ALONE IN THE KITCHEN WITH AN EGGPLANT : Confessions of Cooking for One and Dining Alone edited by Jenni Ferrari-Adler "A potato," I told my brother, when he asked what I'd eaten for dinner. "Boiled, cubed, sauteed with olive oil, sea salt, and balsamic vinegar." "That's it?" he asked. He was one to talk. He'd enjoyed what he called "bachelor's taco night" for three dinners and counting. "A red cabbage, steamed with hot sauce and soy sauce," I said the following night. "Do you need some money?" he asked. But it wasn't that, or it wasn't only that. I liked to think of myself not as a student on a budget, but rather as a peasant, a member of a group whose eating habits, across cultures, had long appealed to me. "Are you full?" my brother asked. "Full enough," I said. "What about protein?" Introduction This was the beginning of Jenni Ferrari-Adler's journeys cooking only fo