Cooking for one

In the food-writing world, much has been written and pondered about cooking for one- why might the cook be doing so? It's interesting to consider how one's context might change the experience of solo cooking: did children just leave for camp or college; is a partner out of town; was there a death; a divorce? In such situations, cooking might seem bleak, lonely, for sustenance only, or, on the other end of the spectrum, a gift of time alone in the kitchen, cooking only for one's self, allowing that person to ask: what do I want to eat? What sounds good to me? I love to cook for my family, but sometimes it's nice to do it just for me, just for one. T headed off on a work trip this morning so I've got two evenings on my own. Although I rarely(!) tire of being with T, in my context, right now, I'm looking forward to these nights, to the few hours after the kids go to bed, when I can putter, finally clean out my fridge, cook whatever I want, and just be.

Reminiscing over the years when I was single, during times happily and unhappily so, I remember how much I enjoyed quiet evenings alone with my little dinner and some reading spread in front of me, soft music playing, a cocktail or glass of wine or not. I've never been the type who could be with people all the time, never the type who even wanted that. And though I often think about why motherhood is hard, the lack of being able to be alone at times determined by me versus those determined by my children being asleep, isn't something I often consider. But as I write this, thinking with joyful anticipation about my two nights and all I want to do with them (but know I won't do 50% of it), I feel like I've put a piece of the puzzle into place. It's not just me I miss sometimes but also that time to be with myself, to figure out and nurture who that woman is, who she wants to be.

I don't have a plan for dinner yet tonight but it'll probably be something veggie-centric with some delicious bread and maybe the slightest bit of chocolate afterwards. Maybe I'll make something up, maybe I'll put together an old favorite. Whatever it is, it'll just be for me though, and as the evenings alone are so rare, I'll give myself a cheers and send one out to you too.

Movie, brownie, pizza.

Folks, why is it so hard to find a well-made brownie that is not gluey, dry or full of too many additions? The only commercial contender in which I'm willing to indulge (very rarely because it's huge) is Pain Quotidien's. Otherwise I feel I just must make my own, and for that I tend to make a brown butter-based one that I discovered in Bon Appetit last year. It's curious this rarity of good brownie. I bring this up because T and I just went to see Crazy, Stupid, Love. which was well cast and pretty good. Also I love the Avalon- what a great neighborhood theater. Anyway, they had one brownie left so ever-hopeful me convinced T to split it; it was fair at best but at least now I'm not making a full pan.

What was the opposite of fair-at-best is Ryan Gosling's body in this film. Mary, mother of god, he is HOT. And lest you think I didn't immediately share that opinion with Tom, I did and he had to, objectively, concur.

Tonight is pizza night- yum!

Om

"Nothing would be done at all if we waited until we could do it so well that no one could find fault with it."   -Cardinal Newman

I just love this quote. New to me, our yoga teacher commenced class with these words today, and I have to admit that keeping them in mind while working through tough poses really did help keep perspective on things, a sense of humor about stumbling out of a balance or hold. All too often, I judge myself on my "success" or "failure" to perfectly complete and hold each posture which is precisely NOT the point at all.  In looking to gain strength and burn some calories and because I truly enjoy the rigor, I sometimes push my body beyond what it's telling me are its limits that day, determined to perform despite, for example and like today, having been up since 4am. So to be able to sincerely laugh or at least grin through it all was terrific.

I think many of us, especially us ladies, tend to do this about many aspects of life: our appearance, our work, our parenting and so forth. Some people seem born with a more easygoing temperament, able to take things in stride with less self-judgment. Others struggle mightily with self-acceptance and love in the most serious and most banal ways. An admitted perfectionist in many ways, I am certainly not immune to such verdicts on self, but I have worked, and continue to work, to roll with it more. My top pie crust wasn't big enough? Ah well, all the better to see the pretty innards. I raised my voice [screamed] at the boys? Well, I'll try harder not to next time but parents have limits too and isn't it a valuable lesson to teach children that.

So, give yourself a hug today, do something not because you've mastered it but because the process is where life lies.