When I recently challenged a New York City Council Member Eric Gioia to join me for a week of eating only foods we could buy if we were in the Food Stamp Program, the main idea was to dramatize the need to the raise the average benefit size.

Given that I’m a long-time anti-hunger advocate, who previously worked for the federal government on food stamp issues, I expected that I wouldn’t learn anything that I didn’t already know.

I was wrong.

I learned that it’s one thing to speak, write, research, and think about what it’s like to use food stamps, but it’s another thing entirely to actually live on them.

I ate only $28.30 worth of food during the week ($1.30 per meal), equaling the average weekly allotment per individual in New York City. Many New Yorkers receive even less than that. Significant numbers – including senior citizens, people with disabilities, and people living in public housing – receive the minimum level set by the federal government of $2.50 per week (12 cents per meal).

Since food stamps recipients can’t obtain prepared food from restaurants or take-outs, neither did I. Even though I went to plenty of receptions and meetings for work where free food was offered, since poor people generally can’t get free food in work settings, neither did I.
I don’t want to exaggerate my minor sacrifice. After all, I neither had to go through the often-taxing process of applying for the benefits nor did I have to face judgmental stares when using them. Most importantly, I knew that, at the end of the week, I could go back to eating virtually anything I wanted. I never pretended that this seven-day exercise gave me anything like a true feeling of facing hunger.

The week did reinforce a few things I already knew:

• If you get food stamps, you won’t starve. I didn’t eat as fully, as nutritiously, or as deliciously as I like to, but I had enough to survive. The fact that America even has such a program separates us from Third World countries where mass famine does exist. This experience reinforced my belief that the relevant federal, state, and local government agencies should join together to work far more aggressively to enroll the more than 10 million Americans who are eligible for, but not currently receiving, food stamp benefits.

• Using food stamp benefits at one of the more than 9,000 retail outlets in the city that accept them is better than simply relying on one of the city’s more than 1,200 charitable food pantries and soup kitchens. Such charities – and the tens of thousands of agencies like them nationwide – are vital lifelines for hungry Americans. But many are open only a few times a month and are so strapped for resources that they provide portions that are often smaller, less nutritious, and less varied than even a food stamps diet. So while such agencies clearly need more help, they neither can – nor should – be seen as a replacement for a robust government safety net that includes a sufficient food stamps allotment.

• The cheapest, most filling foods are often the least nutritious. While you can find Ramen noodles for 12 for $1.33, they are very high in sodium and saturated fat.

But here are the outcomes I didn’t expect:

• I couldn’t afford red meat, milk, whole grain breads, anything organic, or any beverages other than water. I was unable to afford fresh apples at a neighborhood farmers’ market for 50 cents a piece, although I was able to obtain older, less tasty apples for 30 cents each at a local supermarket.

• I had to rely on a very limited range of food choices. As much as I once loved Ramen noodles, I never want to see them again.

• If you spend an inordinate amount of time shopping and cooking, you actually can live on a diet only slightly less healthy than the one recommended by the federal government’s food pyramid. But given that many food stamps households are headed by people working one or more jobs – and that many recipients are seniors and/or are disabled – it is not realistic to expect them to regularly spend hours creating each meal.

Perhaps my biggest lesson was emotional. While I’ve never been rich, neither have I ever lacked for basic necessities. If I was waiting on a subway platform and was thirsty, I’d buy a drink. If I wanted to socialize with family or friends, I’d take them to a restaurant. If I woke up in the middle of the night or couldn’t concentrate on work in the late afternoon because I craved a snack, I’d get one.

By denying myself those things for just one week, I learned the most surprising lesson of all: how much I took for granted.

Joel Berg is executive director of the New York City Coalition Against Hunger, and formerly served in the Clinton Administration at the U.S. Department of Agriculture.