Sinead In The City: My Lonely Food Bag is the meal kit missing from my life

Why is beautiful Nadia making me pay $30 more a week for dinner just because I'm single? Photo / Getty Images.

Sinead

Sinead in the City is your insider's guide to millennial life in Auckland. If you're struggling to pay the bills or find love in the city of couples, you're not alone. Sinead is here to commiserate. Because whatever you're regretting, Sinead has probably done it twice.

Aside from both being terrible with money, let me tell you what I actually have in common with Carrie Bradshaw.

In Season 4, episode 13 of Sex and The City, Carrie reveals that her most shameful habit is eating jam on crackers.

"I like to make a stack of Saltines," Carrie says. "I put grape jelly on them. I eat them standing up in the kitchen reading fashion magazines."

More often than not, I too eat crackers for dinner. At a guess, I would say at least four nights of the week it's cracks on the menu.

Paired with two glasses of wine and always topped with cheese, I'll usually serve myself a plate of cracks with something green on the side, like olives or pickles, because I'm genuinely concerned I'm at risk of developing scurvy.

PARDON? I hear you shriek.

Look, there's truly nothing I wish for more than to have cooking spark joy for me, but it just doesn't.

I don't want to come home after a long day, spend $30 on red curry ingredients, try to follow a recipe, get frazzled and then find it ends up tasting mediocre at best, when I could just trot down to Fatima's for a $13 crisp chicken wrap.

I obviously know it's cheaper to cook dinner than to buy it but I just truly don't care. And I'm sorry but I just don't want to Make A Big Batch Of Something And Freeze It.

I don't want nine Tupperware containers of something that tastes Not Very Good that I have to self-righteously gag through eating for the next week.

I don't want to buy a whole head of broccoli from the supey then eat it for every meal over the next seven days because it's Just Me At Home.

I don't want to eat Pitango soup every night, because I'm starting to feel like so many of my meals come out of plastic pouches that I may as well be on a feeding tube.

What I really want is a My Food Bag, but guess what guys? I can't because I am not a couple or a family.

Apparently, if you're not a couple, a family or wanting to lose weight you're a bit stuffed. Photo / My Food Bag.

Beautiful Nadia Lim tried, she really did. She introduced a "one person option", but it's SO expensive.

Because here's the thing: unlike rom-coms would lead you to believe, single women aren't all high powered, highly strung but highly paid workaholics who schlep home every night to their beautifully decorated, empty apartments.

Most of us are just moderately powered, medium strung, low to medium paid and we schelp home every night to our average flats, shared with three other flatmates who we tolerate at best.

I don't know of a single, single woman who can afford their own apartment, let alone their own food bag.

If I get the Fresh Start Box For One (Fresh start because I obviously want to be a skinny slim jim), for example, I have to pay $114 a week. The same box for two people is $166.99, or $83.50 each.

I have to pay $30 more a week because I'm single. That just seems a little bit bullsh*t to me.

MORE LIKE GOODBYE FRESH. Photo / Hello Fresh.

It's not just My Food Bag that's forgotten single people exist: If you go for Hello Fresh you only have the option of ordering for two or four people. Excuse me, what about threes? What about me, a one?

Then there's WOOP - that random food box that I don't think anyone orders. It offers boxes for one adult (but again, at an astronomical price), two adults or four adults.

HELLO, WHAT ABOUT THROUPLES?

The most reasonably priced option for single peeps, but still a bit unfair. Photo / WOOP.

Is this A) quite discrimmy and a potential human rights offence? Or B) just a thoughtless but could be very lucrative gap in the market?

I am not sure, but please get in touch with me if you want to: A) cook me din or B) collaborate on a My Lonely Food Bag – I am certain we would become billionaires.