Arroz con pollo: 96 cents/serving

There are a lot of variations floating around out there for Latin American arroz con pollo—saffron, achiote paste, long-grain rice, arborio rice, peas, olives. My version, of course, is what I feel to be the best-tasting arroz con pollo for the least amount of money. No extraneous gewgaws or pricey ingredients—just a sofrito of bacon and vegetables; some oregano, cumin, chicken, rice, broth, and tomato paste; and a bottle of beer. Simple, satisfying, and one-pot. It also makes a ton, so it’s good for a crowd or potluck, or for heat-and-eat lunches throughout the week.

Twice-baked potatoes with Guinness onions & kale: $1.35/serving

This is the last of the on-sale Guinness for this year, I promise. But I just couldn’t resist—fluffy baked potatoes with caramelized onions and Guinness and kale and cheddar cheese? It’s just as good as it sounds. Simple, filling, and less than $1.50 for the extremely generous serving you see on this plate.

Beef and Guinness pies: $1.91/each

Sometimes you just want something wrong. Devoid of all vegetable matter and any worthwhile dietary value, full of everything you’ve been told will hasten your inevitable demise. It might be pizza, it might be macaroni and cheese, it might be a bowl full of nothing but beef and carbs. And that’s exactly what this is. No greenery, whole grains, or vegetables to get in the way. Just mouthwateringly tender beef, beer, and flaky puff pastry, tasting every bit as good as it looks and sounds. Toss aside the Weight Watchers pamphlet, ignore the Lose It app (for one day, anyway), and give in.

French onion soup: 84 cents/serving

I am, admittedly, a French onion soup fanatic. I order it whenever I spot it on a menu, whether it’s an upscale French brasserie or a strip-mall Red Robin, and I’m constantly trying to perfect my own version. I’ve tried recipes with bacon (overwhelms everything), recipes with Vidalias or Walla Walla sweets (too cloying), recipes using a mixture of chicken broth and beef broth (too thin-tasting), red onions versus yellow onions, $25-a-pound Gruyère versus store-brand Swiss cheese, you name it. The perfect French onion soup, in my mind, should be beefy and full-bodied, cheesy but not all about the cheese, and redolent with caramelized-onion flavor without being too sweet. And, at long last, I believe I’ve been able to strike that balance, using an ingredient I actually had set aside for another dish.

Celery root and beer soup: $1.43/serving

When we were in San Francisco a couple months ago, one night we ended up at Outerlands, a restaurant in the Outer Sunset that happens to be known for its soup. As I’ve mentioned before, celery root is one of my favorite root vegetables of all time, and there was actually a celery root soup on the menu. Our neighborhood stores at home do not carry celery root, so I was practically beside myself. When I ordered it, however, I tasted plenty of cream and salt, but no celery root to speak of. It could’ve been potato soup for all I knew. This experience has been bothering me for two months. I knew if I could just get my hands on some celery root, I could make the very celery root soup I wished I had had that night. And believe it or not, dear reader, this weekend I found some celery root. It was probably the most paltry, mangy, past-its-prime celery root in the state (at least, of the celery roots not currently residing in a dumpster or landfill), but to me it was victory.

Beer-baked white beans and skillet cornbread: $1.38/serving

No sense beating around the bush: I like beer. A lot. I also have not had any beer for a long time. In fact, it’s been quite a while since I’ve had any alcohol (or caffeine) at all due to a misguided  attempt to live and work more mindfully. Not that I drank that much before (although I did drink too much coffee by anyone’s standards), but couple of beers a few days a week went a long way. You’d think it would get easier the longer you go without, but it actually seems to get worse as time goes on, especially when it comes to coffee. In fact, I apologize to all who’ve had to work with or talk to me in the past week. I thought this dish would allow me a way of finally having beer without actually drinking beer, but instead it caused a great deal of angst and emotional trauma for its requiring me to purchase a large bottle of beer—sweet, wonderful beer—only to pour every last drop of it into a pot of beans. Thankfully for these beans, as well as my sanity, it was actually worth it. These are some of the best beans I’ve had in a very long time, and they do have a pronounced ale flavor.

Flemish beef & beer stew: $2.23/serving

I admit I haven’t always been a fan of beef stew. It’s always seemed a little bland and greasy, full of extraneous vegetables that are either overcooked or undercooked and served with some kind of boring, regimented starch like egg noodles or mashed potatoes. But yet, I like the idea of beef stew, especially on nights like tonight, with temperatures in the 20s and a hearty dose of Portland’s renowned bone-chilling dampness.

This has been my go-to beef stew recipe for a few years now; I think the original version came out of Mark Peel’s “New Classic Family Dinners” (at least, its Flemish identification did), but even if that were the case I’ve tweaked it enough that Peel himself probably wouldn’t recognize it.

If caramelized onions layered with beef and bacon, cooked in dark beer until falling-apart tender and topped with a crusty layer of Dijon-slathered country bread doesn’t sound good to you, we will never be friends.