Years ago, I had a friend who, after years of living with roommates, got an apartment on her own. For the first time in her life, she was the only one living in her apartment. We ate dinner together several times a week. She’s a good cook, and I love a good roast beef, and I also love a good roast chicken. So it’d be kosher chicken at my place and don’t-ask roast beef at hers. She used to tell me she hated eating alone. A lot of people have told me over the years that they don’t make a fuss over dinner if they’re eating alone. That’s something I never really understood. There are times I don’t feel like cooking, but since I’ve been on my own, I’d always rather have a nice, home-cooked meal than fast food or frozen dinners.
On the menu tonight: Baked chicken breast (breaded with corn flake crumbs), oven-roasted potatoes, and snow peas (back in season and at a great price from Trader Joe’s). I’ll be eating in about fifteen minutes. The chicken breast is big enough that the leftovers will be lunch on Tuesday.
Yeah, I don’t see the point in not cooking for one. If you freeze everything in single servings, you can defrost enough to cook for five. I know, because I’ve done it for Sarah’s kids. (They luuuurve Aunt Meryl’s Chicken McMeryl, which has been declared better than McDonald’s.)
Dinner for one. Nope, I don’t get the big deal about it.
After 19 years of marraige, and two kids home now, I’d give anything for a nice quiet dinner home alone… Oh, well. Never gonna happen. I’ve tried, but nobody wants to leave “Daddy” home when they go out for dinner.