How We Got Here

It started when my cousin was shot in the leg.

I know, this isn't a great start for a food blog, but there needs to be some context about my weird family situation.  

I'm a woman in my 40s, never married and childless.  I care for my handicapped mother, who's in her 70s, and now my cousin, who is 20.

My mom and cousin are Puerto Rican.  I also consider myself Puerto Rican, but I'm really a 'Sorta Rican'.  My father was white.  I inherited his extremely pale skin and grew up in the continental United States.  My Spanish is embarrassingly weak.

I'd met my male cousin one time before he came to live with us.  My mother and I went on a cruise to Puerto Rico and reconnected with my aunt and five children. 

She has four children now.  One of my female cousins had been murdered four years ago.  She was only 16.  And, as I said, my other cousin was shot.

My male cousin was 13 when I met him.  He was 5' 11" and looked like he was still growing. 

We tried to convince my aunt and her remaining children to move to the states with us after my female cousin's murder.  They wouldn't.

Puerto Rico is their home and community.  Nothing we could say or do would get them to leave.

And then, this year, my male cousin was shot in the leg.

It wasn't deliberate.  There had been a drive-by shooting near him and he caught a stray bullet.  This was the final straw for my aunt.  She'd already lost one child, and all but one daughter had already moved away.  She insisted my male cousin come live with us. 

He reluctantly agreed, but had a few conditions.  He would continue to pay rent to his mother in Puerto Rico because she desperately needed the money.  He also insisted on sending money to an ex-girlfriend who is a single mother with a child.  (Not his, but he became attached.)  

He would not be able to contribute to our household

This was a long way of saying that he would not be able to contribute to our household while living here.  I agreed, because I really think he was looking for excuses not to leave.  I wouldn't give him any.  I don't need his money.  I make enough of my own.  I need him to stay alive.

When I picked him up at the airport I saw that he had continued growing in the seven years since I'd last saw him.  He was 6' 4" and at least 300 pounds.  I'm going to refer to him by the name 'Primo' (pree-mo) which is the Spanish word for male cousin.  

Primo is the big eater for which the blog is named.

Primo has been with us for 11 months and in that time he managed to complete a driver's ed course and many hours of driving lessons with me.  He got a job at a warehouse.  He's making payments on a used car to take him back and forth to said warehouse.  

After he pays for his car, insurance, gas, mom rent, and ex-girlfriend support he's left with pocket change.  He relies on me 100% to provide room and board.  This is what I signed up for.  

I'm a Frugal Woman

I work at home as a writer and make a decent income close to the 6 figure range.  I could spend money a lot more freely than I do, but I don't and I won't.  I like to keep debt low and my emergency fund stocked.  

My grocery budget for myself, my mother, and Primo is $350/mo for everything.  That includes cat food, toilet paper, face cream, EVERYTHING.  That means meal planning and trying to stay ahead of my cousin's enormous appetite.

You see, he's not just a big eater because he's big.  The warehouse he works at has him constantly running around for his 12 hour shift.  He's burning 5,000-6,000 calories a day at work easily.

I take this approach when I prepare meals:  1/4th of whatever I cook will be eaten by me, 1/4th by my mother, and the other 1/2 by him.  But that only covers his lunch.  I need to make something else for his dinner.  (He doesn't leave himself time for breakfast.)  

In simpler terms:  if I make a chicken pot pie, my mom and I will each get a slice for lunch and a slice for dinner.  The other half of the pie is packed for his lunch.  I need to make something else for him for dinner.  

I Have to Get Creative

He's not a picky eater, and I'm a good cook.  He inhales the food I give him without complaint, though often asking for more.  So if I have chicken pot pie for him for dinner, it's good to have another desert pie ready too, so he can eat his fill.

Meatless Monday 

Grocery prices are soaring, especially meat.  So Meatless Monday has become a necessity more than a choice.  My mom likes to 'help'.  She has a social security income as her own spending money.  When I make a recipe she likes she buys the ingredients to get me to make more of it.  

This happened with a chickpea curry I would make.  I have a lot of cans of chickpeas because of her.  

This curry used to be enough food for me and her for two days worth of lunches and dinners.  With Primo it gives me and my mother two meals, and one meal for him.  

*To be continued*