The unexpected pleasures of eating solo

With my partner Sarit away on family business, I found myself in London on my own for five weeks, the longest we’ve been apart since we got married 20 years ago.

Most couples’ lives are intertwined, ours perhaps a bit more than most: we live, work, hobby and holiday together, and we share most of our meals (Sarit is my partner at Honey & Co). It is hard to know where one person’s tastes end and the other’s begin. I was curious to learn what my eating habits would look like when dining solo. I have a repertoire of dishes I cook just for me, Ottolenghi’s black pepper tofu being one, a dish full of gentle, complex flavours that are too spicy for my wife’s taste. It is quite a mission to make, but whenever I do, it’s a real celebration.

Simpler pleasures that I turn to when pure comfort is needed are my onion rice and Nigella’s Marmite pasta. I use linguine instead of spaghetti, and more than double the amount of Marmite she recommends – in fact, every time I make it, I add a little more, and have yet to reach my too-much-Marmite threshold.

After eating solo for a while, I noticed that my dinners became simpler, almost plain. I wasn’t interested in meat or fish, or anything cooked. My meals were like that of some Balkan goatherd: a piece of bread, some olives, a plain white dairy product and a few vegetables. I’d sit for an evening in front of the TV with labneh and za’atar pitta chips brought home from work, or a bowl of thick yoghurt mixed with garlic and olive oil, dipping toasted bread and tiny, crunchy cucumbers from Lidl; bites from a bunch of French breakfast radishes interspersed with chunks of soft, salty goat’s cheese and slices of buttered baguette; a mound of young lettuce leaves with crisp chickpeas (pictured top) – a new staple in our house – was not dressed but drowned in buttermilk with dill, making it somewhere between a salad and a cold soup. But always with bread to dip and mop, and always with olives.

My ultimate meal for one came with the aid of my air fryer: drizzle generous amounts of olive oil on a thick piece of sourdough, cook in the air fryer until crisp and golden, rub a whole fat clove of garlic on its surface and cover with thick slices of tomato. More oil, sea salt, a bit of chilli, if you like, and a sprinkle of any dry or fresh herb you have on hand, then back in the air fryer for a minute or two, until the tomato just heats up and starts to collapse. Mash the tomato into the bread with a fork, top with a bit of feta or pecorino, though that’s not at all essential. Olives on the side definitely are, though. How many olives is too many? We brought two kilos of green and black ones back from a trip to Gaeta, Italy, in May, and there is now just a small bowlful left.

Sarit is coming home next week. I hope she brings some olives.

A meal worth the Eurostar ticket … | My beautiful friends rallied round, inviting me over, going out with me to eat, and taking me to movies (I cried in Àma Gloria, tripped a bit in La Chimera, and wholly recommend both). They even took me on a whirlwind weekend to Paris. If you are going there this summer for the Olympics (as if you need an excuse to go to Paris), don’t miss out on a meal at Le Servan, and at Mokonuts for delicious, delicate food that is worth the Eurostar ticket alone.

TV dinners | Much TV was watched, not all of it bad – I loved Blue Eye Samurai, and adored The Outlaws. I’m thinking of starting a petition for a Greg Dillard and Lady Gabby spin-off show. Who’s with me?

Made you blush | Anaïs Fanti, a rosé that isn’t a rosé, but is. Exactly what we’ll be drinking this summer, chilled.

What I read | The incomparable Anna Jones came to cook with us from her excellent new book, Easy Wins, as part of Honey & Co’s summer series of supper clubs, and it was a hoot – this book is her best yet (we say it every time she has a book out). More events in the series include Emiko Davies cooking comforting Japanese food and Omer Ido’s Jewish Kurdish food.

Double-digit celebration | This summer marks 10 years since our first book, Food from the Middle East, was published. How did that happen? We get old, but this food definitely doesn’t. We’re celebrating with a special edition and a menu from the book in our Lamb’s Conduit Street restaurant.