For dinner the other night, I had two slices of artisan bread with slices of Parmesan cheese melted on them, black grapes, chocolate Chex dry out of the box and orange juice. I thought about adding a raw carrot, but I was playing Words with Friends and chatting with a friend on Facebook and didn’t want to be bothered.
That is not an atypical scenario. I often don’t feel like cooking for myself, so I graze — and not always on the healthiest combination. I don’t have chips and junk food like that in the house, but I also don’t eat balanced calorie-controlled “meals” when I graze.
Don’t get me wrong. I love to cook and bake, but cooking for one is no picnic. I can end up eating a dish for days on end, or freeze part of it and forget it’s in the freezer, or eventually throw out food, which I hate to do. Not all of my favorite recipes lend themselves to being cut down or frozen.
My husband Jim, who died of pancreatic cancer in December 2010, loved to try different foods, and eventually he developed a love for cooking too. We would have big discussions about food, ways to change recipes and tips he saw on one of the many food shows he loved to watch on TV. We thoroughly enjoyed this aspect of our life together.
But those days have become pleasant, albeit sometimes painful, memories and now meals are another necessary chore. As you know, I like to have a Plan B, but I’m struggling with this one. Click here to continue reading.
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