Calling on the shopping angel

GIVE ME A BREAK:READING LORNA BYRNE'S Angels in My Hairhas me looking for angels everywhere. The one that I'm searching for especially is the angel Epicurious, who I hope may shed celestial light on how to feed my family while still being able to pay the mortgage, writes Kate Holmquist.

You see, it's taking up an inordinate amount of my time - running between Lidl and Tesco and Dunnes and the local butcher's and fruit and veg shops to find the best value. And on a really tight budget, finding the best value makes the difference between having enough grocery money to last the week versus facing another three days of plain pasta or beans on toast.

The National Consumer Agency says that those of us trying to feed hungry, growing children are facing high prices because we've allowed ourselves to pay too much over the years, making Ireland a place where multinationals know they can "maximise their profits".

It's our fault, in other words, we silly individuals so willing to be duped.

To which I respond, maybe we are all too busy working in this crazy money-based work-camp called Ireland, pursuing at least two jobs per family without proper childcare support and long commuting times - so when it comes to food purchases, we have no more than 10 minutes to grab something vaguely healthy-looking off the shelves to cook in the available 10 minutes before doing the homework with the kids and stumbling into bed faint with fatigue.

The agency's rationale is that we are "individuals" making "choices", so the agency can only throw its hands in the air and warn us to watch our wallets.

This is why I need Epicurious (I'm lighting a candle and summoning her as we speak, I think her wings may very well take the form of discarded till receipts).

I live on an extremely tight budget.

Fish is an expensive rare treat. Juice ditto and it's tap water all the way (not bottled). Lean mince from the local butcher is made to last. I don't buy organic chicken - I buy the cheapest chicken.

We make our own pizza. It's porridge for breakfast, no processed cereals unless they're on a special half-price offer. Don't tell me the subtle difference between this or that type of apple - I buy the cheapest bag of apples I can find. And don't ask me the brand-names of anything - I buy the best value cheddar (how I'd love Camembert but when nobody but me is going to eat it, there's no point wasting money on it.)

As for comparing olive oils to find the fruitiest, the most piquant, the most virginal - who are you kidding? It's basic store-brand sunflower oil in this house and our salad dressing (never made with salad in bags - too expensive) is home-made. I make our tomato sauce from tinned tomatoes and/or passata completely ignoring the attempted seductions of Messrs Oliver, Grossman and Dolmio.

As for fresh fruit in season - €4.99 for a punnet of strawberries? Don't make me laugh And they're 79p up the road in the North. If only I had time to travel, though I'm not sure the price of the petrol and the time lost in work production would actually make it worth it. I reckon the supermarket chiefs have this figured out. They know exactly how much exploitation we're willing to accept.

Have you ever noticed how the very people who tell us that we should buy food fresh and in season, organic if possible, then cook it up in 15 minutes of mad creativity after an exhausting day's work, are the very people charging the biggest overheads on the raw ingredients? And I'm not just talking about Jamie Oliver's jar of pasta sauce costing €3.09 in a shop near me.

The new immigrants are really good at using cheap ingredients, they tell us. Good for them, but I think I'd be stared at with disbelief if I went to the local butcher and asked for a nice slab of pork belly to cook into a confit to go with the butter beans I've been steeping overnight, never mind the look on the kids' faces when I'd serve it up.

There's something totally nuts about an economy where you can by a burger for €1 in McDonald's, while a bag of potatoes costs €4.59 and the spuds start sprouting before you get them home.

This is why I'm calling on Epicurious. Because after all my careful spending - which I believe is not too different to the careful spending of most families - food is still outrageously expensive.

So I need Epicurious to spread her angel wings and float through Lidl and Dunnes and Tesco and the local shops for me to find the best value.

When she brings me the list, and I find the six hours it will take to visit all these places, perhaps then the National Consumer Agency will be satisfied.