Joe Yonan - Eat Your Vegetables: Bold Recipes for the Single Cook

Copyright 2013 by Joe Yonan
Photographs copyright 2013 by Matt Armendariz,
except for the temple garden photographs on which are by Joe Yonan

All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Ten Speed Press,
an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
www.crownpublishing.com
www.tenspeed.com

Ten Speed Press and the Ten Speed Press colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.

Some of the content featured in this book originally appeared in the column
Cooking for One by Joe Yonan, and is reprinted here courtesy of The Washington Post .

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Yonan, Joe.
Eat your vegetables : bold recipes for the single cook / Joe Yonan.
pages cm
1. Cooking (Vegetables) 2. Cooking for one. I. Title.
TX801.Y66 2013
641.65dc23
2012046939

Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-60774-442-9
eBook ISBN: 978-1-60774-443-6

Food styling by Adam Pearson

by Sarah Gillingham-Ryan

v3.1

For my sister Rebekah,
the first vegetarian I knew
and my favorite person
to cook with

O NE OF MY obsessions in the 1980s was Bette Midlers comedy album, Mud Will Be Flung Tonight , and of all the tracks, my favorite is one in which she celebrates cynicism. In a singsong voice, accompanied by abstract plunking piano, she utters reason after reason to find the world disappointingstarting with the grandiose (mans inhumanity to man) and descending into the picayune (its so hard to keep your ears clean)followed by the same punch line, over and over: Why bother?

I mention it because Why bother? is the answer too many single people give when I ask what they cook for themselves for dinner. Their next remark is usually along the lines of Why go to all that trouble if its just me? Sadly, they think the only time its worth firing up the stove is when their cooking has an audience. I understand the impulse, but I have to say, theres really no such thing as just you. Who is more important? And if you live alone, as more and more of us do, its silly, in my book, to think that every time youre hungry your only choices are takeout, a microwave pizza, or an impromptu dinner party. I love cooking for others, but plenty of nights I dont have any company, Im enjoying my alone time, and I still want to eatand eat well. Im not going to lower my standards just because Im the only one who is going to benefit from the care I pour into my ingredients. I happen to think I just Iam worth the bother.

Sure, there are obstacles. Single cooks have to overcome the challenges of shopping in supermarkets selling portions designed for familiesor crowds. We have to come to terms with leftovers, a boon when theyre in small quantities and an annoyance in large ones. But the advantages are formidable, too. At the top of my list: freedom. You dont have to take into account anyones palate but your own, meaning you can let your cravings lead you where they may. The potential for satisfaction is huge.

Thats why, several years ago, I started writing a column on cooking for one for the Washington Post , and thats why I wrote my first cookbook, Serve Yourself: Nightly Adventures in Cooking for One , in 2011. I wanted to proselytize about the joys of cooking for yourself, not apologize for it or bemoan the difficulties.

In promoting the book, I started noticing a phenomenon: at signings, classes, and festivals, a disproportionately high number of the single people who wanted to talk to me about my recipes were vegetarian or vegan. They wanted to know how much of the book would be suited to their way of eating. As I flipped through and pointed out all the dishes I thought theyd like (more than half of it is meatless), I started to realize something else: I was moving toward vegetarianism myself. It took me a little by surprise, especially since in the opening to that books meat chapter, I had written: The Texas boy in me, Im afraid, would have a tough time ever giving meat up altogether. My connection to it is just plain hardwired.

The process has been organic, based not on one grand decision but on an evolution of my philosophy and my eating habits. And it hasnt felt like Im giving anything up. Because of the environmental impact and horrid treatment of industrial livestock, I long ago started buying only humanely raised meat from small, local farms and tried to make it less of a focus on my plates. (The mantra is less meat, better meat.) But less started to become much less. Phase one: I started noticing that my freezer was filling up with that meat, and I wasnt cooking it. Why not? Partly, I think, I was subconsciously trying to counter all the meat I was eating in restaurants. Phase two: I started getting less carnivorous at restaurants, too, finding that I was losing those Texas-boy cravings, little by little. Phase three: I started growing more of my own food in a community garden, then spent a year working on my sister and brother-in-laws homestead in Maine, just as they were deciding to become vegan. The modest bounty of my hard-won garden followed by the huge bounty of theirs gave me new inspiration for ways to cook vegetables. I might stay in this phase a good long while, or there might be a phase four. Well see.

What set off this evolution? Health concerns have played a big part. I didnt have a heart attack; my doctor didnt tell me I needed to give up meat; there was no crisis per se. But the older I get, the more difficult it has become to manage my weight. And the older I get, the harder it is for my body to handle overly indulgent, multicourse tasting menu meals of pork belly, foie gras, sweetbreads, and lamb cheeks, the kinds of menus that in food-obsessed circles (like the ones I travel in) have gotten trendier and trendier. I just dont feel good after that kind of eating, and it takes me longer and longer to recover from these rich and meat-heavy meals.