Splurge: watermelon sorbet: 71 cents/serving

As you may have noticed, watermelons are cheap right now. Like, really cheap. They’re also very large. Like, the size of a small child and 39-cents-a-pound large. Which is great if you’ve got a huge family or plan on putting slices out for a barbecue, but what to do if you’ve got a household of two people who struggle to eat 12 pounds’ worth of watermelon in a week? Buy a cheaper, smaller watermelon that probably costs three times as much per pound? Of course not! Buy the big watermelon, eat half of it, and make this sorbet with the other half. It’s one of the most refreshing summer desserts there is, and if you buy mini chocolate chips (which I didn’t this time), it even looks just like watermelon, which for some reason makes it taste even better.

Splurge: apple-miso ice cream: 26 cents/serving

Believe it or not, this ice cream was not born of a pregnancy craving. It was born of the arrival of a new ice-cream maker to replace our Kitchen Aid stand-mixer attachment, which ceremoniously sprung a leak around the time I became pregnant and REALLY could’ve used some ice cream. I was so excited to finally have ice cream again that I didn’t care what kind it was—I just wanted it now. Apples were the only fruit we had on hand, and a quick perusal of Epicurious confirmed they have been paired with white miso before in desserts, so onward I pressed with the idea. Was it a good idea? The jury’s still out. It tastes exactly as it sounds—sweet and apple-y, with a salty, umami undertone of miso. I think my taste buds were more confused than anything else. For that reason I don’t necessarily recommend it as a pregnancy dessert (a time when one doesn’t exactly need any more confused body parts), but it would probably make a great palate cleanser in between courses of an Asian meal, or unexpected dinner-party dessert.

Splurge: honey-lime chicken enchiladas: $3.32/serving

This is a recipe I have avoided putting on the blog for some time, as it is not only expensive and somewhat unphotogenic, but uses quite a few processed ingredients, including canned enchilada sauce. However, it is also a recipe that cannot be ignored, because people are obsessed with these enchiladas. Almost unhealthily so. The mere mention of their impending existence can make or break B.’s week, and they’ve been served at conventions (by one of my brothers-in-law, who has a food handler’s license), family gatherings and all manner of celebrations. They’re sweet and spicy and tangy and rich and so utterly wrong they’re nothing but right, and I have no doubt anyone you serve them to will agree.

Splurge: mint chocolate chip ice cream: 34 cents/serving

A few words of warning: This is not the kind of all-natural, organic, wholesome and virtuous ice cream you sometimes see in those impossibly chic, soft-focus DSLR photos on other food blogs, the kind written by women who sew their own aprons and write 600-word ruminations on how their backyard heirloom pear tree looks against the winter sky. This ice cream uses artificial coloring—FROM GROCERY OUTLET (I bet you didn’t even know they sold artificial coloring, did you? That’s because it’s hidden away next to the 50-cent bottles of pre-ground spices that look like they spent the last decade in a moldy shipping container)—artificial flavoring, and For Maximum Value chocolate chips, otherwise known as the sub-store-brand brand. “Why is she doing this,” you might ask, “when she has a perfectly good mint plant in the backyard?” Reason No. 1: Because the chickens have stomped on most of the mint plant, which is now in the process of regenerating behind a shield of chicken wire. Reason No. 2: Because B. likes mint chocolate chip ice cream this way, and because he is the best husband in the entire world, it’s how I make it when there’s no real mint around.

Splurge: orange Creamsicle sherbet: 36 cents/serving

So…oranges are 46 cents a pound this week at the store. Not one to pass up a good fruit sale (if I died tomorrow that would probably be my epitaph), I bought a couple pounds of them with the intent to make a copycat version of Dreyer’s Swiss Orange Sherbet, which I love but has since been discontinued. However, this necessitated my having to purchase chocolate chips five days in advance. Now, I’m not a huge dessert person, and I’m even less of a chocolate person, but five days was just too much. They fought the good fight, those chips, but five days’ worth of 10 pm realizations that there are chocolate chips in the cupboard is a tall order for anyone. With the chocolate chips gone and no budget for more, I had to completely overhaul my dessert vision.

Splurge: pear-ginger sorbet: 52 cents/serving

This unexpectedly creamy and fragrant sorbet tastes artificially flavored, and I mean that in the best possible way. It’s so fruity and, well, pear-y, that it’s almost unfathomable that the only ingredients are fruit, water, and a little bit of sugar. You may have to let the pears sit out for a few days to become ripe enough; don’t even think of using rock-hard ones. You will be rewarded for your patience.

Splurge: Vietnamese beef noodle soup, hue-style (bun bo hue): $4.34/serving

As is often the case with upright chest freezers, sometimes things get forgotten about beneath the boxes of frozen butter and yogurt containers full of stock. Things you remember buying, but can’t exactly recall why—marked-down oxtails, turkey gizzards, a single vacuum-sealed plantain. This weekend it was the oxtails and a Ziploc bag of short-rib bones with most of the meat scraped off that had me scratching my head. What, exactly, had I planned to do with a measly 1 1/2 pounds of oxtails and some meatless bones? Make a stock, probably, but for what? It’s not enough meat for subtly flavored pho, and would make a pretty weak oxtail soup. Instead I decided to use them in a soup that gets enough flavor assistance from other ingredients: bun bo hue (pronounced “hway”). It’s similar to pho in that it includes beef and noodles, but the type of noodles, flavorings, and preparation are completely different. I obviously had bought the oxtails pre-$35-a-week, because I could NEVER afford them now, therefore, this meal didn’t exactly come out of our current budget. It’s not cheap, but as is always the case, it’s cheaper than eating out.

Splurge: pink grapefruit-champagne sorbet: $1.47/serving

Granted, this might sound like something served at a Midwestern Passion Party in decoratively etched plastic goblets from Dollar Tree, but it’s probably one of the most refreshing sorbets you’ll ever taste, not to mention the perfect antidote for heavy winter stews and braises. It’s also seasonal—meaning grapefruits are probably on sale at your local supermarket right now—and super-easy to make. Even if you don’t have an ice cream maker, you can easily turn this into a granita: Just freeze it in a wide, shallow container and then break it up with a fork.

Splurge: short-rib lasagna: $3.74/serving

Picture your current idea of lasagna: red sauce, ground beef, watery ricotta, mozzarella, maybe some spinach or even sausage for interest. Got it? Good. Now crumple it up and throw it away. Maybe even stomp on it a little. Because this is The Best Lasagna Ever. I know a lot of people lay claim to “the best” lasagna, and while some versions very are good, none of them come even close to the majesty that is Short-Rib Lasagna. (Capitalization intentional.) Everything from the tender, deeply flavored shreds of beef to the rich béchamel and tangy cheese does nothing but highlight the abject inferiority of other lasagnas. So long as you’re willing to splurge on the price of ingredients, this is a must-make.

Splurge: the “little black dress” of chocolate cakes: 27 cents/slice

Yes, this is a cake. I hate baking cakes. It’s also chocolate, which is not really my gig and worse, it’s just boring old plain chocolate, with nothing in or on it. And it’s a bundt cake, which is OK if you’re going all retro and making Tunnel of Fudge or some sugar-powdered ’50s coffee-cake thing, but for just a plain old chocolate cake? Really?

Yes, really. Don’t worry; I don’t have a brain tumor. I have a bit of a kitchen-gadget addiction, and in taking stock of the several shelves’ worth of toys and tools I have in the basement, I came across a bundt pan. I remember buying it several years ago for an ill-fated root-beer-float novelty cake for my father-in-law’s birthday, but WHY is it still here?