You know what I'm talking about ... when you haven't been to the grocery in weeks, or maybe you just don't feel like cooking even though you bought all those ingredients. And somehow you are perfectly okay with eating noodles with butter. Or just a big bowl of frozen broccoli (microwaved, of course). Or peanut butter and apples with a toasted cheese sandwich -- not grilled, because that would involve getting out the butter and dirtying up a pan that you definitely don't feel like washing. It's a genre of food in its own right, and it's something you certainly don't talk about with your friends.
I was in Nashville a few weeks ago, staying at my attorney's place (I hope someday when I'm hugely wealthy and someone is interviewing my attorney for the story of my life, she tells the story of how the poor, struggling artist used to crash at her house after shows because hotel rooms weren't an option, even though, really, we just liked to hang out and drink bourbon and play Tori Amos songs on her piano.). Anyway, I was there, along with her husband and my Friend-with-a-Truck, and we were trying to figure out what to do about dinner. Nothing sounded particularly good, and we didn't feel like going out. Problematically, there wasn't quite the right variety of ingredients in her refrigerator. There were some great options, just not quite a whole meal.
Then someone suggested we just eat "Single-person food," and somehow, we all immediately relaxed.
We've all eaten single-person meals before, but there is much progress in being able to eat Single Person Meals in front of another human being... to admit that you're perfectly okay with noodles and butter (which is what I ate) ... or with toast and just-past-the-expiration-date gouda ... or better yet, with boxed macaroni-and-cheese.
It's nice to feel that relaxation of not having to put together a perfectly balanced meal just because you may have an audience. At the same time, maybe it's time to go to the grocery store?