While you were out buying duct tape and plastic earlier this month, I was worrying about food. Good little citizen that I am, I responded to the heightened terrorism alert and possibility of war with alarm and fear. It’s all still nebulous in my mind what these scenarios might look like, but if they happen, I know I will be hungry.

So the other morning, as I was picking up a few items from the market, I bought $100 worth of canned goods. In case you are not a regular buyer of canned goods, let me tell you: That’s a lot of food.

But if you’re like me, you keep a stock of canned goods anyway. My family lives in a neighborhood where we can’t always get the fresh food we want, or the market is closed, or we eat so late at night that the whole county is closed.

I’ve been known to open a few cans and spontaneously whip up a meal that begins with vegetarian pate, and has as its centerpiece sauteed butter beans and tomatoes with dried herbs over rice, and baked pears for dessert.

Variety in the can cupboard can be the start of a beautiful meal.

But on this shopping day, my goal was less innovative and more paranoid. I wanted to combine well-balanced meals such as tuna fish with French-cut green beans and baby mushrooms, and a dessert of pop-top pudding. Or kidney beans with tomatoes, artichokes and corn, followed by apricots marinated in Muscadet and grilled over a fire.

For the first time in my life, I bought all name brands. If I am going to face a disaster, I rationalized, I want the best quality mushy peas available.

Before I returned home, I called ahead to take requests.

“Get pasta,” my disaster companion said. “We like pasta.”

“Pasta?” I said, instantly exasperated. “That’s not in a can. It has to be in a can for it to be safe to eat during a disaster. Don’t you know anything about emergencies?”

“Get SpaghettiOs then,” he said.

There’s no accounting for taste, I thought, especially during an orange alert. I tossed the SpaghettiOs into the cart.

When I got home, I called my sister in Washington, where snow had pummeled her neighborhood. “Do you have enough food?” I asked. She assured me she was prepared for any state of emergency.

“I was in the store last week, and I saw all those people buying duct tape and water,” she said. “I went right to the candy counter and bought Dove bars, Coke – real Coke, not Diet Coke – and a pack of cigarettes – and I haven’t smoked for 20 years. I’m not buying green beans. Who wants to die eating that crap? I’m going out happy.”

Then she paused for a second and said: “But now all that food in the basement is calling to me.”

That’s one of the hazards, so to speak, of preparing for whatever might happen in an emergency. While you’re waiting, how do you keep from eating the food you have in storage?

You would have a particularly difficult conundrum if you owned a copy of Laura Karr’s cookbook “The Can Opener Gourmet,” a paean to convenience foods in cans and jars. A lover of gourmet food, Karr still has a practical sense of daily life. You can’t eat as if you have a sous chef every night, and that’s why we have canned goods to begin with. She defies the benefits of fresh, and heads right for the canned good aisle with recipes like Pasta Puttanesca, Clams Newburg and Beef Stroganoff Sauvignon.

Her Lemon Bars, by the way, have no lemon in them, and she makes no apologies. More than anyone, we in Maine understand how difficult it can be to get a lemon if you forgot to pick one up at the market which is 15 miles away and is the closest store in town.

Karr’s book wouldn’t be a good disaster relief book because many of the recipes do call for dairy products. But she has good instincts and her “Stocking Your Pantry” section is a good beginning list of canned and jarred goods that could see you through any long stretch of time – whether it’s winter or war.

My advice to you, my fellow Americans, is forget about duct tape. Go be bountiful: buy sardines, carrots, applesauce and nuts in a can.

Recipes from “Can Opener Gourmet” reprinted with permission from author Laura Karr.

Bow-Tie Pasta with Pesto Chicken and Walnuts

Serves 6

12 ounces bow-tie (farfalle) pasta

1 10-ounce can chicken (drained)

1 8-10 ounce jar pesto sauce

1/2 cup chopped walnuts

Cook pasta according to the package directions.

Place the chicken in a large bowl and, using forks, pull it apart into bite-sized pieces. While the pasta is still warm, add it to the chicken and toss thoroughly. Add the pesto sauce and toss to coat. Add the walnuts and toss once more. If you have eaters who don’t like walnuts, serve them separately in a bowl, to be sprinkled on as you would Parmesan cheese.

Though this dish is easier to toss when it is warm, it may be served cold as well.

Beans in Barbecue Sauce with Whiskey

Serves 6

3/4 cup ketchup

2 tablespoons prepared mustard

1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce

1 tablespoon maple syrup or molasses

1 tablespoon brown sugar

1/4 teaspoon garlic powder

1/4 teaspoon onion powder

1/4 teaspoon bottled lemon juice

1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper or 1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper

1/4 teaspoon whiskey (optional)

2 15-ounce cans ranch-style or pinto beans, drained

Combine all the ingredients except the beans and stir. Add the drained beans and heat, in the microwave or on the stovetop, to the desired temperature.

Apricot Bread with Almond and Rum

Serves 8

1 15-ounce can apricots, drained

1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour

1 1/4 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon salt

2/3 cup sugar

1/3 cup vegetable or nut oil

1 teaspoon almond extract (optional)

1 teaspoon rum extract (optional)

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Lightly oil or coat with nonstick spray an 8-by-4-by-2-inch baking pan.

Puree the apricots in a hand blender, blender, or food processor.

In a medium-sized mixing bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt, mixing with a fork to distribute. In a larger bowl, combine the sugar and oil and beat until they’re mixed. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Add almond and rum extracts, the apricot puree, and the flour mixture, beating until well mixed.

Pour the batter into the baking pan. Bake for 60-65 minutes, or until a wooden toothpick inserted into the center of the bread comes out clean. Let stand in the pan for 10 minutes to cool. For easier slicing, wrap in plastic and let it sit until cool.