I had been dating Shawn for 18 months when I realized I was ready for the next step. We had Netflix marathoned Breaking Bad and Gilmore Girls, I had gotten way too drunk off of Fireball shots in front of his friends, and we both really had let ourselves go – I was a size FOUR. You know what comes next: the unnecessarily painful breakup. The kind that permits sleeping with his fraternity brother who he was medium-close with.
This would only work, of course, if I made him think it was his idea. I schemed here and there. The Gilmore Girls marathon? Totally his idea. Couples’ laser hair removal? Totally his idea. My Tinder profile “just to see what it’s like?” Totally his idea. All those were junior varsity schemes at best. But this was going to take some big league manipulation.
I invited Shawn over under the guise of “using that aphrodisiac cookbook” we purchased together (also his idea). I said that cleansing our insides with high fiber foods would make us pure and lustful for each other. Then I served him what would soon be my most famous dish: Breakup Quinoa. Upon the first bite, his face contorted in a display of utter disgust. I could tell from his belabored chewing and the beads of sweat forming on his brow that I had crossed a serious line. It was the same look he gave me when I told him I was a fiscal conservative.
Four days later, Shawn dumped me. I know it wasn’t our fundamental differences, lack of passion or growing discontent – we could have had at least three more years of lukewarm bitterness. But was my dinner that had set me free.
It is hard to end things. But it is easy to cook quinoa.
The next time you are looking for “HIS loss” level sympathy, simply cook up this dish and get your ass dumped:
Breakup Quinoa:
2 cups water
1 cup quinoa
5 tablespoons black caraway seeds
1. Boil water, then add quinoa, cover and lower heat. Simmer for 5-8 minutes, or until all water has absorbed.
2. Serve in the saddest Tupperware you have. Sprinkle caraway seeds on top while mentioning how easy a vegan diet can be.
3. Shave legs and sign into Tinder. Swipe. Fucking. Right.
Serves one.
With this recipe, you’ll never have to be direct about your needs again.
