Meals for One: If You Cry Into the Bowl, It’s a Broth
A working zine for the nutritionally challenged, flavor-starved, SNAP-stretched (or deprived), salt-bloated survivors of the American Century.
Section I: Lentil Cult Tactics
First: Lentils are not food. Much like chickens are not animals (according to the FDA, anyway.)
They're a protein delivery vector disguised as gravel. But if treated with respect and acid, they can masquerade as cuisine.
Basic Lentil Slop (aka Redneck Dal)
- 1 cup dry lentils (rinse them or you will die)
- 3 cups water
- Simmer until soft (20–30 min)
- Add: garlic, onion, lemon juice, canned tomato, chili flake, mustard, salt if you're reckless
- Optional: egg on top, kale folded in, regret sprinkled liberally
Alternate Form: Smash it. Shape it. Pan-fry into desperation patties. Eat while staring out a window at your oncoming doom.
Section II: Canned Goods That Might Betray You
- Canned tuna: high protein, low pleasure, chance of vomit just thinking about it
- Canned chicken: like meat that gave up
- Dried beef in a jar: Only use if pretending you're in a trench somewhere
- Stuffed grape leaves: $4 for 8 seconds of bliss, 8 hours of bloat
- Canned tomatoes: actual miracle food. Acid + bulk = soup potential
- Canned fruit (in water): Blender fuel. Add lemon juice and two ice cubes, and lie to yourself that you're alive
Section III: The Salt Reckoning
Foods you love that (not-so) secretly hate your blood pressure:
- Pickles (you drink the brine, don't lie); also, capers
- Stuffed Grape leaves (same)
- Cheap low(er)-sodium soy sauce (= bat urine with MSG; "no soy sauce" is preferable)
- Anything labeled "low sodium" is just normal sodium with a PR agent
Survival tactic: dilute, stretch with rice, lemon juice, or the tears of your enemies.
Luxury foods that you love that are not also salt licks:
- Hot sauce; the only problem is that consuming a whole bottle straight, as a meal, is an expensive luxury
- Green grapes; just don't be diabetic; don't be diabetic period, if you can help it
- Lettuce... wait...
- ... steak... without salt. Which is neither affordable, or something you'd care to eat
- Nevermind
Section IV: Kale: From Hope to Ashes
Kale Chips: How to make 3 leaves disappear in 11 seconds
- Bake at 350°F
- Olive oil (ha!), or just lemon juice, salt, maybe chili flake and your sweat, buddy
- Crunch into oblivion, or grind with mortar and pestle for Magic Kale Dust1
Alternate form:
- Chopped into eggs, buried under lentils, or offered to the Compost God when wilted
Section V: Spice-Only “Meals” and the Lies They Tell
Sometimes you have no food. But you have paprika. Maybe curry powder. Maybe even red pepper flakes if you're fancy or recently mugged a bum.
- Mix with hot water: pretend it's soup2
- Sniff the bottle: pretend it's aromatherapy or a relapse
- Dry rub your dignity, roast it, eat that instead
Pro Tip: Spice + vinegar/lemon juice + onion/garlic + some kind of mass = the holy trinity of make-it-edible. Buy Saltines when they're on sale and freeze.
Section VI: Nacho-Based Spirituality
The Despair Nacho Protocol:
- Corn tortilla (if you got it; recipe below); if not, a cheap paper-towel that's been crisped in the oven
- Shredded cheese or smashed canned beans
- Jalapeños, hot sauce, or chili flake
- Toast until warm or slightly burnt
Eat standing over stove. Say nothing. Think nothing, and most of all try to feel nothing as the words to Nine Inch Nails' "Hurt" just repeat in your head over and over without your say-so.
Bonus: White Gravy Deathmatch
"Shit on a Shingle" is not a meal. It is a trauma memory for me for probably obvious reasons. White gravy, unless on chicken-fried steak, can kindly die in a ditch next to a Lime Scooter some asshole threw down the ravine to Make Things Difficult for the Next Guy. No Northern-ish-born human should be expected to survive on it unless served by a grandmother with ill intent.
Hydration Notes
- Lemon juice = salvation. "Water" = 50/50 split.
- Pickle brine = ragewater/rocket fuel.
- Apple cider vinegar = functional masochism.
- 1/2 balsamic + 1/2 ACV + no oil + basically any spice/small dark dots or flakes = actual salad dressing if you squint.
#OCTOBER UPDATE
🔥 Emergency Tortilla Protocol (Masa-Only Edition)
🧂 Ingredients
- 1 cup masa harina
- ~¾ cup warm water
- ½ tsp salt
- ½ tsp oil (or a touch less — you said “micro element,” so we’ll use it to smooth the dough or the pan)
👨🍳 Steps
Mix It
- In a bowl: combine masa harina + salt.
- Add warm water gradually, stirring with a spoon or fingers until it forms a Play-Doh-like dough. Not sticky, not crumbly.
- Add just a few drops of oil to help cohesion (optional — traditional tortillas skip this).
Knead It
- Knead for about 2–3 minutes.
- If it’s cracking: add a tiny bit more water.
- If it’s sticking: dust with a bit more masa.
Divide and Rest
- Break into golf-ball sized balls.
- Let rest 5–10 minutes under a damp towel or plastic wrap.
Flatten
- Use a tortilla press. Or:
- Place dough ball between two sheets of plastic (Ziploc bag, parchment, etc.)
- Smash with heavy skillet or board until ~⅛” thin
- Use a tortilla press. Or:
Cook
- Heat a dry skillet (cast iron = ideal) over medium-high
- Toss in a tortilla:
- Cook 30–60 sec (look for dry edges, slight puff)
- Flip, cook another 30–60 sec
- Flip again if you want extra brown or puff
Keep Warm
- Stack in a clean towel to keep warm + steamy
- Or eat immediately and burn your mouth in righteous glory
🍽 Tips
- Cracks during pressing = dough too dry
- Sticking = too wet or under-floured
- Pan too cool = chewy
- Pan too hot = scorched sadness
- Caused life-threatening bowel obstruction requiring surgery = too dry
🤌 How to Serve with Nothing
- Wrap around beans, cheese, hot sauce, a dried out shrivel of dignity
- Tear and fry into tostadas or "tortilla chips"
- Reheat over flame for blistered smoky joy
- Or -really- reheat over flame, grab a ball of corny fire, and run through the streets, wild and free.
You now wield the ancient corn disk.
Proceed with honor.
⸻
Closing Words
You’re not eating like a foodie. You’re surviving like a chef in hell. But if you can squeeze lemon juice onto lentils and make fake nachos with dignity, you’re winning. This is the guide for when food isn’t joy — it’s armor.
No one can take your mustard but you.
