Stepping up to the plate. |
I grew up eating at home, usually cooking my own food, because that's the cheapest, healthiest way to go. I also come from a big family, and I had a lengthy love life, so I didn't eat alone until recently, when I became completely single. It was fun for me to cook whatever I want, whenever I wanted, without taking into account some one's diet or picky food preferences. I embarked on a culinary freedom I never knew before, and I was in my late 30s. Of course, I already knew my soul food was Italian American, because that's what I cook the most at home, but this exciting time period has allowed me to add as many spices as I want, in any combination, and to experiment however I see fit. Occasionally though, I find myself wanting to taste another person's food, and for the first time in my life, in my 40s, I actually began dining alone at restaurants. I thought it'd be weird, like a spotlight was on me or something, but it wasn't.
Cozy dining room. |
I know good food really well, so once again, I can indulge myself in this knowledge, drinking it in fully without distractions, because I typically have to order for the table, making recommendations or translations, explaining menu items to those who are less informed, or lack a seasoned palate. I did lots of other firsts solo, too: I went to the movies and ate all the popcorn (once again, because I could). I find my own company enjoyable, as I always did when I was at home alone or working in the studio. It has become another part of my artistic life; yet more chances I have to savor the aesthetics I have worked so hard to learn and refine. It's great to be able to walk into a bar or a restaurant in my hometown and not be afraid just because I'm a woman alone. In truth, I'm really not alone (you're there with me, readers); I'm just sitting by myself. I can enjoy the service even more by really focusing on every bite and sip that I take. That's the stuff life is made of. Savor it.