Hodgson Mill muffin mix: the 99 cent best kept secret

99 cents can't get you much these days.

In the 1960s it could buy you two and a half oven ready turkeys, 20 lbs of potatoes, 24 sugared donuts, 20 green peppers, or 4 fast food hamburgers. Suddenly, BK's 99 cent menu doesn't seem so generous.

Today, in most places, it can't even get you a bottle of water, a cup of coffee, or a pack of gum. But, believe it or not, there is something costing less than $1 that will last you longer than a couple of days. I'm referring, of course, to Hodgson Mill's whole wheat muffin mix. Doesn't ring a bell? Perhaps you might be a little more familiar with Jiffy corn muffin mix, Hodgson Mill's better-known, easier-to-pronounce, distantly related cousin. (I call them cousins because they both come in small packaging that hasn't been redesigned since the 70s.)

You've probably walked past it a million times at the supermarket: It's one of those tiny boxes that gets shoved to the back of the shelves by the bigger, more tempting Duncan Heines, Betty Crocker, and Pillsbury. But I'm here to give this unassuming mix the attention it deserves.

As a baking enthusiast who makes almost everything from scratch, I usually shun prepackaged mixes and store-bought baked goods; but I know when to make concessions. And I embrace simple mixes like Hodgson because they make baking cheap, quick, and easy--and only you will know it's not "technically" made from scratch.

I know the website prices the mix at $1.35, but it actually costs 99 cents pre-tax (yes, even in New York). I bought a box last week and made a batch in less than 15 minutes. The 7-oz. package provided me with 12 mini muffins, translating to breakfast for an entire week. Now that's an investment.

Obviously, the mix isn't all-inclusive. It requires 1 egg, 1 tablespoon of butter or vegetable oil, and 3/4 cup milk. All together, this still probably amounts to less than $2, and you most likely already have these staples in your kitchen. So for about the same amount of money--if not less--you can have double the amount of muffins you'd get at bakery or cafe. AND they're much more nutritional (most of the muffins at Dunkin Donuts, for example, have more calories and fat than the donuts).

The beauty of using simple mixes like this is that you can customize the batter to suit your particular taste buds. (I added some brown sugar and mashed bananas to mine). So if you're craving that home-baked taste but don' t necessarily want to spend the time or money on making something from scratch, you can always turn to a 99 cent box of Hodgson's for a quick, simple fix.

Snuggie Bar Crawl, Anyone?

Now, I know this post doesn't really relate to cheap NYC eats or to me personally, per se, but it's too weird to pass up sharing with my readers. Apparently, some New Yorkers have banded together, joining their love of Snuggies and beer in what will be New York City's first ever Snuggie Pub Crawl.

That's right, not only do Snuggies make you look like you belong in a cult, they're actually starting to cause people to form them. The site reads,"Even though it's just a blanket with sleeves, we're sure that you'll enjoy a winter evening spent drinking with friends and the Snuggie™." Hm, Ok.
I'll be the first to admit the Snuggie looks pretty cozy. As someone who suffers from a self-diagnosed body heat retention disorder, I completely understand the desire to be wrapped up in plush warm fabric: I happen to own a light pink floor-length robe myself, and you can bet I wear it every chance I get. Although I've never felt particularly restrained or helpless wearing my robe or wrapping myself in a blanket, I didn't judge the Snuggie and its mission to provide unrestricted comfort. I didn't scoff at the poor acting or improbable scenarios presented in the infomercial. I wanted to give it a chance.

But a Snuggie bar crawl? Really? I understand your hands are unfettered; you don't have to prove it by throwing back shots in your Snuggie in public. Nonetheless, this is why I love living in NYC. Because people are crazy. How do you feel about the Snuggie Pub Crawl. Do we have any takers?

How do we feel about NYC nut vendors?

I am literally "nuts 4 nuts." As corny as that phrase may be, it sums up my feelings pretty well. Walnuts, pecans, pralines, almonds: I love them in all the weird shapes and sizes and degrees of saltiness they come in. They're nutritional, great for on-the-go snacking, and incredibly versatile (what other food product can you appreciate both coated in chocolate AND in a green bean casserole?). Slowly peeling back the foil seal on a jar of Planter's mixed nuts holds a certain level of anticipation for me which only Carly Simon can put into words.

So, naturally, every time I approach a "Nuts 4 Nuts" stand on the street, my senses go awry: I could be in the middle of the most profound thought I've ever thought, or about to get hit by a cab; but once that warm, buttery, sweet smell hits my nostrils, the world stops. My mind goes to nuts. And my stomach says "get them."

Apparently, I'm not the only one for whom NYC nut vendors hold a special intrigue. Someone with a puppet at Spike thought it would be funny to go around to nut vendors and subject them to "nut jokes." It's a little bit funny...

STREET PUPPET: NYC Nut Vendors | Web Junk 20 | SPIKE.com

Given my borderline nut obsession, the prevalence of nut vendors, and the cheap price tag of a little bag, it may surprise you to learn that I've never actually purchased nuts from a "Nuts 4 Nuts" stand. Why? Someone once told me, when I was a little girl, that street vendors cook their hot dogs in dirty city water, and I've been skeptical of every food establishment on wheels ever since (except ice cream trucks, of course, but they sell prepackaged stuff). So whenever I feel the strong urge to buy a $1 envelope of crunchy, sugar-coated nuts, a little unreasonable voice inside my head says "oh, but those nuts might be dirty."

Are my thoughts unreasonable? I suspect they are. How do my readers feel about NYC nut vendors? Take my poll and let's find out:

Online Surveys & Market Research

Free Starbucks Instant Coffee

While I unabashedly despise Starbucks, I understand that some of my readers may not share in my deep contempt. And so I'm setting my strong feelings aside--very briefly--only because they're giving something away for free. Yup, that's right. You can request a free sample of their new instant coffee, "Starbucks VIA Ready Brew," by entering in your name and address on their web site. Hurray! Now you can reproduce that burnt, acrid coffee flavor in an instant!

If you're wondering what "VIA" stands for...I'm afraid I can't help you out: I couldn't find an explanation for the mysterious acronym on the site (then again, I didn't look very hard). But I can provide you with their (self-important? pretentious?) description of their latest creation:

"Unlike traditional instant coffee, which lacks the essential oils that give coffee its flavor and aroma, ours is made with the highest-quality arabica beans, finely ground to release their fullest flavor."

I know, I know, I shouldn't be so hard on them. I just enjoy it too much. Obviously I won't be taking Starbucks up on this offer, so I'm relying on my readers to report back to me with a taste test. (Go for it and prove me wrong!)

My Quest for the Best (and cheapest!) Slice

If there was one food staple seriously lacking from my childhood, it was good pizza. Growing up in the Poconos, we were extremely limited when it came to restaurants in general, and trying to get a decent slice of pizza was like trying to will my freckles to vanish: a hopeless feat which I refused to give up on nonetheless. Every time a new pizza place opened up, my family and I would order a pie with restrained excitement. But our fragile hopes were inevitably smothered by bland, greasy pie after bland, greasy pie.

Occasionally, my mom would make her own pizza from scratch, and while it was delicious, it still wasn't quite like the kind you get from a great pizzeria. There's just something about the crisp crust, the cheesy, stringy mozzarella, that savory pizza smell, that the DIY method simply can't emulate. In this rare circumstance, even my mom agreed that sometimes, homemade just doesn't cut it; sometimes, you have to go out to get the real thing. Fortunately, we knew where to find it: New York City.

One of my favorite things about visiting the city as a kid with my family was the pizza--we always made it a point to grab a slice at some point during our trip. And the amazing thing to me was, we couldn't seem to go wrong. Every slice I devoured fulfilled my highest expectations. Many have speculated about the secrets behind NYC's iconic pizza. Mario Battali attributes at least part of it to the city's tapwater; others believe it's all in the oven (though I haven't seen a concensus on whether coal-fired beats wood-burning). Whatever the reasons, I think it's safe to assume that New York City has the best pizza in the world--or at least outside of Italy.

Since I know live in the heart of Manhattan, I'm always on the lookout for A) the best pizza I can ever hope to taste, and B) the best pizza I can ever hope to taste that's under $2. The former has proved easier to find than the latter. So far, I have found one place that's in the running for part B: Libretto's Pizzeria, an unassuming, brick oven pizzeria located in Midtown on 3rd Ave between 36th & 37th. It's one of those places that, when I walk past and get a whiff, my body involuntarily starts moving towards the door: I feel like a cartoon character following a visible stream of scent.

Libretto's is a small, brick establishment with a long, glass enclosed counter featuring an array of pies with different toppings. I like this place because they're friendly, fast, and a plain slice only costs $2. You can also get three small flavorful garlic knots for a buck. Libretto's offers much more than this of course: you can get whole wheat crust, specialty pies (Gus is a sucker for the Penne a la vodka), and your typical Italian staples (antipasto, salad, pasta, etc.) But I think it's a great quick stop to grab a cheap and delicious slice.

So, my question to my readers is: What's your favorite NYC pizzeria? Do you think you found the best slice for the cheapest price? Offer your two cents.

P.S. Check out this great pizza site!

Dining In: An Affordable Alternative

If there's one thing the area where I live doesn't lack, it's dining establishments. And I'm not talking Chick Fil-A; Murray Hill boasts an astounding selection of high-quality, ethnically diverse menus. Walking anywhere to and from my apartment requires me to pass a restaurant-laden stretch of 3rd Ave in which I get tempting hints of what the other side of those glossy windows have to offer. Every deep inhale of fresh cheesy pizza and Nutella-filled crepes makes me feel like that little girl in Pan's Labyrinth in the "forbidden fruit" scene, in which even the threat of that disgusting pale "thing" (in serious need of nail trimmers) can't stop her from indulging in a single grape.

While the temptation of grabbing a delicious hot meal is ever-present, my significant other and I make it a point to cook our own dinner once a week, usually on Saturdays. This has become somewhat of a highly anticipated weekend ritual for us, and I urge others to give it a try, if you don't do something like this already. It's a great way to save money, learn a thing or two about cooking, and spend time with someone. And who doesn't love leftovers?

So now I will share our Valentine's Day menu, which we made last night, costing us a total of approximately $40. Now, while I wouldn't go so far as to call this "cheap," keep in mind this includes priority seating, a playlist of our choosing, dinner for two, wine, dessert, and generous leftovers. I've provided links to the original recipes, supplemented with my own tidbits of advice.

The Main Course: Ricotta and Spinach pasta
Gus and I agreed we wanted something cheesy with pasta with vegetables. I recently had a delicious pasta meal at an Italian restaurant that fulfilled these requirements, and a quick Google search yielded this seemingly similar recipe. While the instructions are decidedly terse, it's quick and easy, and, best of all, it doesn't require many ingredients. We already had the olive oil and garlic on hand (as any kitchen should), so the remaining ingredients cost us about $17.85. I highly recommend using fresh spinach for this dish. I also used part-skim ricotta cheese and campanelli red tomatoes (just buy the best-looking ones). I followed the recipe fairly closely, with the addition of 2 garlic cloves, 2 tbsp salt, freshly ground pepper, and a dash of hot pepper flakes during the "sauteeing" step. I also recommend using a glass baking dish (about 9 x 9"), and covering the top with tin foil to lock in the moisture. The result was a creamy, cheesy sauce, well-balanced by the fresh veggies. Definitely a great winter pasta dish that hits the comfort food zone. Next time I might try adding some shredded Parmasean or Asiago cheese to the sauce and sprinkling bread crumbs on the top.

The Wine: Santa Cristina, a 2007 red from Cortona, a tiny hill town in Tuscany. It's made from traditional Tuscan Sangiovese grapes, blended with a little Merlot. This wine holds a special place in our hearts because I studied abroad in Cortona two summers ago, and Gus came to visit (there's us enjoying some 2 euro bottles of wine on Toga Night in Cortona...classy). I can pretend to be a wine connoisseur here and start describing the flavors, but I'll just suffice it to say it complemented the meal nicely.

The Dessert: Caramelized Banana Splits with Hot Chocolate Sauce, courtesy of Bobby Flay. I saw Bobby make this recipe on his show "Boy Meets Grill,"and immediately made a mental note to try it out myself. It's simple, quick, and--best of all--combines my three favorite dessert items: chocolate, bananas, and ice cream. The description on Epicurious reads "With its warm, gooey goodness, this dessert will bring bananas Foster to mind." Need I say more? I did everything exactly the way Bobby told me to, except I ommitted the walnuts (because someone has a nut allergy) and topped it off with some crushed peanuts instead (don't be confused: peanuts are legumes, not nuts, and therefore don't irritate Gus's delicate immune system). Now, you can save one or two bucks by buying some Hershey's chocolate syrup, but I really recommend making the chocolate sauce yourself. It's easy and really adds a level of sophistication. I used Ghiradelli bittersweet chocolate. You'll thank me for this one.