The Wonders of Cooking for One

Earlier this week, it was brought to my attention that I will not always have scads of time to waste idly shoe shopping for myself, or aimlessly wandering the aisles of Trader Joe's only to eventually conclude what I REALLY want for dinner is one of those Lumpy Bumpy dark chocolate peanut butter and jelly bars (they are really good, and I am justifying the Lumpy Bumpy as my dinner because it has peanut butter in it, which is protein. Which is good for you, right? One would think I'd be put off by the name Lumpy Bumpy since that's the exact way I don't want my thighs to look, but apparently my craving is stronger than my ego.) Eventually, I know my fashion-whore feet and PMS-driven dinners will give way to responsible, nutritionally-balanced meals for the kids, and my shoe whims will take a backseat to more pressing matters, like making sure everyone has their teeth cleaned twice yearly. Though it's certainly hard to imagine, I have the feeling my life will eventually become orderly, steady, and laden with responsibility for beings other than myself. In the mean time, my independence is utterly, completely, delectably, undeniably, delicious. And I plan on enjoying every minute of it, dammit! Whether that means afternoons of inappropriately loud sex or just sleeping in because I can...it's time to get serious about enjoying life.

For me, as you well know by now, there are two key components to this: there's the carnal element (see above) and then there's the culinary element. So part of enjoying my deliciously single lifestyle is cooking. For myself. And no one else. This also can include the sub-category of Not Completely Following Directions Because I Don't Have To Because It's Just For Me. You see, I feel a lot of responsibility when I cook (see "The Triathelete and the Overly-Gingered Tuna"). Especially since I am known in my circle for being a decent home cook (even a good one, on the right day) I feel the need to...how shall I say...bring the thunder when I cook for others. And when cooking for a potential lover, we all know even more is at stake. (I can't remember the last time an undercooked chicken made someone want to tear my clothes off.) As a result, it's an awfully nice change to cook without cares, with no end goal in mind other than to enjoy the process and feed myself something relatively tasty. So here was my experimental cooking project for my own Selfish Enjoyment for this week: a variation on Molly Wizenberg's Butternut Squash and Cheddar Savory Bread Pudding from this month's Bon Appetit. Here's how I did it:

Savory Bread Pudding for One

Approximately 2/3 stale ciabatta, which may or may not be enough, torn into 1 inch cubes
3 eggs (I should have used 4, please use 4 if you try this at home)
1 1/8 cup half & half (again, I'd spring for the full 1 1/4 cup)
3 TBSP white wine (again, add more!)
1 tsp dijon mustard

1 bunch kale, washed and stems removed
3 little bags pre-cubed butternut squash from Trader Joe's which is 24 oz of squash total
1/2 onion diced

2 oz shredded Sharp Cheddar cheese (be generous with the cheese, and make sure you get the sharpest kind you can find. I was lazy, and regretted it. Mild cheddar just doesn't cut it here.)

Combine beaten eggs, half & half, wine, and mustard. Add stale ciabatta, soak for 30 min. Roast butternut squash at 400 with EVOO and salt. Clean kale. Curse when you find there is still dirt on it even after you've washed it twice. Do it again. Spin it dry. Decide that's good enough, because who is eating this besides you? (The wonders of cooking for one.) Brown onion, add kale, sautee until green and crispy but not flaccid (I like my kale like my men...) Generously butter pan, which is the wrong size because as a single girl you have an ill-equipped kitchen. Spend 90 seconds being jealous of your married friends who have the proper pan for this dish. Get over it. Layer half the bread mixture, cover with half the squash, kale, and cheese. Repeat. Bake covered in tin foil for 20 minutes at 350. Remove tin foil, bake for 20 minutes again. Realize it's too puffy for the pan, which will make broiling very difficult and potentially dangerous. Do it anyway, because you deserve a brown crispy top like nobody's business. Let cool for 5 minutes. Serve yourself a nice big heaping slice, with enough for the following day's lunch. And dinner. And lunch.

Serves 1 self-satisfied single girl.