this ahead of time, I would have brought my own mug for my tea (though it's not so easy to carry a big thing like that around), but the birthday cake had already been dished out onto the Styrofoam plates, so the only way to avoid this plastic waste would have been to skip the cake—which was clearly not an acceptable option.
Likewise, when we went shopping at the H-Mart, we could not bring ourselves to pass up all the tasty free samples just because many of them were dished up in little plastic cups. (We did, at least, bring the cups home for recycling instead of tossing them in the trash.)
As for my nifty new DIY straw sleeve, I still haven't had a chance to try it. Every time I thought about going out for a to-go drink, I remembered that I was supposed to be avoiding to-go cups as well as straws, so I ended up heading sadly home without one. The one time I actually thought ahead and brought a reusable cup with me, I ended up not using it because it was so hot out that I decided to head straight home rather than walking a little further to pick up a drink. So I only managed to avoid to-go cups by completely eschewing to-go drinks, which isn't something I'd want to do all year long.
Medicine and Personal Care Items
Plastic also came into our house by way of the drugstore. For instance, I brought home two medications—clindamycin lotion for my face and lansoprazole for my tummy—that were only available in (recyclable) plastic containers. The only way to avoid them would have been to go without the medications, against my doctor's orders, and I didn't think that was a good idea.
We also bought a couple of personal care items packaged in plastic: shampoo for Brian and conditioner for me. In theory, we could have found alternatives to these, but not good ones. For instance, instead of a pump bottom of shampoo, we could have bought Dr. Bronner's liquid soap from the bulk bins at Whole Earth. However, Brian's tried washing his hair with this before, and it made his head itch, so it's not a very satisfactory option.
Likewise, I've tried various homemade alternatives to conditioner over the years, such as vinegar rinses, baking soda, and straight coconut oil, and none of them worked at all well. I did a little additional research on the subject this month and found an article proposing coconut milk as a good conditioner for curls, so I tried some, but it left my hair limp and slightly greasy. (It did make a nice shaving balm, though.) So once again, the only alternative would have been to go without, and that would have made my hair, and me, miserable.
The Bottom Line
My takeaway from this experience: for most people, avoiding single-use plastic simply isn't practical. If a moderately hard-core environmentalist like me—someone who writes a whole blog about living green, for crying out loud—found this to be too much work, there's pretty much no hope that the average consumer can be convinced to do it.
In short, I simply don't think it's fair or reasonable to put the burden on individual consumers to solve the problem of plastic waste. Dealing with the problem is going to require changing the system that's made these plastics so pervasive.
Scientific American came to much the same conclusion in a July 6 blog entry, saying, "It’s true that plastic pollution is a huge problem, of planetary proportions. And it’s true we could all do more to reduce our plastic footprint. The lie is that blame for the plastic problem is wasteful consumers and that changing our individual habits will fix it."
The piece also argues that efforts to get consumers to recycle plastic are little more than a smokescreen, once again shifting the focus toward consumer behavior and away from manufacturers' responsibility to make their products and packaging sustainable. Real change, the author posits, will take the form of laws that either ban or discourage the use of single-use plastics (bags, straws, etc.) and promote recycling and reuse.
None of this is to say that we consumers shouldn't reduce our plastic use when we can, and recycle when we can't. Choices like passing up plastic straws and opting for minimally packaged products, if enough people make them, can actually have an impact on the market as a whole, driving more manufacturers toward sustainable production. But driving ourselves nuts trying to live a zero-waste lifestyle isn't likely to do as much good, in the long run, as pushing our lawmakers—local, state, and national—for changes that will actually have a broad impact.
Speaking for myself, I'm planning to carry on reusing my drinking straws, taking reusable to-go containers to restaurants when I can, and opting for products with less packaging when all other things are truly equal. But beyond this low-hanging fruit, I'm not going to beat myself up about the amount of waste I "produce" when it's really the structure of our society that's at fault. Instead, I'm going to focus more on trying to change the system—writing to legislators, talking to friends, and making as much noise as this small-scale blog will allow.
True, if I write an article here about something that may be a tiny piece of the solution—a new bill to reduce packaging waste, for instance, or a company that's shifting toward sustainability, or a new technique that could make plastic recycling more practical—maybe only 50 people will see it. But if every one of those 50 people tells 10 more, and each of them tells 10 more, and so on, then maybe we'll actually start to get somewhere.
Sunday, July 29, 2018
Money Crashers: How to Deal with a Lying Spouse – Financial Infidelity in Marriage
Once again, my latest Money Crashers article is about a subject I hope you'll never have to deal with personally: financial infidelity. This term refers to lying or keeping secrets about money from your partner—and just like regular infidelity, it's a matter of degree. Minor transgressions, like concealing a small purchase or fudging about the price, are kind of the equivalent of flirting with a coworker: probably no big deal, as long as it doesn't get out of hand. At the other end of the spectrum, there are cases of spouses who have secretly accumulated tens of thousands of dollars in debt, kept entire bank and credit card accounts hidden from their partners, or even lied about having a job.
These more extreme cases of financial infidelity, experts say, can be just as destructive to a marriage as physical infidelity, if not more so. As one victim points out, if you find out your partner is having an affair, you can either decide to work through it or split up. Either way, you get past it. But if your partner has masses of debt you don't know about, that affects your finances too. Even if you walk away from the relationship, you can't escape from that debt burden.
In the article, I discuss the various types of financial infidelity, the reasons it can happen, and the ways it can hurt couples both financially and emotionally. Then I offer some practical advice on how to deal with your joint finances so financial infidelity never becomes a problem—or to deal with it if it's already happened.
If you're already doing everything right—communicating clearly and sharing responsibility for your money—then this article will make you feel good about the problems you're avoiding. And if, by any chance, there is something amiss in your joint financial life, it can help you spot the problem and deal with it before it destroys your relationship.
How to Deal with a Lying Spouse – Financial Infidelity in Marriage
These more extreme cases of financial infidelity, experts say, can be just as destructive to a marriage as physical infidelity, if not more so. As one victim points out, if you find out your partner is having an affair, you can either decide to work through it or split up. Either way, you get past it. But if your partner has masses of debt you don't know about, that affects your finances too. Even if you walk away from the relationship, you can't escape from that debt burden.
In the article, I discuss the various types of financial infidelity, the reasons it can happen, and the ways it can hurt couples both financially and emotionally. Then I offer some practical advice on how to deal with your joint finances so financial infidelity never becomes a problem—or to deal with it if it's already happened.
If you're already doing everything right—communicating clearly and sharing responsibility for your money—then this article will make you feel good about the problems you're avoiding. And if, by any chance, there is something amiss in your joint financial life, it can help you spot the problem and deal with it before it destroys your relationship.
How to Deal with a Lying Spouse – Financial Infidelity in Marriage
Monday, July 23, 2018
Money Crashers: What to Do If Your Wallet or Purse Is Lost or Stolen
When my purse was snatched last month, I knew right away I was going to be in for a huge hassle. Between dealing with the police, calling up my credit card issuers, going to the bank and the DMV, and changing the locks on the house and the car, I spent several days dealing with just the official aspects of the robbery—and I'm still not completely done replacing all the stuff that I lost. (After several failed attempts, I've finally found a suitable new purse, but I'm still in the process of reconstructing my grocery price book, and I have to either find a new date book or finally get myself a smartphone to serve the same purpose.)
As I went through the lengthy process of reporting and replacing everything I'd lost, it occurred to me that a summary of all the steps I had to take would probably be a useful guide for anyone else going through the same experience. And, as luck would have it, I happened to have a client that would pay me for such a write-up.
So here it is, my latest Money Crashers piece: What to Do If Your Wallet or Purse Is Lost or Stolen. It explains what you can expect when reporting a robbery to police; how to report and replace missing debit cards, credit cards, checks, safe deposit box keys, insurance cards, drivers' licenses, passports, and other miscellaneous cards; various steps you can take to protect your credit; how to track or block your stolen cell phone; have your house and your car re-keyed; and file an insurance claim if appropriate. I hope you'll never need this info, but if you ever do, it should be handy to have it all in one place.
As I went through the lengthy process of reporting and replacing everything I'd lost, it occurred to me that a summary of all the steps I had to take would probably be a useful guide for anyone else going through the same experience. And, as luck would have it, I happened to have a client that would pay me for such a write-up.
So here it is, my latest Money Crashers piece: What to Do If Your Wallet or Purse Is Lost or Stolen. It explains what you can expect when reporting a robbery to police; how to report and replace missing debit cards, credit cards, checks, safe deposit box keys, insurance cards, drivers' licenses, passports, and other miscellaneous cards; various steps you can take to protect your credit; how to track or block your stolen cell phone; have your house and your car re-keyed; and file an insurance claim if appropriate. I hope you'll never need this info, but if you ever do, it should be handy to have it all in one place.
Sunday, July 22, 2018
DIY straw sleeve
A couple of weeks back, I decided to embark on a modified version of the Plastic Free July challenge, with a focus on cutting out "stupid plastic"—in particular, any plastics that are single-use and non-recyclable. To that end, I decided it was time to get serious about dealing with this year's most popular plastic villain: drinking straws.
Now, you might wonder why straws, in particular, have come under such intense fire. After all, they're a lot smaller than, say, water bottles or soda bottles or even plastic shopping bags. So why are so many green groups targeting them?
The answer is twofold. First, they're ubiquitous; and second, they're not recyclable. As Popular Science explains, although they're typically made of recyclable polypropylene, their small size and weight actually work against them; they slip right the cracks in the conveyor belts used in large-scale plastic recycling. And since polypropylene floats, unlike the heavier PETE plastic used in water and soda bottles, a lot of these plastic straws end up adrift in the ocean, where they can cause harm to wildlife.
When I first decided to try reducing straw use back in April, I decided that, rather than rushing out and buying a set of reusable silicone straws, I'd first try to use up all the old straws I'd brought home over the years and rinsed out. (Since they were going to end up in the trash eventually, I figured, I might as well get as much use out of them as possible first.) So I tucked a straw from my collection inside a pennywhistle that I was already carrying around in my purse.
Unfortunately, when my purse was snatched last month, I lost both the whistle and the straw. So in order to carry on with my straw-reuse experiment, I was going to need a new container. I found some reusable sleeves for drinking straws online, but they cost $12 apiece—twice as much as a whole set of the silicone drinking straws. That seemed like a ridiculous amount to pay for something that was basically just a little tube of fabric. Surely, I figured, I could make something similar with the materials in my scrap bin.
So I headed downstairs and dug through my remnants, looking for something I could easily make into a suitable straw sleeve. The first thing that caught my eye was an old pair of shorts, made of a sort of printed cotton fabric. They'd worn out in the thigh area, but there was plenty of good fabric around the hem, and it occurred to me that if I simply cut off a section of that hem, it would be exactly the right size to store a straw.
To make sure this would accommodate any straw in my collection, I grabbed the longest one I could find, measured it against the hem of the shorts, and cut off a section long enough to cover it. By starting at the side seam, I was able to give it a ready-sewn end, so I didn't even have to sew it up at the bottom. All I have to is slip the straw into the sleeve and then tuck in the end of the fabric above it to keep it from sliding back out again.
I've even discovered that this DIY straw sleeve is wide enough to accommodate the bigger-barreled straws used with bubble tea, one of my favorite to-go treats. Since the bubble-sized straws are a little too wide to fit in a standard to-go cup, I decided to carry both a bubble-sized straw and a regular straw, with the narrower one tucked inside the wider one, which in turn is tucked inside the sleeve. So now, no matter where I stop off for a drink, I'll have just the right straw to drink it with, and I won't need to take a new one.
Of course, as luck would have it, since I came up with this oh-so-clever solution I haven't bought a single to-go drink anywhere, so I haven't really had a chance to deploy my new sustainable toy. But I know it's ready when I need it.
So, for anyone out there who's been thinking about switching to reusable straws, but couldn't figure out how to carry one: wonder no more. This trick would probably work just fine with any old pair of pants or shorts you happen to have sitting around in your rag bag. And if you don't have a rag bag, you could just buy the cheapest pair you can find at your local thrift shop and cut it up; it'll still be cheaper than buying one of those fancy straw sleeves on Etsy.
Now, you might wonder why straws, in particular, have come under such intense fire. After all, they're a lot smaller than, say, water bottles or soda bottles or even plastic shopping bags. So why are so many green groups targeting them?
The answer is twofold. First, they're ubiquitous; and second, they're not recyclable. As Popular Science explains, although they're typically made of recyclable polypropylene, their small size and weight actually work against them; they slip right the cracks in the conveyor belts used in large-scale plastic recycling. And since polypropylene floats, unlike the heavier PETE plastic used in water and soda bottles, a lot of these plastic straws end up adrift in the ocean, where they can cause harm to wildlife.
When I first decided to try reducing straw use back in April, I decided that, rather than rushing out and buying a set of reusable silicone straws, I'd first try to use up all the old straws I'd brought home over the years and rinsed out. (Since they were going to end up in the trash eventually, I figured, I might as well get as much use out of them as possible first.) So I tucked a straw from my collection inside a pennywhistle that I was already carrying around in my purse.
Unfortunately, when my purse was snatched last month, I lost both the whistle and the straw. So in order to carry on with my straw-reuse experiment, I was going to need a new container. I found some reusable sleeves for drinking straws online, but they cost $12 apiece—twice as much as a whole set of the silicone drinking straws. That seemed like a ridiculous amount to pay for something that was basically just a little tube of fabric. Surely, I figured, I could make something similar with the materials in my scrap bin.
So I headed downstairs and dug through my remnants, looking for something I could easily make into a suitable straw sleeve. The first thing that caught my eye was an old pair of shorts, made of a sort of printed cotton fabric. They'd worn out in the thigh area, but there was plenty of good fabric around the hem, and it occurred to me that if I simply cut off a section of that hem, it would be exactly the right size to store a straw.
To make sure this would accommodate any straw in my collection, I grabbed the longest one I could find, measured it against the hem of the shorts, and cut off a section long enough to cover it. By starting at the side seam, I was able to give it a ready-sewn end, so I didn't even have to sew it up at the bottom. All I have to is slip the straw into the sleeve and then tuck in the end of the fabric above it to keep it from sliding back out again.I've even discovered that this DIY straw sleeve is wide enough to accommodate the bigger-barreled straws used with bubble tea, one of my favorite to-go treats. Since the bubble-sized straws are a little too wide to fit in a standard to-go cup, I decided to carry both a bubble-sized straw and a regular straw, with the narrower one tucked inside the wider one, which in turn is tucked inside the sleeve. So now, no matter where I stop off for a drink, I'll have just the right straw to drink it with, and I won't need to take a new one.
Of course, as luck would have it, since I came up with this oh-so-clever solution I haven't bought a single to-go drink anywhere, so I haven't really had a chance to deploy my new sustainable toy. But I know it's ready when I need it.
So, for anyone out there who's been thinking about switching to reusable straws, but couldn't figure out how to carry one: wonder no more. This trick would probably work just fine with any old pair of pants or shorts you happen to have sitting around in your rag bag. And if you don't have a rag bag, you could just buy the cheapest pair you can find at your local thrift shop and cut it up; it'll still be cheaper than buying one of those fancy straw sleeves on Etsy.
Friday, July 20, 2018
Money Crashers: Labor Unions in the United States
I got the idea for my latest Money Crashers post while working on another Money Crashers article (not yet published) about the gender wage gap in America. One fact I learned while researching it was that women who belong to labor unions earn about 30% more per week than non-unionized women and are also more likely to have access to benefits. I thought that when covering this fact, it would be useful to link to an existing article about labor unions to give readers some background—and to my surprise, I found there wasn't one.
This seemed like an important omission to fix, because labor unions have played a big role in the history of the American workplace, particularly during the 20th century. Indeed, many scholars have noted that the much-lamented decline of the middle class has occurred more or less in parallel with the decline of unions. And given that frustrated workers are generally given the credit for putting Donald Trump into office, banking on his promise to "make America great again," it's worth considering how much of the past greatness they're longing for—specifically, a strong economy and abundant jobs, even for those without higher education or specialized training—could be credited to the labor movement.
So my new article delves into all those topics. I start with an ultra-basic explanation of what unions do, in terms of both collective bargaining and political activity. Then I give a quick run-down of the rise and fall of labor unions in America and contrast the state of labor unions today in the USA and the rest of the world. I explore the concrete benefits unions can offer, both for their workers and for society as a whole—along with their legitimate downsides. And finally, I explore some ideas for improving unions so they could continue to bring their benefits to society with fewer drawbacks.
It's a dense, chewy topic, but it's worth a look if you have the time.
This seemed like an important omission to fix, because labor unions have played a big role in the history of the American workplace, particularly during the 20th century. Indeed, many scholars have noted that the much-lamented decline of the middle class has occurred more or less in parallel with the decline of unions. And given that frustrated workers are generally given the credit for putting Donald Trump into office, banking on his promise to "make America great again," it's worth considering how much of the past greatness they're longing for—specifically, a strong economy and abundant jobs, even for those without higher education or specialized training—could be credited to the labor movement.
So my new article delves into all those topics. I start with an ultra-basic explanation of what unions do, in terms of both collective bargaining and political activity. Then I give a quick run-down of the rise and fall of labor unions in America and contrast the state of labor unions today in the USA and the rest of the world. I explore the concrete benefits unions can offer, both for their workers and for society as a whole—along with their legitimate downsides. And finally, I explore some ideas for improving unions so they could continue to bring their benefits to society with fewer drawbacks.
It's a dense, chewy topic, but it's worth a look if you have the time.
Sunday, July 15, 2018
Recipe of the Month: Thai Stir-Fry
Our "Provider" green beans, which were such a disappointment last year, are really living up to their name this time around. We've already harvested over three pounds of them from our eight square feet of plants, with more coming every day. So after a few rounds of green beans amandine and our favorite eggplant and string beans in garlic sauce, he decided it was time to branch out and look for some new green bean recipes. And since we've also planted Thai basil for the first time this year, he thought a Thai recipe would be a good choice.
He started out looking for recipes for pad prik king, a dish we've had in Thai restaurants before that contains both string beans and Thai basil. But all the recipes he found for that seemed rather complicated, so he tried just searching on these two ingredients, and he came across this Thai pork, basil, and green bean stir-fry. Naturally, he had to make some modifications to this; he replaced the pork with pan-fried tofu cubes (prepared using his usual method for stir-fry) and toned down the spice by substituting one red jalapeno pepper for the two Thai bird chilis. He also left out the salt, thinking the soy sauce and fish sauce would make it quite salty enough, and added half a tablespoon of corn starch to thicken up the sauce. And he scaled up the green beans to 10 or 11 ounces rather than the 9 the recipe calls for, figuring a few extra veggies couldn't hurt.
The first thing we noticed when we tried the dish was that it was very salty—to the point that we both ended up taking more rice to dilute it a bit. It's hard to imagine how powerful the original recipe would have been with even more salt spread over a smaller volume of beans. Brian's best guess as to what happened is that adding the corn starch to the sauce made it stick to the veggies more, rather than running off into the bottom of the pan, so we ended up getting more of the salt even though he used less of it.
However, once we'd cut the veggies with more rice, the saltiness receded and the other flavors of the sauce came out a bit more. The Thai basil—which has a pungent, vaguely anise-like flavor almost nothing like regular basil—lent its distinctive savor, and the hot pepper and sugar gave it a background of spice and sweetness. Even the heavy salt didn't deter either of us from going back for seconds.
He started out looking for recipes for pad prik king, a dish we've had in Thai restaurants before that contains both string beans and Thai basil. But all the recipes he found for that seemed rather complicated, so he tried just searching on these two ingredients, and he came across this Thai pork, basil, and green bean stir-fry. Naturally, he had to make some modifications to this; he replaced the pork with pan-fried tofu cubes (prepared using his usual method for stir-fry) and toned down the spice by substituting one red jalapeno pepper for the two Thai bird chilis. He also left out the salt, thinking the soy sauce and fish sauce would make it quite salty enough, and added half a tablespoon of corn starch to thicken up the sauce. And he scaled up the green beans to 10 or 11 ounces rather than the 9 the recipe calls for, figuring a few extra veggies couldn't hurt.The first thing we noticed when we tried the dish was that it was very salty—to the point that we both ended up taking more rice to dilute it a bit. It's hard to imagine how powerful the original recipe would have been with even more salt spread over a smaller volume of beans. Brian's best guess as to what happened is that adding the corn starch to the sauce made it stick to the veggies more, rather than running off into the bottom of the pan, so we ended up getting more of the salt even though he used less of it.
However, once we'd cut the veggies with more rice, the saltiness receded and the other flavors of the sauce came out a bit more. The Thai basil—which has a pungent, vaguely anise-like flavor almost nothing like regular basil—lent its distinctive savor, and the hot pepper and sugar gave it a background of spice and sweetness. Even the heavy salt didn't deter either of us from going back for seconds.
We both think with some further modifications to cut down the saltiness, this recipe should be a keeper. Next time he makes it, Brian plans to cut the soy sauce by at least half, making up the volume with either water or sherry. And if the Provider beans keep providing at their current rate, we shouldn't have to wait too long to try it.
Sunday, July 8, 2018
The Plastic Free July challenge
A couple of days ago, I discovered the "Plastic Free July" challenge. The idea is that, for the month of July, or some portion thereof, you pledge to do one of the following:
The first problem with it is covered in this Guardian article, which is where I learned about the challenge in the first place: plastic is so ubiquitous that for most people, giving it up simply isn't practical. The only people who can really aspire to go completely plastic-free are the "lucky few" for whom money is more or less no object, who can afford to do all their shopping from the bulk bins at Whole Foods and send away for biodegradable dental floss made from natural silk that costs $10 a jar. Spending that kind of money to avoid throwing away a few grams of plastic floss is not what I consider a wise use of resources.
Furthermore, no matter how much money you're willing to throw at the problem, sometimes going plastic-free simply isn't feasible. When I contemplated taking on the challenge, I quickly realized that two of the items I was planning to buy that very day were packaged in plastic:
For instance, the site suggests that instead of using plastic "bin liners" for trash, you should "Line your bin with several layers of newspaper." Now, I guess if you already get a newspaper, this isn't such a bad idea; it is a bit of a waste sending your paper to the landfill rather than recycling it, but that's offset by the waste you don't generate buying and dumping plastic trash bags. But what if you prefer the greener alternative of reading your news online to save paper (which requires not only tree pulp, but also lots of water and energy, to produce)? Should you start subscribing to a paper, with all the extra waste it creates, just so you'll have sheets to line your bin with? Is it worth it just to avoid dumping one plastic trash bag per month (which could be made from recycled plastic, at that)?
Likewise, the site's "action picker" suggests replacing plastic milk jugs with "waxed card" cartons. Except here in the USA, those cartons aren't coated with wax, they're coated with plastic—which means you can't compost or recycle them. The plastic jugs contain more plastic, but they can be recycled, while the cartons have to go straight to the landfill.
In other cases, it's not the health of the planet you're putting at risk by ditching plastics; it's your own health. For example, the site suggests avoiding sunscreen by "covering up" or "making your own." Covering up in July may be a reasonable option in Australia, where it's the middle of winter, but if you try that in the kind of weather we had here in New Jersey last week, you're putting yourself at risk for heat stroke. And a homemade sunscreen is not a reliable way to protect yourself from sunburn and skin cancer, any more than a homemade toothpaste (which the site also recommends) is a reliable way to prevent cavities.
Now, obviously, there are some plastics it makes sense to ditch—if you can do so without too much cost and effort. There's no real downside, for instance, to carrying a reusable shopping bag, or making your own seltzer instead of buying it in bottles. And while making my own deodorant didn't actually work for me, it was a worthwhile experiment, and it wouldn't hurt me to try getting creative with some of the other plastic-packaged products I buy now.
So I've decided that my personal version of the Plastic Free July challenge is going to focus, not on plastic per se, but on "stupid plastic"—the plastic items I know I'd be better off without, if I could only figure out a reasonable way to do without them. Watch this space throughout the month for news on which plastics I attempt to cut out or cut down on, and to what extent I succeed.
- Avoid plastic packaging;
- Eschew single-use plastic takeaway containers (bags, bottles, cups, and straws); or
- Go all out and attempt to remove all single-use plastic from your life.
The first problem with it is covered in this Guardian article, which is where I learned about the challenge in the first place: plastic is so ubiquitous that for most people, giving it up simply isn't practical. The only people who can really aspire to go completely plastic-free are the "lucky few" for whom money is more or less no object, who can afford to do all their shopping from the bulk bins at Whole Foods and send away for biodegradable dental floss made from natural silk that costs $10 a jar. Spending that kind of money to avoid throwing away a few grams of plastic floss is not what I consider a wise use of resources.
Furthermore, no matter how much money you're willing to throw at the problem, sometimes going plastic-free simply isn't feasible. When I contemplated taking on the challenge, I quickly realized that two of the items I was planning to buy that very day were packaged in plastic:
- A prescription for clindamycin lotion, which I need to use daily for my rosacea. This is simply the way the drug is packaged; there's literally no way to get it without the plastic. So to avoid one tiny plastic bottle that weighs less than an ounce—most of which is recyclable—I'd have to go against my doctor's orders.
- A bottle of conditioner. This isn't a medical necessity, per se, but it's something I absolutely need if I don't want to look like the Bride of Frankenstein (which, you could argue, makes it a necessity for my emotional and social health). I have finally managed, after extensive searching, to find a brand of conditioner that works reasonably well on my hair, is cruelty-free, and isn't terribly expensive, and I'd hate to give it up—but even if I were willing to switch brands for the sake of avoiding plastic packaging, I've never seen any conditioner that was packaged in anything but a plastic bottle. (I checked the "Personal Care" section on the challenge website, and it offered some plastic-free alternatives to shampoo, but none for conditioner.)
For instance, the site suggests that instead of using plastic "bin liners" for trash, you should "Line your bin with several layers of newspaper." Now, I guess if you already get a newspaper, this isn't such a bad idea; it is a bit of a waste sending your paper to the landfill rather than recycling it, but that's offset by the waste you don't generate buying and dumping plastic trash bags. But what if you prefer the greener alternative of reading your news online to save paper (which requires not only tree pulp, but also lots of water and energy, to produce)? Should you start subscribing to a paper, with all the extra waste it creates, just so you'll have sheets to line your bin with? Is it worth it just to avoid dumping one plastic trash bag per month (which could be made from recycled plastic, at that)?
Likewise, the site's "action picker" suggests replacing plastic milk jugs with "waxed card" cartons. Except here in the USA, those cartons aren't coated with wax, they're coated with plastic—which means you can't compost or recycle them. The plastic jugs contain more plastic, but they can be recycled, while the cartons have to go straight to the landfill.
In other cases, it's not the health of the planet you're putting at risk by ditching plastics; it's your own health. For example, the site suggests avoiding sunscreen by "covering up" or "making your own." Covering up in July may be a reasonable option in Australia, where it's the middle of winter, but if you try that in the kind of weather we had here in New Jersey last week, you're putting yourself at risk for heat stroke. And a homemade sunscreen is not a reliable way to protect yourself from sunburn and skin cancer, any more than a homemade toothpaste (which the site also recommends) is a reliable way to prevent cavities.
Now, obviously, there are some plastics it makes sense to ditch—if you can do so without too much cost and effort. There's no real downside, for instance, to carrying a reusable shopping bag, or making your own seltzer instead of buying it in bottles. And while making my own deodorant didn't actually work for me, it was a worthwhile experiment, and it wouldn't hurt me to try getting creative with some of the other plastic-packaged products I buy now.
So I've decided that my personal version of the Plastic Free July challenge is going to focus, not on plastic per se, but on "stupid plastic"—the plastic items I know I'd be better off without, if I could only figure out a reasonable way to do without them. Watch this space throughout the month for news on which plastics I attempt to cut out or cut down on, and to what extent I succeed.
Monday, July 2, 2018
Bonus recipe: Raspberry Fool
Last month we tried a great dessert that would have been ideal for my Recipe of the Month. Unfortunately, the first time we made it, I forgot to get a picture, so I went with my Eggs with Squash Blossoms instead. But it was just too good a recipe not to share, so you're getting it now as a bonus recipe.
Last month, our raspberry canes were producing at an amazing, even ridiculous rate. We harvested so many, so quickly, that our usual methods of eating them up—raw by the handful or sprinkled on salads—weren't nearly enough to dispose of them. The obvious thing to do was to put some of them into a dessert, such as a berry crisp—but the weather was so hot that baking didn't seem very appealing.
So I went rummaging through our recipe file in search of a no-bake dessert you could make with fresh fruit, and I came across this little gem from Mark Bittman: Strawberry Fool. A fool is an amazingly simple fruit dessert that you make by folding together sweetened, crushed fruit and whipped cream. Bittman fancies it up a little by pureeing half the fruit and leaving the other half in small chunks, which he says helps it keep its texture better if you need to store it for several hours in the fridge. However, since our plan was to whip it up and gobble it down right away, we decided to skip all that and make our Raspberry Fool the easy way.
Brian halved the recipe and made a slight additional modification to it, using powdered sugar in the whipped cream because it dissolves better. So here's his final version:
This came out a pretty pink shade that was a bit hard to capture in a photograph, but still more impressive was the taste and texture: sweet yet tart, creamy and fruity, and light as a cloud. It was heavenly. If this isn't what angels eat, it must be because they can't grow fresh raspberries up there.
As for whether we'd make it again, that's an easy one: We already have, several times. Amusingly, when we first bought the cream for this, we were a little disgruntled to discover that our local supermarket didn't sell it in cups, only in pints. Since we were only planning on making a half recipe, we figured we'd need to figure out some way of using up an extra cup and a half of cream. But as it turned out, that was no problem at all; we simply made the same dessert three more times over the next two weeks.
Unfortunately, the flood of raspberries we were getting last month has slowed to a trickle, at least for now. So we'll have to put this recipe away for a while, though we'll probably break it out again when our fall crop of raspberries comes in. But even if we decide at that point to go with a warm dessert more suitable for chilly weather, we'll certainly be making this again next summer, and every summer so long as our raspberries keep producing.
Plus, now that we've learned the ways of foolery, we'll probably be trying this dessert with other types of fruit as well. Bittman says it works with any type of soft fruit, so we could try it with other kinds of berries, peaches, or even plums, if we manage to get any off our trees. (So far, our attempts at pruning and spraying haven't been too successful at warding off the brown rot, so it's not looking promising.) I even found a couple of recipes for rhubarb fool on the BBC Recipes site, and we've certainly got no shortage of that. In fact, since our rhubarb starts producing so early, it might prove just the thing for a grain-free dessert next Passover.
Last month, our raspberry canes were producing at an amazing, even ridiculous rate. We harvested so many, so quickly, that our usual methods of eating them up—raw by the handful or sprinkled on salads—weren't nearly enough to dispose of them. The obvious thing to do was to put some of them into a dessert, such as a berry crisp—but the weather was so hot that baking didn't seem very appealing.
So I went rummaging through our recipe file in search of a no-bake dessert you could make with fresh fruit, and I came across this little gem from Mark Bittman: Strawberry Fool. A fool is an amazingly simple fruit dessert that you make by folding together sweetened, crushed fruit and whipped cream. Bittman fancies it up a little by pureeing half the fruit and leaving the other half in small chunks, which he says helps it keep its texture better if you need to store it for several hours in the fridge. However, since our plan was to whip it up and gobble it down right away, we decided to skip all that and make our Raspberry Fool the easy way.
Brian halved the recipe and made a slight additional modification to it, using powdered sugar in the whipped cream because it dissolves better. So here's his final version:
RASPBERRY FOOL
Dump 1 cup fresh raspberries in a small bowl with 3 Tbsp. sugar. Mix together, chopping up the berries with the side of a spoon until they're sort of half-mashed. Put the bowl in the fridge to chill for about half an hour.
In another bowl, combine 1/2 cup whipping cream, 1 Tbsp. powdered sugar, and 1/2 tsp. vanilla extract. Whip this mixture, either by hand or with an electric mixer, until stiff peaks form.
Fold in the chilled raspberry mixture, dish out into two small cups or bowls, and serve.
This came out a pretty pink shade that was a bit hard to capture in a photograph, but still more impressive was the taste and texture: sweet yet tart, creamy and fruity, and light as a cloud. It was heavenly. If this isn't what angels eat, it must be because they can't grow fresh raspberries up there.As for whether we'd make it again, that's an easy one: We already have, several times. Amusingly, when we first bought the cream for this, we were a little disgruntled to discover that our local supermarket didn't sell it in cups, only in pints. Since we were only planning on making a half recipe, we figured we'd need to figure out some way of using up an extra cup and a half of cream. But as it turned out, that was no problem at all; we simply made the same dessert three more times over the next two weeks.
Unfortunately, the flood of raspberries we were getting last month has slowed to a trickle, at least for now. So we'll have to put this recipe away for a while, though we'll probably break it out again when our fall crop of raspberries comes in. But even if we decide at that point to go with a warm dessert more suitable for chilly weather, we'll certainly be making this again next summer, and every summer so long as our raspberries keep producing.
Plus, now that we've learned the ways of foolery, we'll probably be trying this dessert with other types of fruit as well. Bittman says it works with any type of soft fruit, so we could try it with other kinds of berries, peaches, or even plums, if we manage to get any off our trees. (So far, our attempts at pruning and spraying haven't been too successful at warding off the brown rot, so it's not looking promising.) I even found a couple of recipes for rhubarb fool on the BBC Recipes site, and we've certainly got no shortage of that. In fact, since our rhubarb starts producing so early, it might prove just the thing for a grain-free dessert next Passover.