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Old 02-27-2008, 08:04 PM   #1 (permalink)
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The 'Whatever' Approach Is What I Do Best

The 'Whatever' Approach Is What I Do Best
By Erin Zimmer
Special to The Washington Post
Wednesday, February 27, 2008; F01

In my kitchen, most leftovers have one real chance for an afterlife: as omelet contents.
Fajita scraps? Throw them into the skillet with a few eggs. Greek salad? Ditto, with a drizzle of balsamic vinegar. Omelet-ifying foods is my default dinner move when I am alone and culinarily challenged.
I realized that was perfectly acceptable when my friend Virginia, a student-turned-professor in food studies at NYU, recently sealed a few smidges of lime-marinated shrimp into Tupperware. "For tomorrow night's fri-TAH-ta," she said, as if upgrading the egg dish to a more elegant state. It appeared she had made the shrimp -- part of an elaborate Baja-style feast -- with an eye to its sequel possibilities.
Omelets are quick, warm and satisfying; I'll always stand by that. But there are more options than eggs for cooking solo. Ever since I graduated from Georgetown last May -- ridding myself of homework excuses and mini-fridge limitations -- I've had more time to play with my food.
Sure, I'll print off a Nigella Lawson or Ina Garten favorite if there are other mouths to feed. But when I'm by myself, no way. Besides, I have questions that I've never seen answered in any definitive cooking-for-one tome:
* What about fresh herbs that go to waste?
* How could I reconfigure a full Indian spread with curries, chutneys and nan medleys for one serving?
* How much spaghetti and sauce constitutes a single dose?
My cooking is less about measurements and more about winging it, a skill I picked up early. Given her 9-to-6 career-woman schedule, my mom often wasn't sure what we would be eating until 10 minutes before suppertime. Despite my efforts to shove photos of braised veal shanks at her, and despite all my whining about so-and-so's mom's elaborate after-school snack, that kind of effort just wasn't her style.
Ground beef would go into spaghetti Bolognese, sloppy Joes or meaty tacos; she didn't really care which until the last second, as if she wanted the bubbling sauces and browning meats to figure themselves out.
"Seriously, Mom. What are we having?"
"We'll see, honey. Just have faith."
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