Riding the Slipstream

FACT: I cannot cook a decent meal if my life depended on it, and I have the scars to prove it. No, really. I mean it. No jokes here. When [S] suggested that we sign up for cooking classes, I thought at first that I may have heard her incorrectly. My response was, “What ever for? I do not belong in a kitchen. Right now I have all the cooking skills I need or should be allowed to have; I can operate a can opener, boil water, scramble eggs and BBQ meat on a Saturday afternoon. For the rest there is Woolies and take out” Not so, I am told. Cooking classes for culinary enthusiasts is the new “in” thing and everyone, it seems, wants to learn to cook up a storm. (They do?) It is kinda like going the gym (oh yeah?). It is the new social trend and more and more people are doing it. It’s all about socializing and feeling good about yourself as you master new skills. Blah, blah, blah… she sounds like an ad in a glossy magazine. Electric shock therapy and a prescription for Lithium seems more preferable. Right from the start there was a flaw in her argument. I am NOT a culinary enthusiast. I prefer to have my food prepared for me by someone else. I am perfectly happy with eating and tasting as long as I do not have to slave away in a kitchen for hours on end. Where is the fun in eating food you prepared yourself? She also said something about there being something sexy about a man who can cook. Awesome. I guess I must be running low on sex appeal then. Damn. Now I come from a long line of culinary idiots. None of the men in my family can cook a proper meal and we are thoroughly content to be kitchen dweebs. The one thing we are good at is providing moral support and conversation to whomever does the cooking. If a “cooking-companion” is what you are looking for, then I’m your guy. I’ll even wash and clean the veggies when I am asked to. When I want to see a guy in the kitchen, I tune into the food channel and watch Jamie Oliver, Bill Granger and other celebrity chefs as they go about their business. What did me in was the look of utter disappointment on her face as I realized how much it would mean to her that we do this together. This was important stuff and not to be taken lightly! I could think of numerous other fun things to do if spending time together was an issue, yet how could I expect her to do what I want and not be willing to do the same for her? Hence, I gave in and let her have her way. I have learned that time, attention and compromise are key ingredients in a relationship and that it is critical to delight the opponent with the edge, i.e. the one who can and will withhold sex. He he. That said, it is not the kind of ploy I think she would utilize. She is not that shallow and manipulative. It does however make for good common sense to ensure it never happens. So… starting this Saturday, and for the next six weeks thereafter, the Chitty will re-kindle his pioneering spirit, don an apron and release the inner outlaw as he boldly goes where few men of his generation has gone before… set foot in the kitchen with the sole purpose of preparing something that is both tasty and edible. Watch me as I learn to chop, de-bone, puree, julienne, sauté, roast, bake and flambé my way into the new century. I hope they have insurance!