Welcome to The Receipt, a series documenting how Bon Appétit readers eat and what they spend doing it. Each food diary follows one anonymous reader’s week of expenses related to groceries, restaurant meals, coffee runs, and every bite in between. In this time of rising food costs, The Receipt reveals how folks—from different cities, with different incomes, on different schedules—are figuring out their food budgets.
In today’s Receipt, we follow a drinks influencer with diabetes in Chicago who might make anywhere from $50K to $250K. Keep reading for her receipts.
Skip ahead
The finances
The diet
The expenses
The diary
The finances
What are your pronouns? She/her
What is your occupation? Reluctant drinks influencer/solopreneur
How old are you? The last TV producer I worked with guessed that I am between 36 and 40. I’d say my actual age is considered mature for a California Cabernet Sauvignon, but very young for an Armagnac. Take from that what you will.
What city and state do you live in? Chicago, IL
What is your annual salary? Varies with my level of hustle. Since I started my own business, I make anywhere from $50K to $250K a year before expenses.
How often are you paid? Sometimes twice a year and sometimes more, depending on the state of my client roster.
What are your approximate fixed monthly expenses beyond food? (i.e., rent, subscriptions, insurance, bills)
- HOA: $2,000. I own my studio and this includes all utilities, co-op fees, and real estate taxes.
- Parking: $400
- Car Insurance: $100
- Phone: $140
- Storage: $500. I have thousands of wine glasses, TV set decor, and entertaining supplies.
- Subscriptions: $200. Netflix, Epicurious, Youtube, and NYT.
- Credit Card: Too, too much.
The diet
Do you follow a certain diet or have dietary restrictions? I was diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes in 2021, but didn’t admit to myself it was a problem until two years later. That’s when I started listing dietary requests in all of the reservations platforms, only to have them ignored, misunderstood, and refused by even three-star Michelin chefs. One time, a very famous chef served my dining companion a gorgeous ten-piece dessert while plopping a giant wedge of cheese on my plate. Which, he proceeded to tell me, he’d sent a cook out to Whole Foods to buy for me. With no accompaniments.
I try to minimize processed, white sugar-spiked, and complex carbs at home and when eating out. It’s such a challenge—in this day and age, with diabetes rates on the rise, it makes me crazy that we’re not accommodated.
I should start a charity. Or an action group?
What are the grocery staples you always buy? Apples, berries, and bananas for smoothies. Stone fruits in season. Eggs for easy protein. Greek yogurt, citrus, and herbs (the ones I don’t grow in my Auk hydroponic unit) to make dips and spreads for dinner and, as much good looking crudite as I can find at my local Mariano’s (Kroger). Wisconsin (support local!) cheese, mostly Marieke Goude and Sartori (the only two women Masters of Cheese in WI) for snacking and cooking. Rao’s marinara. Pineapple juice to mix with my AG1, coconut water, grapefruit La Croix, and Diet Coke.
How often in a week do you dine out versus cook at home? I visited 35 cities last year and I have been on the road a lot this year too. Of course, when I am traveling, I eat breakfast out, sometimes two lunches per day out (in order to check out the local restaurant and bar scenes), and sometimes two or three dinners and bar visits. Per day.
When I am at home in Chicago, I try to stay in as much as possible. In this era of my life, I would cook at home every night if I could. Saves money and I can control my dietary preferences, which will hopefully help me stay healthier and live longer. I really wish that chefs and restaurateurs would respect that more.
How often in a week did you dine out while growing up? It was a rare treat growing up. My family lived in Boston, then New Jersey, and then the suburbs of Chicago. My parents’ first choice, even when we were traveling, was any restaurant in a first-rate Chinatown. We were always hosting international students and research assistants of my dad, a PhD research chemist, offering them what was often their first taste of authentic Taiwanese or Chinese food.
And if my little brother or I got straight As, we went to Ponderosa or Sizzler Steakhouse!
How often in a week did your parents cook at home? Daily. Three meals a day from scratch. My mom is a graduate of the Fu Pei-mei cooking school in Taiwan. She is the only daughter of her family—my grandfather figured that if she could cook, she’d be easy to marry off. Because what else would you do with a daughter?
My mom is spunky though, and in addition to graduating from cooking school, she also graduated from college and moved to the US. At first, she lived in a six-person-to-a-room apartment in Queens and worked for the phone company before getting a master’s degree in Library Science.
I will never forget the sound of my mom’s cleaver butchering whole chickens and the sizzle of garlic and chiles in a hot oil-slicked wok. She’d cook at night after returning home from her corporate library job, us kids doing homework upstairs. Our family of four sat down together every day to fresh steamed rice and my mom’s portfolio of Taiwanese classics like beef tendon and noodle soup, whole fish cooked in hot oil with scallions and cilantro, and 70s American classics like Shake and Bake, pork chops, and meat loaf. My house was my friends’ favorite to visit—hot dog fried rice! Peanut butter and jelly mantou steamed buns! Whole head-on ducks curing in the laundry room!
There were also frequent nine-course dinners with visiting students, research assistants, work colleagues, and neighbors. My mom could have cooked in a Michelin-starred kitchen. I was in charge of setting the table and the special cocktail: my blend of fruit juices and Sprite, made into a slushie.
The expenses
Week’s total: $1,601.46
Restaurants and cafés total: $1,326.46
Groceries total: $275
Most-expensive meal or purchase: $250 a private club (wine, oysters, and French fries) and The Shipwright’s Daughter (tasting menu and a bottle of Champagne)
Least-expensive meal or purchase: 30 for drunk girl snacks at 7-Eleven
Number of restaurant and café meals: 9
Number of grocery trips: 6, including grocery, bakery, bodega, and convenience stores
The diary
Tuesday
7am: I re-steam a za’atar bagel from Starship Bagel in Dallas. It’s rock-hard after sitting on my counter for a week, but the old wet-the-bagel-and-bake-in-foil trick worked! I almost never throw out food in an effort to save money, so I will go to great lengths to rescue things.
I top it with Starship’s fermented jalapeño cream cheese and Acme Nova lox, all paired with pineapple juice mixed with AG-1 powder, plus a Diet Coke.
2pm: A long-scheduled lunch meeting at an iconic Chicago French bistro is cancelled, so I work at home and throw together a cheese plate with Nut Thins Flax Seed Crackers (more fiber to counteract my diabetes!), Marieke fenugreek gouda (smells like maple syrup but there is NO sugar—sooo good), Sartori Espresso Bellavitano (yes, coffee and parmesan are delicious together), and some homemade apricot mostarda. I use honey to sweeten it (not white sugar) and use dried apricots that are way past their prime. Like years past their prime. But waste not, want not!
7pm: I make two grocery runs: At Mariano’s (aka Kroger), I spend $105 on a dozen large eggs (the cheapest ones), two-for-$6 packages of okra (the price is why I bought them), a bunch of fruit and veg, and my drink staples. Then I hit up Jewel-Osco (Albertson’s) and spend another $25. I’ve come for fresh ginger, which I couldn’t find at Mariano’s, hence this second stop. Of course, I also toss some other fun stuff into my cart. I LOVE grocery shopping.
9pm: It’s meal prep time, and I cut and chop and cook until I can do no more: Roasted okra and red onions; a Tuscan-inspired white bean, tomato, and spinach stew with repurposed breakfast sausage meatballs from the freezer; and a broccoli Alfredo gratin-type thing. I also brunoise and freeze all of the celery, carrots, and onions in my apartment that are about to turn. I don’t eat a proper dinner, but I’m tasting everything as it bubbles and roasts and cooks.
My co-op does not allow dishwashers in my unit, so I am a clean-as-you-go cook: Everything is washed and dried by the time the last dish is completed. I lived in two apartments in NYC with tiny kitchens, in which celebrity chefs cooked multi-course meals with me doing wine service and cleaning up after them. So, yeah—I am very good at this.
Wednesday
7am: I’m so excited to try the internet-famous “Cleanout Creamy Golden Glow” shot, with turmeric, coconut milk, and juices of a blood orange, lime, and yuzu. I have some amazing Burlap & Barrel New Harvest Turmeric and cans and cans of coconut milk—my mom bought me a lifetime supply from Costco, so I have been looking for ways to use it.
I also slice up the last of the weisswurst I bought last week at Jungle Jim’s in Ohio (a 200,000 square-foot grocery store that is like my Disney World) with an amazing spicy French Pommery Dijon mustard, and a fried egg. Protein is essential!
1pm: For lunch, I have the olive oil-roasted broccoli with a defrosted jar of small-batch Alfredo sauce, which was also purchased on a (different) trip to Ohio, leveled up with a nub of crème fraîche and some Parmigiano Reggiano butter that was lurking in the fridge. I transform the remains of my no-knead jalapeño cheddar loaf into the most delicious bread crumbs, which I place atop it.
NOTE: I only have dorm-sized undercounter freezer and refrigerator units. They are chic stainless-steel Sub-Zero units—so adult in a way, but still very small. And yet, I still manage to lose things in both. I’ll get them eventually!
6:30pm: I add a last-minute clink-and-catch-up with a girlfriend to my schedule. We meet at a new private club in Chicago, and I’m determined to spend as little money as possible in this new era of budgeting and austerity.
I take an Uber Comfort instead of Black. I would have walked, but it was way too windy and rainy. I’ve chosen this bar because I was told their wine markup is very reasonable, and that the wine list is a standout for the city. It’s… okay.
We order all three sparkling wines by the glass, split them, and sip the offerings side-by-side so I can deliver on a wine primer I’d promised to my friend. We pair the wines with six oysters and an order of black truffle French fries, which we devour over conversations about the care of our aging parents and dealing with our siblings and shitty bosses and clients.
We sample the wines blind: a Crémant de Bourgogne at $18 a glass, a Napa Blanc de Blancs at $28 a glass, and a Champagne at $36 a glass. Lesson: Never be fooled by the price tag. A $36 glass of wine is just not right if it’s not mind blowing. In all, I plunk down $250, which definitely is not within my budget.
We were surrounded by a handful of bro-looking guys in Arc'teryx vests and Peter Millar quarter zips, mostly drinking beer and whiskey. We were the only two women in the place aside from the women at the host stand. And by the time we left, the place was empty but for us. Crossing this place off of my list for moving forward.
9pm: My friend and I are dressed up and cute, so we can’t end the day at the sad club. We try to get past the velvet ropes at Kitty’s Cosmopolitan Club, a brand new cocktail bar opened by an acquaintance whose other bars we love.
I’m resigned to the fact that my budget is blown for the day. At the host stand, I wave around my friend’s credentials (she’s a news anchor on TV!), and we muscle our way into a table at the four-day-old, 60-seat, reservations-recommended spot. I try to order some dim sum, but the order gets lost in the fun. In the end, we have no food but amazing cocktails served to us by men in tuxedos pushing carts. I spend $150. Whoops.
11:30pm: After saying goodbye to my friend, I start to walk home and it begins to rain right in front of a 7-Eleven that I used to go to when I lived in the building right across the street. I dash inside to escape the rain and immediately get the munchies.
A croissant breakfast sandwich (because we do not have proper bodega bacon, egg, and cheeses in Chicago), a bag of dill-flavored Cheetos (surprisingly good), and a bag of Pepperridge Farm Sausalito cookies—clocking in at $30—made it to my studio and into my belly. I had to soak up the cocktails. It was like being in my 20s again!
I definitely drink a lot less now that I am on a GLP-1. My tolerance is definitely not what it used to be. Upside, my bar tab is generally lower, but the downside is there are more hangovers.
Thursday
10am: Two Advil, a Diet Coke, and a Tangerine Liquid IV Immune Support later, and OOF. I haven’t felt like this in quite a long time.
Normally I might order something greasy from Doordash to speed up my recovery, but I am on a restricted budget until I collect some payments from clients (the joys of being a contractor!). I cancel all appointments, revenue opportunities be damned, and suffer through it.
2pm: I heat up one small skillet of the Tuscan bean situation I made on Day 1, add some BelGioioso burrata, and garnish with the good olive oil. I chase it with some hibiscus strawberry tea.
For the rest of the day, I snuggle up in bed and watch Your Friends and Neighbors, season one.
Friday
6:30am: A turmeric shot and a Diet Coke get me out the door into the gray and rainy day. I’m first in line at Chiu Quon Bakery in Chinatown, a weekly ritual whenever I’m doing an errand day with my mom out in the suburbs, where my parents live. I nab $50 worth of steamed mantou, just-fried turnip cakes, rice crepes with shrimp, and eight fresh-from-the-oven egg tarts.
The best Chinese bakery in Chicago also happens to be women-powered. I love watching the women stocking the shelves and practicing my fifth-grade-level Mandarin with whoever’s behind the counter. It is not the best moment for my diabetes, though: It’s all I can do to resist buying all the sweet baked buns, mini mooncake flavors, and sweet cake slices.
Our family's love language has always been food, so I always bring something special every visit. I also tote home a sparkling rosé cherry wine that I discovered on a trip to Michigan and more Starship Bagels from my Dallas trip.
8:30am: The aforementioned bakery haul is enjoyed with my mom and dad at the kitchen table I grew up sitting at, complete with a white board with every color erasable marker for working out chemistry and math equations with Dad.
1pm: It is the week of my birthday but I will be out of town on the actual day, so mom and I go to one of our favorite lunch spots in the burbs, the bar at Wildfire, for a pre-birthday celebration.
Rosé methode Champenoise for me, merlot for mom. We split the whole branzino and sides of creamed spinach and mashed potatoes. For dessert, we share a Key lime pie slice; we bring home slices of the Door County cherry and butterscotch banana pies for Dad. He generally sleeps in most days, but he will get up for sweets! He grew up on a sugar plantation that my grandfather managed and has always had a Major League sweet tooth.
The total comes to $150, but I redeem my accumulated frequent diner points and my birthday bonus, so I only spend $30. I leave a $40 tip for our server Sam, who we adore.
8:30pm: I get home late after hours of reorganizing Mom’s gardening supplies in preparation for spring planting. I warm up another serving of my Tuscan white bean Stew and add the other half of the Belgioioso burrata to it for a late dinner.
Saturday
3:30am: I start the day with a turmeric shot and Diet Coke. I’m going to see a woman about a bagel at the Cultured in Door County, Wisconsin. It takes four hours to drive there from Chicago, and the bakery is only open Saturday and Sunday from 8am to 2pm (or until everything is sold out). I do not want to miss out on anything, so I’ve got up before the sun to get my hands on their goodies.
5:30am: I stop to fill up gas and get a pre-breakfast bite, but the Hardee’s attached to the gas station was not open. I pop into the Love’s Travel Stop and buy an Olipop Cream Soda (probiotics, right?) and Jack’s Links Smoked Bacon (what does the new food pyramid instruct us to do now?) for $10.
8:30am: I would have been first in line at Cultured but for the local sheriff who I had to crawl behind for 30 miles.
Nevertheless, I get the last parking space in the lot before the locals started parking on the side of the country road. I order one of everything to go: bagels, their signature spreads, marbled rye, and focaccia. To eat in, I get the mushroom toastie plus a mint and lemon Spindrift. My total comes to $125.
It’s delicious, but the best part is watching the four-women-strong kitchen team make all of the bagels and crush all of the cooking for the constant stream of locals coming in.
12pm: The bagels smell so amazing in my car that I have to pull over and eat the cheddar bagel with elote cream cheese. YUM.
Now I’m onto my next destination: Sway Brewery, a finalist for a James Beard Award, for Outstanding Wine and Other Beverages Program. I am the first customer into the newly reopened space. I was skeptical about this visit, but I am WOWED. I sit up at the counter with the founder and brewmaster, Matt Sampson, sipping and chatting through eight of his artisanal brews. They’re made with local regeneratively grown grains, all pulled from gorgeous Czech taps that do magical things, like pull an entire glass of foam. (They call it the milk tube.)
Do eight 2-ounce beers count as lunch? Matt is a PhD in chemistry, so we chat about CO2 and calcium and all of the science. My tab (which also includes some merch) comes to $105.
7pm: After much consultation with locals, I decide to visit Alexander’s Restaurant, a classic Wisconsin supper club. I’ve never been to one before.
I start with a Wisconsin brandy old fashioned, sour—aka spiked with a tart soda or sour mix. (I could have also opted for sweet, which employs a lemon-lime soda, or press, a 50/50 mix of lemon lime soda and club soda) I also order a three-cheese artichoke dip and the lamb chops. The entree comes with soup (lobster bisque) and a vegetable (haricots verts and potato gratin).
I eat less than a quarter of it and pack it all up for Easter Sunday lunch with mom and dad. (It turned out to be plenty for all three of us when I added the tomato, olive, and cheese focaccia loaf I’d purchased from Cultured.)
While I was enjoying the local flavor (both the food and the people), a very well-respected cocktail writer, who recently moved to Milwaukee from Brooklyn, texted me that I was NOT at a proper supper club (oh well!) but that I was .1 miles away from the best classic Wisconsin ice cream drinks. I look up the hours for the spot and realize it closes in 15 minutes. I grab my check and pay—it comes to $113.90—and dash over.
8:17pm: The English Inn is like a wacky Disney World for adults who love fine spirits like Pappy Van Winkle bourbon, classic Wisconsin cocktails, a great all-you-can-eat fish fry on Fridays, and medieval suits of armor and paraphernalia. And, of course, ice cream drinks.
I order a Pink Squirrel and a Grasshopper ($62.56) and I am so glad that I did—the bartenders churn cocktail ingredients into local ice cream, one at a time. Both drinks come topped with a giant dollop of fresh whipped cream.
I notice people are grabbing these as takeout, so I have one taste of each, pack them up, and go to sip them in front of the fireplace at my hotel lobby.
Sunday
7am: It’s a turmeric shot and Diet Coke again. I jump in the car to head to my parents’ house for Easter lunch—I find the bag of smoked bacon jerky I’d previously gotten from the gas station and finish it.
10am: My plan is derailed as I realize I’m about to pass the Mars Cheese Castle in Kenosha, Wisconsin, which, IYKYK, is a mecca for every flavor of Wisconsin cheese (and some others), meats (summer sausage! Kielbasa! brats!), beer, and accoutrements.
I snack on a few samples of cheese I have not tried before and also pick up a bunch of other styles that I never see in my local grocery stores. My final haul includes 18-year-old sharp cheddar, a Tuscan-style fontal, and a hatch chile BellaVitano. It all comes to $55.
12pm: Easter Lunch with mom and dad features my Alexander’s leftovers. I make us cute plates so none of it looks like leftovers, but like a plated meal at a white tablecloth restaurant. We toast with rosé cherry sparkling wine I brought from Traverse City.
2pm: Not only am I dealing with diabetes, I am also going through perimenopause, neither of which were dealt with by my primary care doctor. So, I have to go to specialists and purchase medicines at my own expense.
Our healthcare system is very broken. I have large medications bills, spend too much time on the phone with the insurance company, and go back and forth with them trying to find coupons and discount pharmacies—all to get my meds at the lowest prices possible. Why are life-prolonging and -saving drugs not covered? These are not vanity medications. Welcome to being a single, self-employed woman.
The most recent pharmacy bill might break me. No dinner because I am so depressed about my money challenges and I have to get up at 3am to pack and travel to Mystic, Connecticut.
Monday
3am: I suck down a Diet Coke and turmeric shot, then start packing for my trip to Mystic.
5am: The Admiral’s Club at O'Hare International Airport opens and I beeline for the gratis food stations. I grab a banana, the egg of the day from the hot line, and two sausage links.
12:30pm: I check into the Delamar Hotel in Mystic and they give me a glass of prosecco (I love this sparkling wine ritual at all of the Delamar Hotels). I find a chocolate amenity in my room, which I immediately snack on.
3:30pm: I meet with chef/partner Renee Touponce and beverage director Jade Ayala, who operate seafood joint The Oyster Club and its attached outdoor dining deck The Treehouse, plus neighborhood bistro The Port of Call and its downstairs bar, The Dive.
These women and their team are AMAZING. I chat with an oysterman from down the street who shucks his oysters and clams for us. We sip on divine women-made cocktails and wines, all while tucking into award-winning Chef Renee’s spins on empanadas, foie gras mille-feuille, oeufs mayo, and larb salad. When the chef is cooking for you, there is no saying no! I spend about $200.
7:45pm: I am a little late for the other reason I flew to Mystic, The Shipwright’s Daughter. Its chef, David Standridge, was named the James Beard Award winner for Best Chef, Northeast in 2024, and he was nominated in the national Outstanding Chef category just this year.
This is one of those nights where I have, more or less, three dinners. And a bottle of Champagne. And more cocktails. And some blood orange limoncello at the end! Chef David specializes in supporting regenerative farming and cooking invasive species into fantastic dishes. It costs me $250.
I did not mean to, but I ate every last crumb of the six dishes. I have no regrets.