Last Thursday night I found myself leaving the Florentine offices very close to dinner time. My usual walk home from my internship is one that usually involves at least two to three impulse buys, walking past street vendors and always discovering a few new shops along the way. As I walk past il Duomo and restaurants filled with tourists mark my path I begin to plot my first purchase. Oil Shoppe. Meatball hero. And I can't wait for it. I had forgotten my wallet on that particular day but had not yet become too discouraged... since all of the euro change I have lying around usually adds up to a significant and surprising amount (something I have come to really love about Europe ). I pull out whatever I can find and count it out... 50 cents, 20, another 20, 10... I only need 3.50 more... come on euro change! But my bag has stopped jingling with the sound of change, and I'm left only with what I've gathered in my hand. One euro. No food back at the apartment. The Oil Shoppe sandwich so close yet so far. I can't believe my bad luck,or my stupidity for having left home without my wallet. What I wouldn't GIVE for the Wendy's dollar menu at a time like this...

As I walk past the Oil Shoppe I decide that I am going to take this stroke of bad luck as a challenge. I am going to make a one euro dinner, and it is going to be better than any four euro panini. Well... maybe. I walk into La Standa and begin to check out prices. Heading immediately for the fresh vegetables, I remember that the string beans I made the other night fed me and all three of my roommates (as a side dish, granted) for only 41 cents. I begin picking string beans, being very selective about which ones I choose because I am going to eat every single one. I head over to weigh them and get a price, and my main dish turns out to be 27 cents, leaving me with a whole 73 cents to go crazy with. As I scan the aisles, I'm shocked looking at prices. The one euro and seventy cent bag of mozz has never looked so expensive or out of reach. I realize that I've been pretty ungrateful for the fact that at any other time I'd shopped here I'd been able to throw anything that looked appetizing into the cart (Important tip: never go food shopping hungry. You most likely don not need those three jars of nutella). I continue on with my challenge and something for 40 cents catches my eye. Chocolate pudding. Now usually I'm not someone who would trust the last forty cent cup of pudding towards the back of the fridge, but I wasn't about to ask questions. 33 cents left. I head back to the vegetables and bag a red pepper, crossing my fingers as I weigh it and wait for the price. Forty three whole cents?! I guess I'm not gonna be eating pepper tonight. I look to the other side of the aisle and spot the bananas, convincing myself that one would give my meal good variety, and would have to be less than that ridiculous forty three cent pepper (which I had bought three of the last time I was here, amazed at how cheap they were, but that's besides the point.) I bring my purchases to the counter and wait for my grand total. My dinner came to a whole 91 cents, leaving me with 9 cents, and a great feeling of achievement.

Back at my apartment, I boiled my green beans just like my Grandma taught me this summer and added browned garlic and olive oil (Is that cheating? We'll just say I used 9 cents worth of garlic and olive oil... right.) The banana and pudding proved to be the perfect dessert, and even though this 91 cent meal may not have been the best I've had thusfar in Florence , it was definitely one of the most satisfying.

Moral of the story: Try not to leave home without your wallet. But if you do, I challenge you all to make a one euro dinner... and let me know how it turns out.

 (Check out that Oil Shoppe meatball sub too!)