The Solitary Eater

There is always a book that we cherish. My father loves John Steinbeck's "The Pearl;" my mother loves Steinbeck's "Grapes of Wrath." I remember when my sister adored William Golding's "Lord of the Flies" in high school. As for me, the first book that really knocked my socks off was Robert Cormier's "Chocolate War.” This was followed by Richard Wright's "Native Son," and then Hunter S. Thompson's "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas." Somewhere in there I adored Chuck Palahnuik's "Fight Club." 

Some people have one book; I have a whole library. My most recent treasured book came in a used book bin at a bookstore in Santa Fe. I know you are not supposed to judge a book by its cover but I was sold on this particular literary work just from its title: "What We Eat When We Eat Alone." 

Finally! After years of only seeing cookbooks that narrowed down the number of eaters to two, I spied a book that fit me to a T. More often than not, I am eating by myself. 

I am not going to lie; being a constant solo eater depressed me at first. After moving out on my own and living in a town where there was no family member in sight, I felt a pinch of loneliness sitting in that basement kitchen. The Laskeys are not big talkers at the dinner table but it still seemed too quiet those first couple of dinners. 

But time moves on and my attitude changed.

Eating alone is now especially great in the summer time because I can eat out on my balcony. I sit in the chair that faces the mountains and swing the other chair around for my feet. I'll either bring out a book or a New Yorker magazine or watch on my iPad an episode of some ridiculous wedding show that I can not help but adore. 

Tonight, I read a chapter from my newest favorite book. It was discussing meals one would only cook when one is by themselves. These are intensely private, personal meals. The chapter brought to mind one of my meals.

You can find these already prepared Indian-cuisine foods in plastic packets in an aisle at the Los Alamos Co-op. I bought my first one on a whim because I like Indian food. There is a variety of prepared dishes you can get but my stand-by is the chickpeas. Whenever I am not in the mood to flip through a cook book for a recipe or rummage through the grocery store shelves for a bundle of ingredients, I will toss a package of chickpeas into the cart.

My mother once asked me what in the world I do with these packages and I wondered the same thing myself when I first purchased them.  But here's what I have figured out. Grab a packet along with either an eggplant or some type of sausage - whatever peaks your interest. In a saucepan, cook the meat or vegetable until it looks satisfactory before cutting open the chickpea packet and dumping the contents into the pan. Stir and cook until it is hissing and steaming away. Then just grab a bowl, pour the contents into it and dinner is served! To be honest, it is not the prettiest thing I've ever seen. In fact, it looks lumpy and everything is coated in a reddish-brown color. But looks aren't everything. The meal is delish and clean up is a snap. 

If you think my private meal is bad, check some of those featured in "What We Eat When We Eat Alone." One guy, a chef, talked about how he likes to make a meal of rice, plain yogurt, egg and salt. Another man talked about his private meal is perfectly cooked when it looks ready to catch on fire and explode. 

I laughed out loud at some people's specialties. Reading these tales and thinking of my own experiences made me feel a part of the story. It made me feel a little less alone. 

My favorite eat-alone meal