The Upsides to Downsizing Dinner
There are two types of people. The ones who say Congratulations! when you tell them you’re getting divorced, and the ones who grab your arm and gasp, That’s so sad!
Sure, at the beginning, it was odd to cook for three, or two, or one, and not our nuclear family of four. I wouldn’t say it was sad, though. It was weird. It was unfamiliar. It was quieter.
Once my ex and I had established that I was going to be the one staying in the family home, I thought a lot about what the new regime was like from my younger son Cosmo’s point of view. Dad’s at his place, brother is at college, and now you get to have dinner alone with your mother. From my side of the table, I was still adjusting to not seeing him during my off weeks, and I tried hard not to firehose 100 percent of my attention on him when we were reunited. Be chill, Mom. Normalcy is not being grilled for updates every time you see your parent. Even with that restraint on my part, we didn’t struggle to find conversation during dinner. Some seats around the table were empty, and that meant he was no longer witness to tension between his parents; he was not trying to find a way in edgewise with his older brother; and I still cooked the whole pound of pasta. This scenario was no one’s first choice. But — could be worse.
From then on, the more one-on-one time we spent together, the more our relationship grew. Because our gang-of-two scenario had never really existed before, there were no built-in triggers, and we got to invent a new dynamic as we went.
Cooking for mother and child was objectively easier and less expensive. Cooking a smaller volume of ingredients also took less time. Additionally, what I sold as “dinner” got a lot looser. Hard-boiled eggs and toast with some salami and a big salad? That’s a meal. The voices telling me this should be a horrible period quieted as I got into a groove and realized how freeing it was to throw something together on the fly, rather than panicking at 4 p.m. because I didn’t have enough protein in the house.
I had a boss who used to say: There are no problems, only challenges. He used this to deter complaining, and I thought he’d be pleased to know it also worked as motivation for our evening meals. I was willing to set up a three-step dredging station to make breaded chicken cutlets on a weeknight. There were fewer breasts to flatten, not as many bread crumbs in the mix, and getting everything through the conveyor belt was faster. To cutlet midweek is a treat: Cutlets are the best.
One afternoon I picked up a vacuum-sealed rack of lamb chops for the two of us. High price per pound, yet not as many pounds. Eating lamb always feels special, and I wanted all of my time with Cosmo to be special. We no longer waited for a reason to light candles. It became a part of basic table-setting along with forks and knives, and we played with the wax that flooded the wick and ran down the sides when we were done eating. I loved doing that as a child, and I loved doing it with my child.
Other rituals emerged. A one-and-done pesto pasta became our Monday night special, which then turned into TV dinner night — unheard of as a foursome, but sweet as a couple. We’d sit hip to hip on the floor of the TV room with our bowls on the coffee table in front of us. We like Bob’s Burgers, The Office, Parks and Recreation. We discovered Cosmo had outgrown his aversion to fish sauce after I added it to a marinade for beef; the resulting stir-fry becomes another weekly staple. Instead of dessert, we closed out our meals with a round of good-faith negotiation: Are you in the mood to make a deal? The terms are always the same: How will we divvy up the dishes, who’s It for the last dog walk, and who bundles the cardboard recycling. This is our thing. It is self-referential only in our unit; it deepens and changes based on the flair one of us brings to the after-dinner wheeling-and-dealing. (For the record, I’d rather load the dishwasher than do yet another dog walk.)
So, no. It’s not sad. It’s just different.
Sometimes we have stand-up dinner at the kitchen island: steamed (frozen) dumplings and edamame dressed with sesame oil and black pepper; multiple rounds of quesadillas; Mexican delivery from our neighborhood spot. Sometimes, Cosmo comes home late and cooks for himself. I want to observe, but force myself not to hover — mostly because I can’t watch the mess unfold. He emerges with steaming ramen that he eats straight out of the saucepot, perfectly fried eggs that he photographs and texts to his buddies, exquisite grilled cheese sandwiches with lacquered surfaces that he parades under my nose. The trick is mayonnaise and low heat, he tells me when I beg for a mouse bite.
Big change is uncomfortable, therapy speak I repeated to myself during that transitional time. Cosmo and I talk about what’s been hard for him about having to move back and forth between two households, how annoying it is to repeat information for each parent, the awkwardness of those first holidays and vacations we spent without each other. These are the immutable and unavoidable downsides that come with divorce. I have no control over how he’ll feel about these changes; I can only try to show up for him when we talk. What’s on the table between us, though — for that we both have a say and a shared objective, and one way or another, we know how to get fed.
*****
Lemony Chickpea Stew With Rice
From Food Is a Feeling: Recipes & Stories, With Love by Carla Lalli
Serves 4, or 2 with leftovers
For the Stew
2 lemons
1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil
6 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
4 celery stalks, cut into small dice
2 medium leeks, sliced into ½-inch-thick rounds, rinsed and blotted dry
Kosher salt; freshly ground pepper
2 (15.5-ounce) cans chickpeas, drained and rinsed
1 teaspoon coriander seeds, crushed
1 teaspoon dried dill
1 teaspoon dried mint
3/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
1/2 cup long-grain white rice, rinsed
4 cups chicken or vegetable stock
For the Magic Green Sauce and Serving
Ice
4 big handfuls of mature spinach, trimmed and roughly chopped
2 cups mixed loosely packed herbs, such as cilantro, dill, and/or chives
1/2 cup nutritional yeast
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 garlic clove
Kosher salt; freshly ground pepper
For Serving
Greek yogurt
1 lemon, cut into wedges
Olive oil, for drizzling
Crushed red pepper flakes
Kosher salt; freshly ground pepper
Make the stew:
Use a vegetable peeler to remove the zest in wide strips from 1 lemon. Squeeze 1/4 cup of juice from that lemon, and possibly 1 more. Set zest and juice aside, separately. Heat a heavy deep skillet with a lid or 4-quart Dutch oven over medium. Add the olive oil, garlic, celery, and leeks. Season with salt and pepper and cook, stirring frequently, until the vegetables get juicy, about 3 minutes. Cover the pot and cook until the leeks soften, 3 to 5 minutes.
Uncover, allowing steam to drip back into the pot, and increase the heat to medium-high. Cook, stirring, until the garlic is light golden. Lower the heat to medium, add the chickpeas, and stir to coat. Add the coriander, dill, mint, pepper flakes, and strips of zest. Stir to bloom the spices. Stir in the rice. Add the stock and 2 tablespoons lemon juice (save the rest of the juice for the sauce).
Bring the liquid to a simmer, then cover the pot, lower the heat to medium-low, and cook gently until the rice is tender, about 15 minutes.
Make the Magic Green Sauce:
Place two ice cubes into a blender jar and top with the spinach, herbs, nutritional yeast, olive oil, and the remaining 2 tablespoons lemon juice. Finely grate the garlic right into the mix and season with salt and pepper. Blend until smooth and emulsified, about 2 minutes (the ice helps keep the mixture green). Add water by the tablespoon if needed to get the blades turning. Transfer the sauce to a bowl; you should have about 1 cup or a bit more. Taste and season the sauce as needed.
Check the stew for seasoning; loosen if desired with more stock or hot water. Serve the stew topped with a big spoonful each of yogurt and Magic Green Sauce, lemon wedges, a drizzle of olive oil, a pinch of pepper flakes, and some salt and pepper.
Carla Lalli’s wonderful new cookbook, Food Is a Feeling comes out on September 8th. In her book, she shares beloved recipes and heartfelt essays about the transformative period following the end of her 24-year marriage. A former Bon Appetit editor, she now writes the newsletter Food Processing. Thank you, Carla! xoxo
P.S. Five things that surprised Joanna about her divorce, and what food geniuses eat when they’re home alone.
(Excerpted from Food Is a Feeling by Carla Lalli. Copyright © 2026 by Carla Lalli. Photographs copyright © 2026 by Lucia Bell-Epstein. Published in the United States by Clarkson Potter/Publishers, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Random House LLC.)
Comments
52 commentsCarla, I loved watching you on BA during lockdown and my hand literally went to my heart when I read your name at the bottom of this post and realized you’d written it! (Somehow I didn’t recognize you in the picture but did think, “wow that woman has amazing curls.”) Love your longer piece in Vogue and will look out for your new book! https://www.vogue.com/article/carla-lalli-book-excerpt
I loved both of these pieces. Thank you for sharing, L K!
I loved hearing about your time and rituals with your son. That connection is so special and cozy! I’m not divorced, but going through a rough time in perimenopause, but hanging out and watching movies with my 16 yo son is so special to me and getting me through.
I love Carla! Congratulations to her on building another life xxx
Really enjoyed this piece — the blend of life, food, and creativity comes through so tenderly.
Long Live Carla Lalli 🙏🏻❤️
Thanks for sharing your story. My first years post divorce were similar. I still remember who it was who congratulated me. Thinking back I see it more about her life. One of our favorite routines was Thursday nights. We came home, cleaned house in under two hours, went out to dinner with the money we’d saved and returned to watch Grays Anatomy. The night Obama was elected I was so happy to have her sitting beside me.
Carla Lassi! I am delighted to know she has a new book coming out. I am always glad to know what she is cooking, she has a rare talent for recipes that taste really good. The first time I remember seeing/hearing of her was when she cooked with Rick Martinez on a Food 52 video. They made a lamb burger with a killer green sauce. I cooked that burger for my family, including a visiting nephew. Nephew after one bite, “We should have lamb more often.” Nephew after four bites, “Lamb is my favorite meat.” And Carla Lassi has been making wonderful things ever since in my life.
This was lovely. Thank you Carla.
Those two types of people she mentions at the top are SO real. I found that I could immediately tell who had a GENUINELY happy, loving, relationship and who didn’t from their reaction to the news of my divorce. Those who were heartbroken for me were the ones who would be devastated to lose their partners and the ones who said congratulations often started asking me for exit tips in the near future.
Maybe, but I feel that generalizing like this is dangerously presumptuous. Often those devastated by the thought are clinging to a dead or dying marriage, in denial. We can’t really know. Why even try to guess? On a side note this is one of the most insidious problems with market analysis techniques that think conclusions can be arrived at based on nebulous data. Super annoying.
Idk, I am in a loving, happy relationship and I still respond with supportive positivity when friends tell me they’re divorcing! I recognize that their relationships aren’t mine, so why would I be mournful about my friend divorcing her emotionally abusive jerk husband, for example? (I’m thinking of a specific friend, and I am so glad she’s free and healing now!)
El, I agree — I think the difference (which is so interesting) comes down to whether you’ve had experience in your life with divorce at all — maybe with your parents, or your friends, or yourself. because then you see that if a couple has come to the difficult decision to divorce, it’s almost always the right decision and a path to happier times. and thus, congratulations! xoxo
Agree with Niki. Marriages are so complicated. Assuming you can guess what is happening in them from a few words is probably not accurate. Congratulations to everyone who has made the hard but correct decision to end a marriage that has run its course!
I think the best response is one of surprise: “oh,” followed by a question: “How are you doing with everything going on?” And if the answer is: “Great! I’m so happy to be out of the loveless marriage,” then you respond: Wonderful! I’m happy for you!. And if the answer is: “It’s tough; I’m just trying to get through,” or “it’s been really hard on the kids,” or “I’m broken hearted” Or anything of the sort, then you respond: “I’m sorry to hear that. These things can be really hard. Can i _____ (fill in the blank an offer of support).”
There’s a lot of tension at the table at my house these days, so I feel like I can relate to so much of this bittersweet story. Carla, thank you for your wonderful book, which I borrowed from my local library. I have been following you and your recipes for many years. Thank you for your delicious and do-able recipes made to feed a real family on a real budget in real life. You have saved dinner more than once, so you count as a kind of supper superhero in my book. Wishing you much success as you navigate new waters. I, for one, am rooting for you! (Also, let me know what I should make for dinner tomorrow, haha!)
Thank you for giving me a moment to appreciate the meals my parents shared with me when I was growing up. Those were some of our best times.
All the heart eyes for Carla — and Cosmo, who will permanently be an 8yo with a giant stack of power pancakes™️!
Same!!!!
I’m so excited for this book.
Wow I love Carla and was not expecting to see her here. That recipe looks perfect for easing into fall and the green sauce does sound magical. I love the line about not waiting for a special occasion to light the candles as well as the spirit of flexibility and inventiveness brought into dinners.
Oh, love this post! During my divorce process, I found myself cooking more complicated recipes than normal just for the relief of following someone else’s directions during a time when big change and the decisions that came along with that took up so much of my energy. Dinner with my two kids, both in their late teens by then, was so much more relaxed without the dynamic of the tense marriage at the table with us. I have surprisingly great memories of that first year as a single parent.
This was a boost to my day! I am in the early stages of divorce and writing like yours is so validating and assuring. It is real, quiet, and beautiful. It give me hope and I am already experiencing little pockets of my own liberation and new chapter feeling. Divorce is regenerative.. Thank. you for sharing and I am definitely ordering a copy of your new book!
I just wanted to say thank you. I dont know if this is a response to a comment that someone else and I dropped in a post a few weeks back, but the timing is impeccable. I was feeling pretty low at the time packing up my life to move into my separated-and-divorcing space, but this essay has given me hope. Thank you for seeing a request and fulfilling it. I don’t have kids and the evenings are still lonely, but I have dinner together with the dog, who I even cook for, so I guess we take care of each other.
Congratulations on your new life! I hope you make a cozy home and have lovely dinners with your pup. We’re cheering for you.
I adore Carla and I’m so happy to see her here today! This story and share got me in the feels. Thanks pal. 😘
Loved this piece. Yes, it’s different — but you also get to enjoy your children at a different stage with more focus just on them. Post-divorce, I have cooked so many of their favorite meals… roast chicken, fresh ramen, matzo ball soup, homemade meatballs, sushi bowls. They come home and immediately ask “what’s for dinner?” It gives me comfort to be able to provide that little ritual for them. And like Carla, we have made our own new traditions — movie nights, game nights, books I read at the table, and once daylight savings time hits, candlelit meals. They both love learning how to cook and recently asked if I would make recipe books for them. I got a kick out of writing “instructions” for my ridiculously easy home cooking, like a cucumber salad (“buy the freshest cucumber you can find…”). For anyone in the early stages of divorce, I hope you know that your family will continue to grow, and your home — and dinner table — will continue to be a source of love and comfort.
Same!! Yael, your comment, and Carla’s whole piece resonated deeply. I was so anxious and scared during my separation and eventual divorce, but as you said, my home continued to be a source of love and comfort. I particularly loved this line in Carla’s essay: “Because our gang-of-two scenario had never really existed before, there were no built-in triggers, and we got to invent a new dynamic as we went.” YES – inventing new dynamics is an absolute regenerative joy.
Carla, I’ve loved you since the BA days and I am so so so happy that you have written *this* book.
As a small family of 3 our dinners look like yours. I love it. My mom was a fantastic cook and every meal was something… i never had an industrial biscuit, a frozen or canned food until university. And we had china and cutlery for every occasion. It was a privilege but eating quesadilla in front of a tv show or while playing cards with my 12 y old is never annoying or heavy… meals have to be fun! Love from Paris
While I am no longer single, as a very long time single person who loves to cook, I passionately believe some foods are best made for one (or maybe 2, if you’re feeling extra generous). Pancakes, for example, are one of my favorite things to make for me, myself, and I. If you make it in batch, I either end up eating alone after everyone else or someone is left eating cold pancakes (and that is simply a travesty because I make the best pancakes). Grilled cheese, pizza, most egg dishes (including breakfast sandwiches), hash browns with eggs (my favorite!) and the like are also some of my favorite foods best made in single portions.
My tip to avoid eating the sad cold pancakes left for the chef: as you cook, have a pan with a wire rack in the oven set to 200 f. Put the pancakes on the rack as you go. Then when you are all done, serve them all at once. Warm pancakes all at once for everyone!
I’m widowed, not divorced, but I still felt so comforted by Carla Lalli’s kind-hearted, realistic essay. Thank you on behalf of myself and anyone else who feels lonely or sad when it’s dinner time for a smaller-than-the-so-called-ideal number of diners. Like Carla, my young-adult child and I mostly have informal meals. Often he makes pasta which we each combine with our own choice of protein and sauce. Other times he gets a take-out sandwich while I forage at home with canned beans. (Food allergies limit my take-out choices.)But hey, we eat (mostly) healthy food in a loving home. All is not lost!
We’re cheering for both of you in your new lives!
Going through a divorce and feeling so much anxiety about the unknowns. This was exactly what I needed today. Feeling a little excited about eating quesadillas by candlelight with my kids when the time comes. Onward.
oh my gosh, SAME! it feels like this post came straight out of the universe specifically for me. I’m also going through a divorce and only yesterday realized that cooking for a group has become one of my favorite passions … I started to panic: who will I be without the giant sunday dinners and holiday hosting duties? But reading this post (and your comment, eps!) helps me feel like: it’s going to be ok.
Carla is one of the few cooks whose recipes I can trust. You can tell that she actually stress tests them! So delicious and with such a kind regard for her readers being able to follow through!
Ah, this is so beautifully written. Thank you Carla and can’t wait for Feed is a Feeling!
So lovely to see you here, what a beautiful and relatable piece. Looking forward to reading the book!
As the family chef, it’s interesting how I adapt based on who is home. When my husband is traveling, we eat breakfast for dinner at least one night—something he would frown upon partaking in after 11 am. This post resonates with me right now, as I just dropped my oldest off at college. He eats meat, meat, and more meat and heaping portions of whatever I make. I always have to recalibrate the meal planning as he comes and goes, leaning into vegetarian meals and soups more when he’s away—which the rest of the family eats with no complaints. Even though it’s easier for me, cooking-wise, when he’s off enjoying the university dining plan, I simultaneously feel a pang of sadness each time I put dinner on the table.
I have three nights a week solo with my kid because my partner teaches night classes! Kiddo is only 4 and in a volatile phase, so those evenings are kind of a slog right now But this is giving me some hope about our future (husband will likely always teach night classes) routines together, and it’s got me thinking about how to establish something small and special now.
<3<3<3 Love this. Congrats on all fronts.
Yes! We will never be free until we abolish the pressure around family dinner! – I prefer all family meals served apertivo style, or like a cocktail party – best served on any table top except for kitchen (counters, side table while reading a book, toy train table while watching a movie, outside!) – whoever cooks just makes what they want to eat and we all try and just say thank you!
I love this. I grew up where, once I was ten, if I didn’t want what my mom cooked I could make something for myself, but she super wasn’t going to try to cater to all the different preferences around the table. As a result, I learned how to cook and be safe around an oven very quickly. I did get a few burns on my hands but to this day I have an adventurous palate and feel reasonably confident tackling any recipe and would even make stuff for the whole family on occasion—including sides and dessert. Eating what’s in front of you is a learned skill that carries you beyond childhood as well. As is cooking.
I wholeheartedly agree that the menu should generally be chef’s choice :)
Oh my heart when reading this essay! It speaks to me on levels – cooking for larger a family, then downsizing to cook for 2 in the aftermath of divorce, discovering and making new rituals and dinners for that duo, then seeing your child become a chef in their own way and not hovering . I own and love Carla’s earlier cookbook That Sounds So Good; I immediately requested Food is a Feeling from my library. Thank you for this beautiful piece, I look forward to diving into your new work!
Oh, I love Carla AND her cookbooks! Man, the BA channel sure tanked after the mass exodus.
Thank you for this wonderful feature! Cooking for one has been a delightful challenge, on my post-divorce off days—usually things my kids don’t prefer, like lamb stroganoff and cheesy polenta with heaps of butter-sautéed mushrooms. I’m in the process of learning what people do when they’re alone, again. Questions like: “what meals-for-one do you love?” and “what do you listen to when you’re alone in the car?”
Beautiful article, thank you. My daughter is a vegetarian and very focused eater which changes how we eat when she is home from college. I change from making meals to making ingredients which everyone can assemble to their taste. Cooked and uncooked veggies, chickpea salad, roasted chicken thighs, pasta or pasta salad, feta, etc. All in the fridge and ready to go. Sauces too. It’s not glamorous but it works.
Carla, this is the second cookbook I (just now) bought in my life ever. I like how you put words in a row that made me feel calm and at home; and made me feel that any storm that reaches the shore can be met with food and everything that comes with it. Thank you. I also feel this should be pinned on every fridge, door, inside the cupboard and over the sink: “We no longer waited for a reason to light candles.” Ok, going to cry now because this is what poetry makes me do. Sob. Thank you.
What a lovely surprise to hear Carla’s voice on Cup of Jo! Miss her YT and Bon Appetit videos. I’m glad to read this post from her, as I was curious how she was navigating divorce, but also find her experience applicable to all people making dinner: a meal you make yourself for yourself, for two, or more can be delicious and easy and not a production; mostly it’s a time for connection. Hope I can remember this when I’m pressuring myself to present a healthy dinner for my family!
Oh wow! What a pleasant surprise to see you here. I was one of the hordes who enjoyed those BA videos so much up until the Sohla revolution then abandoned it because it definitely soured the BA vibe. I lost track of where all of you went as quarantine lifted and life moved on. You look amazing in the above photo and I am so happy to read your story, above. It was tender and special to hear about how you navigate your relationship with your son. The recipe looks incredibly comforting and I can tell it will be something I enjoy very much. Will make it tonight! Thank you so much.