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I’m a single lady. I live in a small New York apartment with a kitchen the size of a deluxe port-a-potty. I have to move furniture to use the oven. I don’t really cook so much as get in, prep something, and get out. Recently my diet’s been mostly raw, and that’s mostly due to laziness. Spend hours sweating over a roast of some kind, only to watch it decompose next to the dwindling six-pack in my fridge? Not so much. But chop fruit and vegetables? Sure, I’ll chop shit all day long. I even have one of those fancy knives with the air pockets, and a miniature cutting board that’s just the right size for my 8×10” counter. You wouldn’t think I make very good-tasting meals using this method, and you’re usually right. But sometimes I manage to surprise myself. The key to my success lies in employing the same approach I’ve used for online dating: keep expectations low and an alcoholic beverage on hand, and if things go sour, eat quickly.

I’ll often look in my fridge and wonder what can be done with what’s there. The aptly named myfridgefood.com is good for helping with that. But the other day I made something delicious on my own that I’d like to share with you if I haven’t already scared you off. It’s light and simple and can be put together in the amount of time it takes to call your mother and complain about your dating life. (How many chick lit clichés can I inject into a single post?) Continue reading →