HOW TO DINE LIKE THE GAMELAN PLAYER IN AN INDIE ROCK BAND. OR A PENNILESS WINE SHOP CLERK.

Times are tough. Companies are scaling back on holiday gifts, families are struggling to make ends meet, and for my sexworker needs I've downgraded to toothless fifty-something Puerto Rican hookers with names like Consuela and Graciela. But just because you have to fuck like a pauper doesn't mean you can't dine like a prince! Over the years, the combination of solo living, indigency, and an appetite to rival that of a stoned whale have forced me to develop a number of strategies for eating out on the cheap. Follow my helpful hints for stretching your food dollar, and soon you'll have scads of extra cash to spend on rent and important household items like electronic nosehair clippers and eight-balls of cocaine.


1. Got... Thai?

This is hardly a secret, but Thai food is perhaps the last great deal in good eats. On this front, authenticity is important, but not necessarily for reasons of cultural fealty. As Thai and other once-exotic cuisines have burgeoned in popularity, enterprising restauranteurs have developed trendy and needlessly expensive restaurants serving artful but often homogenized versions of classic endemic dishes. Not only are the prices at these nouveau joints markedly higher, but portion sizes shrink and the ratio of garnish to food increases drastically. Avoid restaurants of this type like the plague. Fortunately for our purposes they tend to be easily identified by their minimalist color schemes and decor, backlit signage, and expensive, unobtrusive stereo equipment invariably broadcasting trip-hop and lounge music. Usually the vocalist will be singing in Portuguese despite the fact that this bears no relation to the cuisine on offer. Also remember that if a Thai restaurant has a martini menu, it's a bad sign. Ditto black leather couches and water installations. On the plus side, if you see a dry-erase board announcing "Today's Special" in a squiggly, illegible language, or spot old Asian women puttering around in the kitchen, these are indicators that you are in the right place. Finally, run, don't walk out of any ethnic restaurant that boasts go-go dancers or where you have to slip the hostess a twenty (pre-rolled for use as a coke straw) in order to secure a table.


2. Second Day Is Twice As Nice; Or, Doggy Bags Are Your Friend

Rule two for economical out-dining: whenever possible, leave something for a future meal. A byword of restaurant-going for most people, this has become a revelation for me of late, the possibility of which I attribute to a general slowing of my metabolism and diminution of my appetite. Just as important as having leftovers, however, is knowing which leftovers are worth preserving in the first place. It is crucial during the meal to strategize your attack and consume fully those items that will not happily live in the icebox in the days that follow, allowing you both to achieve satiation and also hoard a portion of hardier foodstuffs for the lean times ahead. To this end, here are some rough and ready guidelines. While at table devour without mercy all mollusks, fish, and other seafood bounty, as these culinary hothouse orchids are the first victims of spoilage and will play merry hell with your digestive system if not treated with the utmost respect. The same regrettably goes for sushi which, delicious and costly though it may be, can turn on you like a dyspeptic cobra and make you rue the day you became proficient with chopsticks. Besides, sushi is too expensive for our borderline-welfare lifestyle, so I will assume that if you are seated in front of an expanse of sushi, someone else is picking up the tab. To paraphrase the popular expression, "eat 'em if you got 'em." Dressed salads are also prime full-consumption candidates: few things in life are as sorry and unappetizing as an archipelago of wilted lettuce leaves adrift in a sea of thousand-island dressing. As mama used to say, "eat your greens." Same thing goes for sliced raw fruits and fresh berries. You need them, especially if like me your diet revolves around the potato and is therefore woefully undersupplied with nutrients and roughage.

Excellent candidates for caching are starchy vegetables and their offspring (with the notable exception of french fries); the cooked flesh of birds, pigs, and ungulates; grains, pilafs, and pulses; sandwiches, excepting those that contain the dreaded term 'salad' in their name; soups of all manner; omelets and other egg-driven vehicles; and non-frozen desserts and cheese courses. With few exceptions, all these items can live for days in the fridge and pose minimal risk of causing grievous gastrointestinal damage when finally pressed into meal service. And speaking of service, don't think that doggy bags are de rigeur only if you're dining in. Whenever possible, order takeout from lunch buffets. Almost never will you encounter a buffet that charges by weight, so take that styrofoam container and load it as full as its structural integrity (and your chutzpah) will permit. After having helped yourself to an obscene quantity of food, quickly encase said container in the provided plastic bag to prevent spillage should the six pounds of chicken korma and aloo gobi breach their styrofoam hull and create what we in the food industry call a "situation." Avoid making eye-contact with the owners as you depart with your spoils, and if you frequent the same establishment with any regularity consider periodically changing your appearance and possibly your name as well.


3. Learn to Live Off the Land

Since the 1960's when natural-food advocate Euell Gibbons and his seminal tome Stalking the Wild Asparagus popularized the notion of harvesting the bounty of nature, Americans have endulged their penchant for rugged individualism by venturing into the woods and gathering wild edibles that at best taste like an unwashed rectum and at worst will leave you dead and bloated as a septic hippo. You rural kids no doubt are already attuned to the wisdom of the land and have honed your instincts to such a degree that you can create a meth lab out of little more than a hollow log, some cattails, and the restricted access section of the local pharmacy. But here's a news flash for you city slickers: you too can reduce your dependency on grocery stores and foreign oil by exploiting those pockets of wildness that persist in even the most developed of cities. For instance, as you may know snowshoe hares were one of the staple foodstuffs for mountain men and voyageurs in the era before the West was conquered by 24-hour convenience stores and Paris Hilton. Yet despair not, for the bounty of the trapline can be yours as well. I am speaking, of course, of that delectable, underutilized urban quarry, the rat. Now, stop protesting - you think people started eating whale blubber and sea cucumbers because they looked appetizing? Rats are plentiful, easy to trap, and in my ward, fat and juicy thanks to their diet of Wiener's Circle refuse and unconsumed chorizo burritos. If you're still not convinced, think of rats as very small, disgusting, and disease-riddled cows - after all, they're practically domesticated given how dependent they are on humans to sustain their enormous populations and prodigious size. (Seriously, I saw this thing the other night that from across the street looked like a Labrador, until I got closer and saw the naked pink tail... shudder. But I digress.) Anyhoo, these critters have essentially no predators in the city, and the only way we're gonna keep their numbers under control is if we all strap on our boots, swallow the vomit rising in our throats, and get those rat traplines working for us. Remember, if you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem.


4. Whole Foods Can Suck Me Til I Shoot Muesli From My Meatus

In the 1990's you may have noticed the emergence and burgeoning popularity of that great foe of discount dining, the natural foods grocery store. Disguised as a "greener," more socially-conscious way to feed one's self than those soulless Safeways and Jewels, these institutions are instead a devious marketing ploy meant to soften the blow of having to shell out $17.50 per pound for wild rice pilaf and convert T-bills to pay for steaks from sashimi grade, humanely euthanized tunas. Proponents blather on about these companies' superlative foodstuffs and eco-responsible best practices from top to bottom. Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to put it to you in less rarefied terms: Whole Foods and its ilk are the grocery equivalent of strip mines, and their sole objective is the separation of you from your hard-earned greenbacks. Now, if you have a numbered Swiss bank account, count as relatives people with names like Windsor and Walton, or live in places like Monaco or Dubai, go ahead and blow your paycheck (not to mention your gustatory load) at Whole Foods on artisanal free-range Spam and Montessori-educated radicchio. But if you're like me, contemplating a future filled with pork 'n beans and government cheese, then look away as you pass these dens of iniquity as if they were Erik Estrada's Playgirl spread.


5. When All Else Fails...

So you've reached the end of your tether: your resources have dwindled to the point where even local panhandlers are crossing the street to avoid you, and the idea of a big night out is extra fire sauce at - oh god, the horror! - Taco Bell. If this worst-case scenario sounds like you, then you may have to resort to desperate workplace tactics in order to keep yourself fed. I am speaking, of course, of the office refrigerator.

I know I've lost some of you with this one. "Goddamit, Aaron," you say to yourself, "I won't do it; I won't stoop that low." Well, nobody said it would be pretty, this business of survival. It's not a long-term strategy, but in dire circumstances other people's lunches can provide essential sustenance over the course of a busy workday. Remember that it's a zero-sum game out there, and every turkey pastrami sandwich that Ted from Accounting eats is one less turkey pastrami sandwich that you could have noshed on scott-free. There are obvious pitfalls with this tactic, so in order to keep a low profile and avoid the installation of kitchen surveillance cameras be sure to take items in such small quantities as to be almost undetectable. Chips, popcorn, and other loose comestibles are excellent quarry, as are cut vegetables, soups, tupperware-bound leftovers, and the like. Also, be sure to feast mightily on office party platters, celebratory donut holes, and birthday cakes, taking care not to be the first one to slice into the cake or remove a sector of the party sub. Once that sub has been breached, however, think of it as the proverbial dead whale upon which sharks gorge themselves until they literally can't swim; that's the kind of effort I want to see. In spite of my earlier example, do not - I repeat, do not - consume a homemade sandwich, as this theft will almost certainly be discovered and heighten vigilance amongs the other brown-baggers. Food that has been abandoned in the kitchen or dining area is, of course, another matter entirely: jump on that good action while it's still fit for human consumption. Anecdotally, while working for a former employer I once noted a plastic bag of ham on the kitchen counter that had been sitting out overnight and was slimy and opaque from condensation. Fighting back the impulse to retch I wondered at its loathesome appearance but then left the kitchen and gave the bag no further thought - that is, until I returned some thirty minutes later and noted that the bag was now missing its dank contents, which I can only surmise means somebody actually ate the ham. But these are not thoughts I wish to dwell on. The point is, just because one of my former colleagues was desperate as a homeless crack addict doesn't mean that you have to be, even if their incomes and yours are practically commensurate.

Thus concludes this lecture on how to live through these tough financial times without going on the dole or moving back in with your parents who, despite their reassurances, are not anxious to have you back in the warm bosom of the family home, raiding the fridge at all hours and basically being a complete load. By following my instructions and keeping your eyes open and your pride low, you can hold the wolf at bay and eat three squares a day even if you were a performance art major in college. As a final announcement, please note that I've got a great recipe for rat cacciatore available upon request. Oh, and FYI, after calling on the services of Graciela in Humboldt Park last weekend I developed a really nasty rash and it burns now when I pee, so, as they say, caveat emptor.