The stuff I don't do (and you don't have to either)
Okay. We've talked chicken, bulk buys, produce, cheaper-isn't-always-the-win, cook by look, and elevation. Now let's talk about the stuff I just don't do, because I think this is the part of the class that actually gives people permission to relax.
I'm super not a chef. I want to say that again because I think a lot of people come into meal planning assuming there's a "real" version of this they're supposed to be doing, and they're failing at it. There isn't. There's just what works for your kitchen.
Here's my actual list of stuff I skip
Anything with a candy thermometer. If a recipe needs precise temperature, precise timing, or the phrase "soft ball stage," I'm out. I don't do sauces that can break. I don't do baking beyond the box-mix level. My brain doesn't work that way and I stopped pretending it did a couple years ago. If that's your thing, great, teach that class. Not this one.
Fancy herb and produce management. I buy what I'll use in three days, we covered that already. But I want to be honest about the flip side too: I do not have a system for the basil that's going to die in my crisper drawer anyway. It just dies. I've made peace with it.
Elaborate Sunday batch cooking. You knew I was going to say this one. Everyone's seen the Pinterest version, the fourteen containers lined up in the freezer, the whole Sunday gone. I tried it. I burned out in about three weeks. Here's my actual opinion on it: batch cooking is oversold. I'd rather you make dinner easy five nights than heroic one Saturday and then never again. Cap your prep time. Mine's 45 minutes, full stop, and I mean that as a rule I actually follow, not an aspiration.
Macro counting, calorie tracking, any of that. I'm not a nutritionist. If you need that, there are people way more qualified than me. My version of "balanced" is a protein, a vegetable, a starch, and I'm done thinking about it. That's the whole bar.
A perfectly planned week with zero flex. I tried that once, scheduled dinner down to the day and the minute, and it fell apart by Tuesday because James got an ear infection. Now I build in a night that's just leftovers or eggs on purpose. Insurance, not failure.
Why this matters for your budget, not just your sanity
Every one of these is a place where people quietly quit meal planning. They try to do the impressive version, it doesn't fit their actual week, they burn out in a month, and they're back to 5:30 panic and takeout math. The stuff you skip is just as important as the stuff you build. Skipping the wrong things keeps you in this long enough for it to actually save you money.
A practical step for this week
Look at your template from the first lesson. Circle one thing on it that you've been doing because you think you're supposed to, not because it's working. Maybe it's a recipe that always flops. Maybe it's a category of meal prep that eats your Saturday. Cross it off. See what happens to your week without it.
This is actually where the bulk-buy thing with Haylee started, if I'm honest. I wasn't trying to build a system, I was trying to get out of doing something I didn't want to do alone, which was standing in a Costco parking lot arguing with myself about whether ten pounds of ground beef was a good idea. I mentioned it to her at church, she said she'd been thinking the same thing, and now we split a cooler once a month and neither of us does the big awkward bulk-buy trip solo. It wasn't a grand plan. It was just me getting rid of a part I didn't like.
That's really the whole message of this lesson. You don't earn points for doing the hard version. You get the same dinner on the table either way.
Before next time: pick one thing off your plan that's not pulling its weight, and just stop doing it. See if anyone even notices.