Eat it. Just eat it.

Guys, I really and truly don't read anymore. Or rather, I read about 5 sentences of everything (I'm looking at you, Anne Tyler, Chris Bohjalian, guy who wrote The Lightning Thief, et al) and then I watch another episode of the American Office. And I realize that no one really thinks of that show as the American version anymore since it's about six seasons longer than its inspiration, but my commitment to Tim and Dawn is pretty intense.

Anyway,the other reason I haven't been writing is that I've spent most of the last month in a state of complete and utter malaise, physically and spiritually (but mostly physically). I've been lying on the loveseat a lot, and doing a lot of serious thinking, mostly about the fact that I am nearly thirty years old and don't have an actual couch and everytime I fall asleep on mine I lose feeling in my legs. In the course of these heady existential days, the one book I did actually read in toto was What We Eat When We Eat Alone by Deborah Madison, and it just about made me cry with joy. In case you don't know of her, Deborah Madison is the woman who stole my life. She lives in New Mexico and studied Zen living in San Francisco and she patronizes farmers' markets and writes the best vegetarian cookbooks you will ever read and lives with an artist. She's also a little smug, which I quite enjoy. In this book, she interviews everyone she knows about the weird and disgusting but ultimately probably delicious things they eat when they're on their own, and also delves into the different ways we find ourselves on our own at the end of the day: a man without his wife, a single gal whose roommate is out, a student with a cabinet full of Kraft dinner. And then she makes actual recipes out of the stories her friends tell. They are delightful and full of random things like tinned oysters and polenta and ramen noodles and fresh veggies and loads of cheese. This really is such a sweet, cute little book (and it's illustrated in a New Yorkerish style by her live-in lovah whose name I cannot remember) and if you have any inclination toward foodieism you really must read it.

I, for one, love nothing better than cooking for one. I do it almost every weeknight, and I really really look forward to it. There's something really freeing about making dinner for your own self and not giving a fuck about anyone else's good taste spoiling the experience. I highly recommend you try it sometime.

And in that spirit, here's a recipe for y'all. I am a bit of a gazpacho nut, and yesterday the return of my appetite after a week of nausea coupled with hot house tomatoes from the Kingston Farmers' Market inspired this new twist on my old standby.

Mayday Gazpacho

a few cups worth of tomatoes, chopped
1 cucumber, chopped
1 avocado, chopped
juice of one lemon
1/2 cup of parsley, chopped (or more) (gazpacho is usually made with basil but I didn't have any, and found this to be a delicious and detoxifying substitute)
1 can Herdez green chile sauce (a secret ingredient that will BLOW YOUR MIND)
1-2 cloves garlic, chopped (amount depends on whether you will be spending time with other people or not)
hot sauce, to taste
salt and pepper, to taste

Throw 'er all in a bowl and puree the hell out of it. Eat, then send me a thank you note.