There are experiments -- Galileo's falling bodies, Einstein's elevator, NBC's "The Age of Love" -- that radically change the way human beings conceptualize the world around them. But little celebrated are the vast majority of experiments that prove the obvious. This is one of those experiments.
With grocery prices spiking -- 2007 had the worst food inflation in 17 years -- it became more important than ever to find out which was more expensive: eating at home or going to a restaurant.
I've eaten too many dishes like chorizo-crusted chatham cod with white coco bean puree and harissa oil and wondered: How could I possibly buy all these ingredients for $30? I've marveled at the existence of $1 double cheeseburgers. Is it possible, I've fantasized, that bulk ordering and efficient use of raw goods actually makes eating out more economical? Just as we no longer each do our own farming, have we advanced to a point of specialization where it is inefficient to cook? Can the world be that wonderful?
The answer, after a week's worth of careful tallying and computation, is: Not even close.
I set strict rules for the experiment. I counted only dinners -- because breakfast and lunch are obviously cheap to make. No alcohol; the restaurant markup would skew everything. No fast food: No way my home cooking could be cheaper than a $1 double cheeseburger, unless I looked the other way when I bought the meat, grilled 500 of them and then tricked all 499 of my friends into slipping me $1.25 for a soda. I also wasn't dining out at any steakhouses because, while maybe I can't get hold of all their quality cuts, I know I can get a New York strip and grill it for a third of the price. No appetizers, no desserts, no coffee. And although I wouldn't deduct for leftovers or unused portions of ingredients at home, I also wouldn't count condiments, oils, seasonings, the cost of running the dishwasher or the labor of cooking and cleaning.
Yes, while I was formulating these rules I really did think this was all going to wind up in some textbook as Stein's Law. Finally replacing my dad's Stein's Law, which stated that you can't talk during "The Rockford Files."
