N-----, Spain

N-----'s place was far, far cleaner than that of most single men I've known, though that morning's tiny razor-mown facial hairs still clung to the edges of the bathroom sink and the better part of the kitchen was taken up with paint, concrete mixing buckets, tools, drapecloths, machinery.

"It's for my business," he explained on our hasty four-room tour.

Perhaps blinded by the crisp whiteness of the delicately embroidered linens on the large guest bed or the cool white interior of his immaculate, empty refrigerator as I slid my perishables inside, I didn't realize I had landed solidly in a mature bachelor pad until I went through the cupboards looking for cookware for that evening's meal. To the left of the range, I discovered three-deep rows of canned corn, canned beans, and jars of asparagus. To the right, a "spice cupboard" with oil, vinegar, salt and oregano. Behind door number three, I found two of the largest cans of tuna known to man and a half-used bag of flour. That was the full extent of N-----'s pantry.

I eventually uncovered an expensive set of matching pans, not sure N----- had ever christened them. The silverware drawer contained the single stirring utensil -- a beaten-up wooden spoon. His war on cooking extended to not owning an electric kettle or even a coffee maker. In fact, I only saw him turn on the gas burners to light the charcoal for his nightly water pipe.

After years on the can-opener diet, N----- had lost a taste for fresh food. Despite it already being the height of both strawberry and aspargus season (thanks to Spain's warm weather, I was going to experience the highlight of my European summer twice!), my host abstained from the dinners and desserts I prepared nightly. The exception to this no-perishables rule was pineapple; my second day he cleaned the fruit ripening on the counter and placed its yellow body naked on a plate in the fridge, keeping company with my groceries and N-----'s 12-pack of Coke.

This simplified lifestyle exuded both confidence and a charming masculinity, from the carefully-selected products in his toilet kit to each room's bold yet unitary color scheme. N-----'s two hobbies are the seemingly contradictory shisha smoking and mountain climbing, his living room walls lightly yellowing around photographic trophies from his exploits. Thoughtful and comfortable, N-----'s life nevertheless lacked a degree of nuance, not unlike his command of spoken English.