I've been buying my meat from a wholesaler who sells nigh exclusively in the form of a 10 pound bag. There are pounds of chicken, ground beef, pork chops, sausages... Everything except the really good cuts of steak, all in a bag large enough to feed Stewart, my fiance, and I for a month. For a maximum of $15. And I buy them.
Once I buy them, I bring them home and separate everything into approximately 1 pound sections and put each chunk into a small freezer bag. Then I label them with the type and date of home storage. Then I cram them into the freezer.
I feel compelled to buy in bulk. I'm fairly successful tricking myself into thinking it's for the price breaks, but it's really because I'm lazy. I don't want to shop more than once a month, if I can avoid it.
When Stewart and I moved into our apartment, we had to curb our bulk buying due to storage concerns. I don't have space in my kitchen for two months worth of mini-wheats. The freezer has no shelves, and I got sick of the avalanche of toe shattering chicken breasts that spilled out every time I wanted to get an ice cube. Now the freezer is empty except for the ice trays and a few loaves of bread I overbought 4 months ago when there was a buy one, get two sale at the Big Y.
The moment I realized I had crossed the bridge from "I spent $30 at the grocery store and all I have is several types of cheese and some Doritos" Erin to "responsible adult, Friday evening Shopper" Erin happened on the phone. My friend, Tara, and I were catching up after she had moved in with her boyfriend. We were sort of having a surreal moment realizing we were both wandering down a very traditional path, even though our younger selves never would have seen it coming. As it turns out, Tara is buying her meat in bulk, too.
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