How to cook for yourself

Beyond Takeout

Tantri Wija | For The New Mexican

5/6/2008 - 5/7/08

It's 7 p.m. Do you know where your children are? Oh, that's right — they're away at college. Do you know where your significant other is? At Bingo Night, visiting his/her mother, or at a class reunion?

What significant other, you ask?

The upshot is, you're eating alone.

If this is a once-in-a-while condition for you, most likely you celebrate it by ordering take-out Chinese food and topping it off with a pint of Ben & Jerry's while you watch your favorite guilty-pleasure movie. (For women, that would be Bridget Jones' Diary; for men, Hoosiers.)

Finally, you sigh, a night you don't have to cook.

But if you dine alone frequently — if you are single, for example, or if your significant other works the graveyard shift — the whole take-out thing starts to get a little old. And, when the pizza guy answers the phone with, "Oh, you again," it might be time to think about cooking.

The problem is, cooking is generally an act of love or slavery — something a person does for other people. Whether it is to express love, to save cash, or simply to show off, cooking is best when appreciated by others. Cooking for one's self seems, in a way, like a waste of effort — you spend hours chopping, mincing and dicing, and no one knows you bothered but you.

But consider. By cooking for yourself you give yourself unfettered access to your favorite foods — no more of this "sharing" business; forget dividing the shrimp or giving away the end piece of the meatloaf. By cooking — and not inviting anyone to join you — you can allow yourself to revel in the kind of self-love we all thought died out in the '80s.

The taste of freedom

The brilliant thing about cooking for yourself is that you don't have to take into account anyone else's preferences, allergies or weird "aversions." If you want a bowl of olives, a plate of French fries, and a bag of granola, you can have it — and feel free to eat it with your face buried in the bowl like a dog.

If you are accustomed to cooking for others, you may have lost touch with the part of yourself that knows what you really like to eat. Do you really like salmon, or do you just eat it because it's your ex-boyfriend's favorite fish? Are you really into fennel, or are you just used to having it because your mother likes it?

Try this. Go to a grocery store — preferably a trendy one with lots of fresh impulse-buy items and cheese — and walk around with a cart. Resist putting anything into the cart that you would "normally" get, or that you think you "should" get. Instead, only reach for the things that you usually caress fondly before you put them back. Oh, goat cheese, really? Ahah! you have a fondness for gefilte fish! Who knew? Oho — I see someone reaching for the Italian sausage that her ex always found too spicy. Liberating, isn't it?

This also is a good opportunity to buy a really good cut of meat. Fine steaks are expensive when buying for two or three, but why not splurge if it's just for you?

Don't skip the side dish

When cooking for myself, my tendency is to simply purchase one thing (usually a steak), cook it, and eat it standing up. This is selling myself short.

Why do we only bother with side dishes when other people are watching? Why do we allow ourselves to live this half-life of naked main courses?

To truly love ourselves, we must learn to roast potatoes for ourselves, make ourselves a nutty pilaf, toss some green beans in curry paste and serve them warm to ourselves with white basmati rice.

And don't forget dessert. You may be avoiding dessert like the plague, especially if you are single, as dessert + slow metabolism = loneliness. But really — when it's just you and the TV and your meal is over and you face a long night of balling your socks and going through old photos looking for one where you don't have stupid hair, you are going to want a little something to top off the night.

This is a great opportunity to get exactly the flavor of ice cream that you want — without having to compromise. You may not even remember what your favorite flavor is if your mind is too full of everybody else's favorites.

In this case, it might be wise to purchase two or three different pints — in the name of self-exploration, of course.

TANTRI COOKS FOR HERSELF

1 steak (something really good, like a ribeye)
Few glugs Lea & Perrins Worcestershire sauce
Hefty sprinkle sea salt
Hefty sprinkle black pepper
Few swishes garlic oil
1-2 pounds little multicolored potatoes
Few glugs olive oil
Another hefty sprinkle sea salt
Another hefty sprinkle black pepper
Few more swishes garlic oil
Couple of shallots, chopped
1 pint of whatever ice cream I please

Marinate the single steak in the Worcestershire, salt, pepper and olive oil.

Preheat the oven to about 450 degrees.

Toss the potatoes in an oven-proof dish with the remaining olive oil, garlic oil, salt, pepper and shallots. (Throw in a little red pepper if you like.)

Roast the potatoes for about 35 minutes. About 10 minutes before you take the potatoes out, stick the steak in the broiler and broil it until it is your — your! — desired level of doneness. (For me that's super rare, but practically charred on the outside.)

Feel free to dip into the ice cream while the rest of your meal is cooking. Because, really, nobody's going to know.