We are a family of five.

We are not large people. None of us at the moment would be worthy of the nickname "Shaq Daddy" or "Big Mama."

But we do tend to eat three meals a day. At least, most of us do.

So when I was looking for a quick dinner idea one busy day, I grabbed a coupon for one of those frozen meals you throw in the crockpot, and I headed to the freezer section of my local grocery store.

I decided on a "family size" bag boasting eight servings of a hearty-looking stew.

Wow, I thought. Eight servings. And there are only five of us.

And one of us, the 4-year-old, will probably only gnaw on a few carrots and opt for something else, like three bites of a hot dog or four cherry tomatoes or a few bites of corn on the cob.

I myself have been told I have the eating habits of a picky 5-year-old. Now that's just silly. I would eat most of the hot dog (as long as it doesn't have that icky black stuff from the grill on it) AND the cherry tomatoes. I'll probably pass on corn on the cob, though. Too much gets stuck between my teeth.

Other than that, I'll eat just about anything — except for fish. Oh, and lima beans and peas. And maybe a few other things.

But I digress. Over the years I have learned the hard way that it is never good to cook under the assumption that everyone has the same eating habits as I do.

That is why I was proud of my purchase. With eight servings of hearty stew, I thought, we should even have leftovers. Yippee!

In hindsight, the size of the bag should have been my first clue. The boys' school lunchbags are bigger and they only carry enough food for one person.

But I guess I figured all those tiny, frozen-solid hunks of beef, potatoes and vegetables would sort of magically poof up and multiply once the heat and water got to them.

(Maybe I was thinking of Sea Monkeys.)

Imagine my shock when the entire crockpot of hearty stew barely filled four modest-size bowls.

I felt like the master of the workhouse, dolling out a porringer of gruel to Oliver Twist and his fellow orphan boys.

"Please, mom. I want some more."

"Um, err, that's all there is."

And let me tell you, the orphan boys were not pleased.

I flipped the bag over and looked at the serving size — two-thirds cup.

Two-thirds cup! Who considers two-thirds of a cup of stew a hearty meal — or any meal for that matter? Tom Thumb?

No wonder it feeds a family of eight. Eight squirrels, maybe. But then again, they probably don't have a crockpot in their tree.

We've also tried the giant, family-size roast turkey dinner. That one works only because two of the "orphan boys" don't like it and refuse to eat it.

Starvation does wonders for stretching those food dollars.

I have encountered other nutrition-label mysteries.

For instance, Pop Tarts and Tastycakes both come in packs of two. The Tastycake serving size is, naturally, two cupcakes. But the Pop Tart serving size is only one tart. What, then, do you do with the other tart, once the non-resealable foil pouch is ripped to shreds, as it usually is in our home?

Our youngest has solved that problem by taking bites out of both Pop Tarts, thus eating the equivalent of one serving and leaving two halves that are suitable only for the trash can.

Another option is to just let the lone tart flop around naked in the box until it gets eaten, or broken or stale or all of the above.

But I think I've come up with a better solution.

Might I recommend serving that leftover Pop Tart with the "family size" stew or turkey? If you've got a hungry family, believe me, they're going to need it.

CONTACT US: mgates@LNPnews.com or 481-6009. The Voices column is written by a rotating team of New Era staffers. It appears Mondays. blog comments powered by Disqus