Ugh! I’m hungry.
I sorta don’t feel like making food.
There’s no one home but me. But, if I think about the fact that my (adult) daughter will come home from work hungry, I’m motivated. She doesn’t have expectations or assumptions about food ready for her when she returns. Now, I feel like cooking. This isn’t some onerous “hafta.” This is a choice to meet the needs of another.
Back to me, though.
Why do we not feel like it is worth our time and effort to cook for just ourselves?
In a previous life, when I was married, my husband left for an extended business trip. I had found a recipe that looked good for some sort of dish involving dried exotic mushrooms. (I said “exotic,” not psychedelic or erotic!). At that point in time, I was willing to cook for myself. There was something I wanted to watch on TV–a weekly TV show, or a movie, or some DVD that I had rented. (Oh, no! It would have been a VHS!) Anyway, fixing a meal, including wine, was acceptable for me by myself.
Was that a good time in my life? Not really. I was lonely, even though I was married. Was that a good night? Yep! Took care of myself. The recipe turned out great!
Tonight, I have salmon defrosted, plenty of veggies and salad makings in the fridge and a good audiobook playing. I’m gonna make dinner for myself, instead of eating …. ummm… chips and salsa? No salsa. Hummus and pita chips? No hummus. Leftovers? Ate at lunch.
OK. It’s salmon and something.
Any suggestions of recipes for one?