D1NNER for one™
Back by popular demand …
In 2020, I was home enjoying and also languishing in my quiet time. Like everyone other single person in the world, I was dining solo in my apartment. If I couldn’t go out, I’d bring the ambiance in. I styled my tabletops with fresh flowers, candles and started to cook like there was no tomorrow - if you recall it really felt like there might not be a tomorrow.
I created healthy and delicious single portioned meals that became the talk of my Instagram feed and inspired 114 pages of breakfast, lunch, desserts, cocktails, mocktails and dinner for one!
More than a collection of delicious recipes “D1NNER for One” is a self-care guide and a tribute to those who spent some of the most challenging global experiences together, independently.
@thenikki.life
“I COOK THESE delicious DISHES for myself when my kids want to eat chicken nuggets.”
@miss_kognenniality
“We joke that your cookbook turned my son into a renaissance man. He sends pohots of his recipes daily.”
@_1makeup_123
“I light a candle and HAVE chocolate mousse. i am seducing myself.”
@dwoods137
“your salads made me love making salads. all of them!”
@carterofzamunda
“YOUR COOKBOOK IS REALLY AWESOME. I’M RECOMMENDING IT TO ALL OF MY FRIENDS . YOU’RE TEACHING US HOW TO BE ADULTS OUT HERE!”
AS SEEN IN
I am a self-described spinster, sexy, funny, and audacious.
Pre-pandemic, I lived the quintessential metropolitan life. I enjoyed endless cocktail hours, dinner dates, coffees, and brunches. I accepted invitations to attend glitzy galas, movie premieres, fashion shows, and ballets. Still single, showing up stag and making the most of every invitation.
Then 2020... I felt I had been suspended in time. New York had become the center of dread and despair, then fear gave way to togetherness. People rode bicycles in pairs to get the CDC’s daily recommended exercise, and photos of families joyfully piled together on sofas watching Netflix appeared everywhere.
Singlehood was on display with hostile reinforcement: The bread was molding before you got through the loaf, your neighbor who you’ve never spoken to had become your emergency contact, and everyone was getting pregnant. My mother even took out an insurance policy in case I died alone, in my Manhattan apartment.
I made a choice to not tangle myself in the consternation, loneliness, and pity projected onto me. I wasn’t sad; I was single.
I learned the extraordinary feeling of having obligations only to myself. Offering myself grace and kindness, and spending days reflecting on the things great and small that gave me pleasure. In 2020 B.C. (before Covid), I’d often treated myself to fine things: dinners, pinot noir at the bar, lunch in the park, and double (there’s that word again) scooped ice cream cones outside of the Guggenheim. Why should this temporary stay be any less desirable?
It all began with a lobster bisque and a bushel of tulips. I wanted to make a dinner that I hadn’t the imagination or motivation to prepare. If we were still going out, lobster bisque would be the posh entrée I would order at lunch with friends. I devised a plan, went to the market, then “single-sized” the recipe. Success! Creamy, savory, and just the touch of swish I needed to feel satiated and accomplished.
My personal pandemic theme was “indulgent evolution,” and I was succeeding. I tapped into my curiosity by learning a new skill. Arranging fresh flowers to accompany my dinner sparked creativity. Shopping small and reducing food waste increased my consciousness and gave me a sense of community. My single-sized dinners represented a consistency and excitement I’d rarely felt when planning an activity for myself. More than ever, I was dedicated to making healthy food choices that nourished my mind, body, and soul.
In a year of cooking for myself, lobster bisque was one of my favorite dishes—it feels glamorous and it’s not too daunting for a single person not used to cooking. This recipe boasts flavor and decadence, just like me!