The Joy of Cooking for Yourself

It’s been kind of quiet around here lately. I mean that in the sense of around this blog, but also around my life in general. Lots of big changes have happened, but the biggest of all is that I’ve moved to Northern Michigan, and for the first time in my 33 trips around the sun, I live alone.

I. am. loving. it.

I’ve always thought of myself as a ‘people person’, and while that certainly still rings true, I’ve come to get to know myself better in the past few years and realized I need a hell of a lot more alone time than I ever granted myself permission to take.

Does it get lonely at times? Yes. Yes, it does. If my landlord allowed animals you better believe I’d be at least one cat closer to official cat lady status. An animal would be nice to cuddle every now and then, or maybe even a man, but relationships are hard, and taking care of an animal seems like wayyyyyyy less work.

Instead of wallowing in my loneliness, I choose to focus on all the wonderful joys of flying solo. Like cooking for yourself. It’s so pleasurable to cook a nice meal for yourself. These are the times I feel most like an adult.

Smooth jazz playing through my speakers, the smell of herbs filling the air, and not a single moment of anxiety or worry that often accompanies cooking for others [well for me, at least]. There is nobody here to impress. Just me, myself, and I. Considering there are many nights I literally eat a bowl of reheated rice because I’m too lazy to cook, let’s just say it doesn’t take much to impress me.

The experience of cooking for myself makes me smile. I don’t have to consider what anybody else ‘likes’ or ‘dislikes’. I don’t have to worry about having everything timed perfectly, which is great, since you could say I embrace more of a tapas style of cooking (i.e. it all gets done at a different times and I basically just eat what’s done first, while waiting for the rest of the meal to finish). I don’t have to agonize over which components to put together to make a ‘full’ presentable meal.

Pork chops and potatoes. That’s it. That’s the menu. And you know what, I’m fucking ecstatic about it. You know why? Because those potatoes are swimming in what some may deem an ‘excessive’ amount of olive oil. They’re topped with fresh herbs, no less than four massive cloves of garlic, and what most anybody would deem as way too much salt. The pork chops will be cooked to perfection and the pan drippings will be used to make an apricot rosemary glaze. My mouth is salivating as my fingers move across these keys. I’m off to do the damn thing.

Side note: if you’re not following me on Spotify, you’re missing out of my amazing playlists, such as ‘What’s cookin’ good lookin’. Highly recommend.