Have you ever been alone in the kitchen with an eggplant?
I intend no pun nor euphemism. It’s a concept. It could simply be dinner. It’s no far-fetched scenario. It’s very much the intriguingly-named collection of “confessions of cooking for one and dining alone” I read a few years back - and came across again this Spring as our not-so-local library cleared out some inventory before an extensive renovation.
Not-so-long story short, I took home my own copy and have been re-reading the essays within. Published in 2008, Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant takes its title from the late writer Laurie Colwin’s ruminations on the meals & entertaining she very creatively pulled together in her teeny-tiny, technically kitchen-less Greenwich Village abode.
The book is totally full of gems for those of us who like reading writing about food and cooking, and doing such by oneself. Two other pieces that came right back to me were Phoebe Nobles’ obsessive ode to those first spears of the spring, Asparagus Superhero, and A is for Dining Alone, which introduced me to the stirring words (and archives) of M.F.K. Fisher.
It seems I first read this collection a couple of years after it came out in 2011 or so, which meant I was *just* departing my own “single years” (aka the vast majority of my twenties), and reflecting on the cooking and dining habits therein. These were the days and nights of not-so-fulfilling dayjob exhaustion, way-more-engaging rounds of PPK recipe testing (I still shed a tear for the forums), stopping at farmers markets and trying to find time to cook it all, the normality of food cart take-out, entering the realms of entrepreneurship & nonprofit-running in my “free time”, unwinding at countless happy hours & dinners out & about with friends all around town, throwing that market veg into late night (instant) ramen, and plenty of tots and pretty great handcut fries.
At home, I was slowly but surely learning to recognize that cooking for one could actually be as interesting, elaborate, or most importantly, valid, as cooking for two. Maybe even more so.
I was coming to terms with the quiet ease and intimacy of cooking for myself, however fancy or basic. It needn’t be embarrassing. Self-care, before it was a catchphrase. Dinner.
Skipping cilantro. Getting a little salty. Extra greens. Heaps (and heaps) of garlic. Playing with hot sauce options. Personal preferences, defined.
A few weeks ago, I was practically alone with an eggplant once more. Or close enough.
My spouse and I are no stranger to spending time apart. This time, Jules was off for a work trip in the SW. So, I prepared. I wrote a little list. Indulgent, personal, practical.
I briefly daydreamed meals with the stuff my partner has little to absolutely no interest in. Who can relate!?
My sister’s advice when I shared my list for the week or so, knowing Jules’ distaste: “Break out the soy sauce!”
Blueberry BBQ sauce? Brussels sprouts? Days of dal?! Hmm…
I found solace with stir-fries.
Persisted with peanut sauce.
Caught up with chana masala.
Lounged - no - lingered with linguine.
Practically nestled down with a bowl of potato gnocchi.
Appeased by asparagus*.
*Which it seems is now year-round in parts of Mexico - and then driven up to Alaska. Thanks.
That last one, in the form of Pad Prik Khing with that surprisingly resilient, spring-somewhere asparagus, was truly a highlight. Cherishing the piquant heat from the curry paste and chiles, crispy pan-seared tofu, and sudden, fresh-again-in-my-life basil. Each bite making my mouth happy. Notes below.
And cue real life, the stillness, talking to cats (not as if that’s a new thing), and the annoyance of leftovers when you’re cooking for one.
Flashing back to wondering how you ever finished *anything* by yourself…and how almost laughably sweet it was living with an automatic dishwasher (although the spouse is better than all of the above - and award-winning at dishes). <3
What do you find yourself cooking or ordering when you’re alone?
More cooking from those days:
What does one do with their own loaf of bread? Eat it?? : )
Rest assured, I ate toast. And toast. And then, more toast.
We’re back to glass-top in our current abode. Not the real point, more of a confession. More excitedly, cast iron naan and Punjabi chole masala were underway below. Lingonberry chutney made with last year’s berry archives followed.
And weeks later, I was officially alone with an eggplant. For lunch.
(As well as pasta, tomatoes, garlic, Calabrian chiles and basil. Not pictured: chilled seltzer & book #3 in the Alex Carter wilderness mystery series.)
References + Relevant Links:
Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant, edited by Jenni Ferrari-Adler [linked here and free to read on archive.org]
Garlic and Sapphires: The Secret Life of a Food Critic in Disguise and Tender at the Bone: Growing Up at the Table by Ruth Reichl
The Gastronomical Me by M.F.K. Fisher
Meet MFK Fisher, Who Changed The Way We Write About Food, The Story Exchange March 30, 2023
This is the plight of my life! Thanks for the nudge to eventually, finally, embrace cooking... someday
Beautiful, Jess. And your food always looks so damn good! ❤️