Recessionista. Meet the Depressionista.

Screw you Miss FancyPants Recessionista, with your free online grocery coupons and bags of prewashed arugula, the Depressionista is in the house (well, the foreclosed faux-Tuscan mini-manse in Elk Grove that's about to be snapped up for dimes on the dollar by some shady ex-Countrywide exec, but in the house nonetheless). Shattering the stereotype of the tech-averse geriatric who wouldn't know YouTube from a catheter tube, 93-year old Clara has her own Depression-era cooking channel. While thankfully short on recipes that I would've normally associated with Depression-era cuisine (no possum soup, squirrel soup, or any other soup made from small rodents) it is eerily similar to cheap ass bachelor food I ate in college and still enjoy when my wife is out of town. Throw a bunch of shit in a pan, fry it up, then put ketchup on it. If it tasted as horrible as it looked, well, you could always go and get pizza. I don't think pizza was an option during the Depression. Some things are surprising. Clara uses olive oil in some of her recipes and I wonder how available a good extra virgin olive oil was in 1933. I tend to think of the Depression as a Crisco and lard kinda time. Anyway, study up, because when things get really bad, like hock your iPhone at Slim's Gold 'n' Guns Pawn Palace bad, you may need to have a few extra kidney bean and potato recipes up your sleeve.