On Dining Alone

'Memory, individual rather than collective, accounts for who we are and what we have become. And early memory is particularly valuable, though it can be misconstrued. Its influence can persist throughout adult life, though what is cause and what effect may be difficult to judge'. ~ Anita Brookner


I spent much of my early childhood with my grandparents. From an early age I was invited to my grandparents' dinner parties which gave me an opportunity to observe the habits and lives of their cultured and sophisticated friends.

They always dressed up in the most dashing style for their dinner parties. They liked people and places to be beautiful, if they were not it was their vocation to make them so. At one dinner party, an elderly lady with crimson coloured nails asked me how old I was. I replied, "I'm seven". She said, "That's a good age". Being a precocious child, I straightened up and replied, "I thought six was better". She gave me a smile from her red lips and replied with a twinkle, "Oh my dear! You're nostalgic".


I miss their dinner parties as I grow older. As we lead increasingly busier and more hectic lives, we don't often have time to sit down at the dinner table and make our dinner a special occasion. It's even more difficult to manage this routine if you are single and you live alone because you'll be invited out to a friend's house for dinner or some people probably go to the nearest pubs for their dinner.


There's a book called Banqueting for One that I cherished ever since my high school days. It's written by Joan Wolfenden [pictured above] whom I greatly admired. Her beautifully handwritten books are a work of art. She's my domestic goddess! There are two books (published in the 1980s) called Banqueting For One (1985) and Feasting with a Fork (1986). Both of these books have been my survival guides for cooking and they are suitable for people who live on their own or people who have a small kitchen. When I was at the university, most of the student accommodation where I stayed had a very small kitchen. It was the most minimal and limited when it came to the kitchen utensil. One would be lucky if one can find a chopping board or a saucepan.


Joan's book, Banqueting for One was very informative and easy to follow. It has got the most basic instruction of how to cut the chicken or how to make a salad. I have got all her books at home and they come in handy when there is a dinner party or looking for an inspiration to cook a quick, easy and delicious meal. It is such a pity that most of her books are now out of print. They are now collectors' items. She was a bit of an eccentric when she was alive. Her marketing style was to fill her fast car with books and take them around booksellers in the South of England making them offers they could not afford to miss.


Every Wednesday, in the memory of my grandparents, I always have a dinner at home. Sometimes, I have a guest but most of the time, I eat on my own. But eating alone is eating with someone you love.

Yesterday, I cooked one of Joan's autumn recipes [Pumpkin soup and Roasted Venison]. I dug out an old vintage LP record of a torch singer, Helen Morgan while I was cooking in the kitchen. The scratchy sound from the scraping of the needle in my record player transported me to another bygone era.


I lit the candles and put the roses into a pottery jug for the table. It was one of the most romantic evenings I've ever spent. It was so relaxing, intimate and self-sufficient.


After the dinner, while I had my coffee, I thought what a beautiful evening I had. And then, I suddenly saw Mouche [in French meaning Fly], the cat sleeping with contentment during Helen Morgan's songs under the crochet blanket. He knows where to find comfort.