It started innocently enough, as I imagine it does for many people. A busy week at work, feeling too tired to cook – a quick tap on my phone, and dinner would magically appear at my doorstep. What harm could there be in that? But over time, “occasionally” became “frequently,” and “frequently” morphed into a deeply ingrained habit. My name is Sarah, I’m in my early sixties, and not long ago, I realized my reliance on food delivery apps had become a significant drain on both my wallet and, surprisingly, my well-being.
This isn’t a story about extreme couponing or foraging for wild edibles. It’s about my personal journey of taking a hard look at a modern convenience that had quietly taken over a sizable chunk of my food budget and my peace of mind. It’s about the 30 days I decided to go cold turkey from delivery apps, the challenges I faced, the surprising discoveries I made, and, yes, the money I managed to save.
The Creeping Cost of Convenience
Like many folks my age, I appreciate convenience. After years of juggling work and family, the idea of someone else preparing and delivering my meals held a certain allure. When I first started using services like DoorDash and Uber Eats, it felt like a treat. A Friday night pizza without having to go out, or a comforting bowl of soup when I was feeling under the weather.
But then, life happened. Some health issues made standing in the kitchen for long periods a bit more challenging. My adult kids, though wonderful, still sometimes relied on me for little things that ate into my evenings. And frankly, sometimes I just didn’t feel like cooking. The apps were always there, a siren song of ease just a few clicks away.
I never really tracked how much I was spending. I’d glance at my credit card statement, see “Food & Dining,” and just assume it was groceries and the occasional restaurant meal. It wasn’t until I started seriously planning for a small kitchen renovation – something I’d been dreaming about for years – that I decided to scrutinize my spending with a more critical eye.
The “Oh My Goodness” Moment
I sat down one Sunday afternoon with my laptop, a cup of tea, and my online banking statements. I decided to categorize my expenses for the last three months. Groceries were one column, utilities another, and so on. Then, I created a separate column just for “Food Delivery Apps.” As I meticulously went through each transaction, adding up those $25, $35, even $50 charges, a knot began to form in my stomach.
The final tally for just one month was shocking. It was over $450. Four hundred and fifty dollars! For food that, if I were honest, often arrived lukewarm, wasn’t always what I truly wanted, and came with a side of guilt for not cooking myself. Multiplied by three months, I was looking at well over a thousand dollars. Money that could have gone towards those new countertops I wanted, or a much-needed weekend getaway.
That was my wake-up call. It wasn’t just the money; it was the mindlessness of it. The habit had become so automatic. I realized I was often ordering not out of genuine need, but out of boredom, procrastination, or simply because it was easier than thinking about what to make for dinner.
I felt a mix of embarrassment and frustration with myself. How had I let it get this far? But then, a spark of determination ignited. I decided right then and there: I would give up delivery apps for 30 days. No exceptions. I wanted to see if I could break the habit, rediscover my kitchen, and, of course, see how much I could save.
Embarking on the 30-Day Challenge: The First Week Was the Hardest
The first few days were, to put it mildly, a struggle. My thumb would instinctively reach for my phone around dinnertime, ready to scroll through endless menus. The mental battle was intense. “Just one order won’t hurt,” a little voice would whisper. “You deserve a break.”
I remember on day two, I had a particularly tiring day. My back was aching, and the thought of cooking felt monumental. I opened the fridge, saw a collection of ingredients that looked more like a puzzle than a meal, and almost caved. I actually had the app open, my favorite Thai restaurant selected. But then I thought about that $450, about my kitchen renovation dream. I closed the app, took a deep breath, and made myself a simple omelet with toast. It wasn’t gourmet, but it was food, and it was mine.
Facing the Practicalities (and My Own Excuses)
The biggest challenge in that first week was re-learning how to plan. For years, if I didn’t have a plan, the apps were my safety net. Now, the net was gone. I had to think ahead. What would I eat for lunch? What about dinner for the next few days?
My first grocery trip with this new mindset was an adventure in itself. Instead of grabbing random items, I tried to think in terms of meals. I bought chicken breasts, ground turkey, a variety of vegetables, pasta, rice, and eggs. I even bought a rotisserie chicken – my own form of “convenience food,” but far cheaper than a delivered meal.
The kitchen, which had lately felt more like a pass-through zone, started to see some action. There was more chopping than I was used to, and definitely more dishwashing. I won’t lie; there were moments of frustration. One evening, I tried a new recipe that turned out to be a complete flop. The temptation to just chuck it and order in was immense. But I persevered, salvaged what I could, and made a mental note to stick to simpler recipes for a while.
Emotionally, that first week was a rollercoaster. There was pride in resisting temptation, but also a sense of deprivation. I missed the variety and the feeling of being “treated.” But I also started to notice something else: a tiny spark of satisfaction when I sat down to a meal I had prepared myself, no matter how simple.
Finding My Groove: Weeks Two and Three
By the second week, things started to get a little easier. The constant urge to order had lessened, though it hadn’t vanished entirely. I began to develop a rhythm. I realized I didn’t need to become a Michelin-star chef overnight. Simple, wholesome meals were perfectly fine.
My New Kitchen Companions: Simple Strategies
I started embracing a few key strategies that made a huge difference:
- Basic Meal Planning: On Sunday, I’d jot down a loose plan for dinners for the week. Nothing fancy, just ideas like “Monday: Chicken and Veggies,” “Tuesday: Pasta,” “Wednesday: Leftovers.” This took away the daily “what’s for dinner?” panic.
- Smarter Grocery Shopping: I made a list and stuck to it. I focused on versatile ingredients that could be used in multiple dishes. And I always, always checked what I already had in the pantry and freezer before heading to the store. This alone cut down on waste and impulse buys.
- The Magic of Batch Cooking (Sort Of): I’m not one for spending an entire Sunday cooking for the week, but I started making slightly larger portions. If I cooked chicken breasts, I’d cook an extra one to slice up for a salad the next day. If I made rice, I’d make enough for two meals.
- Rediscovering My Freezer: My freezer became my friend. I started freezing leftover portions of chili or soup for those days when I truly didn’t have the time or energy to cook. A homemade “ready meal” felt like a victory.
I also rediscovered some old favorite recipes, simple dishes I used to make years ago but had forgotten in the haze of takeout convenience. There was a certain comfort in revisiting them, like catching up with an old friend.
Little Victories and Shifting Perspectives
One evening in the third week, I had a craving for Chinese food – my go-to delivery weakness. My finger twitched towards my phone, but I stopped myself. Instead, I looked up a simple recipe for stir-fried chicken and vegetables. It took me about 30 minutes from prep to plate. And you know what? It was delicious. Fresh, hot, and exactly what I wanted. The sense of accomplishment was far greater than any satisfaction I’d gotten from a delivery container.
It was around this time I started noticing other, non-financial benefits. I was eating more vegetables because I was buying them and needed to use them up. I was more aware of portion sizes. I even felt a bit more energetic, which I attributed to eating less processed food.
The most significant shift, though, was mental. I was no longer a passive consumer of whatever a delivery driver brought me. I was actively involved in nourishing myself. It sounds a bit dramatic, perhaps, but there was a real sense of empowerment in that.
Of course, there were still temptations. A friend called one rainy Saturday, suggesting we order pizza and watch a movie. It took some willpower, but I suggested she come over and I’d make my “famous” (newly rediscovered) lasagna. She was a bit skeptical at first, but she agreed. We had a wonderful evening, and she even asked for the recipe!
Week Four: The Home Stretch and Newfound Confidence
As I entered the final week of my 30-day challenge, I felt a real sense of pride. The constant internal debate about whether or not to order had largely faded. Cooking at home had started to feel… normal. Even enjoyable, most of the time.
I found myself looking forward to planning my meals, trying a new (simple!) recipe now and then, and even experimenting a little with spices. My kitchen, once a place I hurried through, was becoming a more welcoming space. I was more organized, my pantry was better stocked with staples, and I had a handful of go-to meals I could whip up without much thought.
The biggest surprise was how little I actually missed the delivery apps. Yes, there were moments when convenience would have been nice, but they were fleeting. The benefits I was experiencing – the financial savings I could already feel, the better food, the sense of control – far outweighed the momentary ease of ordering in.
I started thinking about what I would do when the 30 days were up. Would I go back to my old ways? The thought honestly didn’t appeal to me as much as it might have a month earlier. I knew I didn’t want to completely banish delivery apps forever – there are times when they genuinely can be a lifesaver or a nice treat. But I knew, with certainty, that they would no longer be my default.
The Big Reveal: What I Actually Saved (and Gained)
When the 30th day finally arrived, I felt a mix of triumph and anticipation. I had done it! I had gone an entire month without relying on food delivery apps. Now, it was time for the moment of truth: the numbers.
The Financial Windfall
I sat down again with my bank statements, this time comparing my spending for the “challenge” month with my average spending from the previous three months. Here’s a simplified breakdown:
- Average Monthly Delivery App Spending (Before): Approximately $450. This covered about 3-4 orders per week, with an average cost of $30-$35 per order (including delivery fees, service fees, and tips – those little extras add up!).
- Grocery Spending (During the Challenge Month): My grocery bill did go up, as expected. I spent about $180 more on groceries than my usual monthly average. This accounted for buying more fresh produce, proteins, and pantry staples.
- No Delivery App Spending (During the Challenge Month): A beautiful, glorious $0.
So, the calculation was pretty straightforward:
$450 (saved from no delivery) – $180 (increased grocery costs) = $270.
I had saved $270 in just one month!
Seeing that number in black and white was incredibly validating. Two hundred and seventy dollars! That was a significant step towards my kitchen renovation fund. Or, it could be a nice dinner out at a proper restaurant, a weekend trip contribution, or simply a boost to my savings. The possibilities felt exciting.
It made me realize how much money I had been, quite literally, eating away without much thought. The convenience had come at a very steep price, one I hadn’t fully appreciated until I stepped back.
Beyond the Bank Account: The Unexpected Gains
While the financial savings were fantastic, the benefits of this 30-day experiment extended far beyond my wallet. These, in many ways, felt even more valuable:
- Improved Health Habits: I was undeniably eating better. More fruits, more vegetables, less processed food, and more control over ingredients like salt and sugar. I noticed I had a bit more energy, and a couple of pounds even seemed to have melted away without me really trying.
- Rediscovered Kitchen Confidence: I wouldn’t call myself a gourmet chef, but my confidence in the kitchen grew immensely. I learned that I could put together tasty, satisfying meals. I even started enjoying the process, finding a certain meditative quality in chopping vegetables or stirring a pot.
- Mindful Consumption: This challenge forced me to be more mindful not just about spending, but about eating in general. I paid more attention to what I was consuming, where it came from, and how it made me feel.
- A Sense of Accomplishment: Setting a goal and sticking to it, especially when it involved breaking a strong habit, felt incredibly empowering. It reminded me that I am capable of making positive changes in my life.
- Reduced Decision Fatigue: Ironically, by removing the endless choices of delivery apps, I reduced a source of daily stress. Instead of scrolling through menus for 20 minutes, I could decide on a home-cooked meal much more quickly.
- Appreciation for Simple Pleasures: There’s a unique satisfaction in eating a meal you’ve prepared yourself. It tastes better, somehow. I found a new appreciation for the simple act of cooking and sharing food, even if it was just for myself.
My Reflections: More Than Just Money
Looking back on those 30 days, I learned some profound lessons that go far beyond just my food budget. This experience was a microcosm of how easily we can fall into patterns of convenience that aren’t always serving our best interests, financially or otherwise.
The True Cost of Convenience
I realized that “convenience” is often marketed to us as an ultimate good, but it frequently comes with hidden costs. In my case, it was not just the exorbitant financial price, but also a subtle erosion of my cooking skills, a disconnect from my food, and a less healthy lifestyle. This isn’t to say all convenience is bad, far from it. But it’s worth questioning when convenience starts to control us, rather than us controlling it.
The Power of Intentionality
This challenge highlighted the power of being intentional with my choices. Instead of defaulting to the easiest option, I had to actively choose to plan, shop, and cook. This intentionality spilled over into other areas of my life too. I found myself thinking more carefully about other small, habitual expenses.
Breaking Habits is Hard, But Rewarding
Let’s be honest, breaking any habit is tough. The first week was a genuine test of my resolve. But pushing through that initial discomfort led to such significant rewards. It taught me about my own resilience and the plasticity of my habits. If I could change this ingrained behavior, what else could I tackle?
It’s Never Too Late to Make a Change
As someone in my sixties, it would have been easy to think, “I’m too set in my ways.” But this experience proved that age is no barrier to adopting new, healthier habits, especially when it comes to managing finances and personal well-being. It’s about making a conscious decision and taking those first, sometimes challenging, steps. The feeling of learning and growing is invigorating at any stage of life.
Smart Habits Compound Over Time
Saving $270 in one month is great. But imagine that saving compounded over a year – that’s over $3,200! It showed me how small, consistent changes in spending habits can lead to substantial long-term financial benefits. This is a crucial insight for anyone, but perhaps especially for those of us who are retired or thinking about managing finances on a fixed income.
Life After the Challenge: My New Normal
So, what happened after the 30 days were up? Did I immediately relapse and order a celebratory feast via app? I’m happy to say, no.
My relationship with food delivery apps has fundamentally changed. I haven’t sworn them off entirely, because I believe there’s a place for them. There will be days when I’m genuinely unwell, or have unexpected company, or simply want a very specific treat from a restaurant I love. But they are no longer my default. They are now an occasional, conscious choice, not a mindless habit.
I now probably order delivery maybe once or twice a month, at most. And when I do, I savor it. I plan for it in my budget. It feels like a genuine treat again, not just a way to avoid cooking.
The biggest change is that I enjoy cooking for myself again. I’ve embraced simpler meals. I’ve found a rhythm that works for me. My grocery bill is still a bit higher than it was when I was heavily relying on delivery, but my overall food spending is significantly lower. That extra $200-$250 I’m saving each month is steadily growing in my kitchen renovation fund, and seeing that progress is incredibly motivating.
This 30-day challenge was more than just a financial experiment; it was a journey of rediscovery. I rediscovered my kitchen, my ability to cook, and a sense of control over my habits and my spending. I learned that sometimes, stepping away from what’s easy can lead to something far more rewarding.
If you, like me, have found yourself perhaps a little too reliant on the convenience of delivery apps, or any similar habitual expense, I’d gently encourage you to consider a similar challenge. It doesn’t have to be 30 days; maybe start with a week. Track your spending, try a few simple recipes. You might be surprised by what you learn about yourself, and what you save in the process. It’s a smart habit that can truly enrich your life, one home-cooked meal at a time.
