"You don't have to do this, you know," my mom said, standing in the kitchen doorway while I browned ground turkey in her biggest pot. I know. But she cooked dinner for me for twenty-four years, and I moved back home a year ago this month. Sunday dinner felt like the least I could do.
I pay my parents $300 a month, which covers the groceries I eat and a share of the utilities. That money doesn't feel like enough to me, even if my mom thinks it's plenty. So in June I offered to take one night a week. The first one was the Sunday after Father's Day, and it became a standing thing in July. I've made five dinners now, for four people, since my brother Nolan is home from college for the summer.
I pay for these groceries myself, on top of the $300, and I set a limit of $20 per dinner. I mostly shop at Aldi and fill in at Jewel-Osco.
The five dinners
- Sheet-pan chicken thighs with potatoes and carrots: $14. One pan, an hour in the oven, very little to wash. My dad had seconds and said "this is a keeper," which from him is a standing ovation.
- Turkey chili with cornbread from a box mix: $16. It made enough for Monday lunches for two of us. Nolan put cheese on it in a quantity I won't describe.
- Pasta with sausage and broccoli: $12. My cheapest dinner and maybe my favorite. Half a pound of sausage goes a long way when you slice it thin.
- Chicken tacos with a cabbage slaw: $18. This is the one Nolan asked for twice. He requested it again before I'd even cleared the plates, and I made it the following week as well, so technically he's eaten it two Sundays in a row.
- Baked salmon with rice and green beans: $24. Over my limit. Salmon for four isn't cheap, and I'd wanted to make something a little nicer for my mom. I counted the extra $4 as a gift and moved on.
That's $84 for five dinners for four people, or about $4.20 a plate. My arithmetic: $84 ÷ 20 plates = $4.20.
What I've learned in the kitchen
I'm not a natural cook. My mom is the kind of person who opens a fridge, looks at three things and makes something good. I'm the kind who needs a list and a recipe open on my phone, and I still forget the onions sometimes.
A few things have helped:
Planning Sunday's dinner on Wednesday, so I can check what's already in the house before I shop. More than once, my mom had half a bag of rice or a can of beans that saved me buying a new one.
Picking dinners that stretch. Chili, pasta and tacos all make leftovers, and leftovers mean I'm not buying lunch near the office on Monday. That's real money. A lunch out in Skokie is easily $14.
Doing the dishes too. My first Sunday, I cooked and then disappeared. My dad did all the pots. I now clean as I go and finish the rest after dinner. It's only fair.
Why it matters more than the money
Living at home at twenty-five has some uncomfortable moments. I sometimes feel like a teenager who never left, especially when my mom asks if I'll be home for dinner. Cooking on Sundays changed that a little. For one night a week, I'm contributing something I can see on the table, and my parents get a night off.
It also means the four of us actually sit down together. During the week, my dad eats early, my mom works some evenings at the library, Nolan keeps college hours and I'm in my room with the club sheet. On Sundays everyone shows up. Juno shows up too, and waits under Nolan's chair because he is the weak link.
Nolan goes back to Champaign in August, and I'll keep cooking for three. Next on my list: a big pot of soup and a breakfast-for-dinner night, which my dad has already requested. Both should come in well under $20.
