Back in the day (the 70's) when I had my first apartment, and started to experiment with food, I threw together a pasta dish that I have never seen anywhere.
I've been making it ever since, every couple of months or so when nobody's home but me.
I boil up some vermicelli or spaghetti, mix in some butter, a pinch of garlic salt, some dried basil.
After I put it in my bowl, I add a big (big) dollop of sour cream, mix that in, then add enough grated parmesan to make it a little stiff. Then dig in, preferably in my stretchy clothes in front of the TV. Alone.
That's my comfort food. And until I made it for DH#2 sometime in the last year, I'd never made it for anyone, or told anyone about it. And until I made it for him (he loved it), I never had even realized that I'd never shared it with anyone. And I haven't made it for him again, though I know he would love to have it.
I still don't think about making it unless he's at work and I have the evening to myself.
Now I've shared it with my Chowhound friends. Kind of cathartic.