Some weeknights I feel like a bad “food person.” After spending my workdays testing and tasting recipes, or generally playing with food, the last thing I want to do when I get home is cook more, especially when I’m only feeding myself. Some nights, and I hate to admit this, I end up eating like I did as a latchkey kid, just a little fancier. I’ll have a bowl of buttery peas with herbs (but the butter is cultured and homemade!), or apples and almond butter dressed up with spices and chopped hazelnuts and flax seeds for more texture (and more healthiness since people say they’re good for you), or random bits of cheese and whatever green things I have in my fridge, or piles of produce I picked up at the greenmarket, straight up. And canned sardines. Those things keep me afloat.
I’m perfectly content with calling these things dinner on a weeknight, but the weekends are for treating myself a little better. I start every Saturday with a trip to the greenmarket. I never have a list or any kind of recipe in mind, I just go treasure hunting. I’ll pick up whatever is pretty or interesting and get the farmers to tell me all about it, then spend the weekend playing with whatever I picked up. I’m not sure what I’ll be making this weekend, but I know I’ll be excited about it and it’ll be more grown up than my weeknight meals.