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Loading... Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant: Confessions of Cooking for One and…by Jenni Ferrari-Adler
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will love Sign up for LibraryThing to find out whether you'll like this book. Great fun! I especially enjoyed the titular first essay, as well as the introduction. Fisher shines as always. The collection had a good balance between, 'eating alone is freeing!' and, 'eating alone is depressing!'. Some essays were humorous, some poignant. What a delightful book! I bought it because it matched my love of food and my current predicament as a single gal. This is a collection of essays written by professional writers, some of whom write/wrote about food for a living (Laura Colwin) or who write in other genres (Nora Ephron) or a combination (Amanda Hesser) to name a few. All of the essays revolve around dining solo -- whether cooking for yourself, dining out alone, dreaming of cooking just for yourself, despising it, willing yourself to cook a square meal or dreaming up funky dishes you wouldn't dare admit to. Some of the essays feature recipes (I marked the page for Grill-Curried Shrimp Quesarito with Avocado Raita). Others are just stream-of-consciousness ramblings. All are enjoyable. Whether you are single or not, enjoy cooking or not, you should read this book! Summary: Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant is a collection of essays from cooks, chefs, writers, and others, all on the theme of eating alone. There's a broad range of topics that fall under that heading - essays confessing what people crave when no one is watching, essays from people who make eating alone a celebration, essays from people who avoid eating alone whenever possible, essays from people who love cooking for themselves, essays from people who wish they got the chance to cook just for themselves, essays from people who can't stand cooking but have mastered the art of dining out for one, and so on. There's humor, commiseration, advice, soul-baring, and plenty of recipes for one. Review: This was fantastic; a treat for the senses, and a balm for the soul of someone who habitually eats alone. While you can make the argument that eating is meant to be a social activity, almost everybody eats alone at some point in their lives, and this book sets out to remind us that while we might not be sharing our meal with anyone, we are never really alone in our solo eating. What I enjoyed most about this book was the sense of connection I found with the authors in almost each and every essay: Ann Patchett shares my love for Saltines spread with butter when no one is watching. Jeremy Jackson shares my love of canned black beans and the Moosewood Cookbook. Anneli Rufus and I share a craving for starch in all forms. Courtney Eldridge and I both have a food-snob ex in our past. Jonathan Ames and I have both made ourselves ill with poorly-cooked eggs. Beverly Lowry and I will both crave the same simple foods over and over again for weeks if not months at a time. Laura Dave's essay is about moving to and cooking in New York City, but it sounded to me like she was talking exactly about grad school. And so on. The connections I made are not going to be the same ones that other people find, but there's a wide enough variety that I bet everyone will find something they relate to. Not all essays will resonate with every reader - and for sure, some of them worked for me more than others - but there's enough here that everyone will find something to enjoy. 4.5 out of 5 stars. Recommendation: If you even vaguely enjoy food writing, read it. It's funny, easy to read, full of tasty-sounding recipes, thought-provoking, and thoroughly enjoyable. A nice amount of variety upon the theme. The tales of eating badly, or at least eccentrically, are usually the most interesting. But that's at least in part because it's the opposite of my own tendencies. Most pieces were amusing rather than sentimental. Some very intriguing recipes. Few authors were unsympathetic. And there was the unexpected bonus of a piece by a waitress at my all-time favorite restaurant, although reading it made me homesick and she has a pretty different idea of the restaurant's level of formality than its diners do. no reviews | add a review
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Summary: As I am a university student, I do most of my cooking and eating alone. I do have a roommate but she’s often out of the apartment and besides, our tastes are so different that I don’t think we could cook and eat together even if we wanted to. So I definitely know the struggles and joys of putting food out for myself. I’m a terrible cook, by the way, but I love food and have a growing interest in food writing that this book delves right into. After reading this book, I want to go straight to the library and see what else the food section has.
It really is a solid, entertaining collection that manages to strike a balance between a variety of moods. Some authors don’t like cooking and eating alone; others adore it. I veer towards the latter, so I was happy to read about Holly Hughes’ desire to cook for herself after cooking for a large family, or Laurie Colwin’s love of eggplant. Those were some of my favourite essays, as well as Phoebe Noble’s, Colin Harrison’s, Erin Ergenbright’s, and Rattawut Lapcharoensap’s (packaged instant noodles for the win!). With that said, there isn’t a bad essay in the bunch. All of them are easily re-readable (although I have to admit, Haruki Murakami’s was the one I was looking forward to the most and thus the one that let me down. It was more literary than confessional, which didn’t fit in with the general theme, in my opinion).
If you’re looking for recipes, Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant has some, but not a great deal. I did try out Jeremy Jackson’s suggestion of mixing shredded cheese with rice. But mostly this is a prose collection, and I love that more than I love rice with cheese.
Conclusion: A great place to begin my education in food writing. Plus it whets my appetite for more. (