Remember a few posts ago when I said I never had more than hors d'oeuvres in my fridge and had cooked only a handful of times in my kitchen and that was when I was cooking for someone (my mom, the teacher)?
WELL, thanks to Hurricane Irene, I was forced to go out and buy groceries and on Saturday evening I cooked a wonderful and tasty meal that I ate at my dining table whilst sipping some Pellegrino in a champagne flute.
Here's what I served myself:
I slow cooked some beef tips (I need the protein) until they melted in the mouth.
Then I made some Israeli couscous, with broccoli, fresh garlic and mushroom.
Finally, I had one heirloom tomato left from a batch I bought a week or two ago, so I cut that up with an avocado, tossed it with some crumbled feta and drizzled it all with balsamic vinegar.
Tasty, tasty, tasty. Yum!
But as I ate the meal I realized that though I am a loner and can entertain myself for hours upon hours, the reason I haven't cooked for myself since I moved back home is because I feel lonely eating in my empty kitchen, at my empty table. All alone.