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"Men
Who Cook and Other Fairy Tales"
By Gregg
Podolski, Eastampton NJ
Third-Place Winner
People stare at my wife dumbfounded when she tells them I’m the chef in the relationship. Upon hearing such astonishing, gender-defying news, they all say the same thing: “Who are you and why do you keep following me around the mall?”
The fact is, though, that men who cook are not the endangered species we were once thought to be, (although poaching and deforestation continue to threaten our existence).
I first learned to cook when my wife and I moved in together. Initially, I figured she’d handle the meals because, after all, she
is the woman. I thought it common knowledge that women do the cooking and cleaning while men attend to more manly duties like clogging the toilet and cleaning our toenails with a Dorito.
Still, she gave it her best shot, even though she had no prior cooking experience. On her first attempt she tackled a recipe for chicken tenders and beef rice that her mother gave her, except she tweaked it just a little bit to make it her own, as all great chefs do.
See, in her mother’s recipe, you’re supposed to cook the tenders in a skillet over medium-high heat until brown on both sides. In my wife’s version, instead of a skillet you use a wok, and instead of cooking the tenders, you throw the wok at your husband’s head and then chase him around the room with a meat tenderizer until he cries and hides behind the ironing board. The beef rice you prepare as directed.
Turns out that my wife enjoys cooking the same way an average person enjoys getting smashed in the face with a ball-peen hammer. So we
compromised -- which is what a mature, civilized couple does when the police are standing in their living
room; I would cook the food and she would do the dishes.
Keep in mind, as little cooking experience as she had, I had less. Girls at least play with EZ-Bake Ovens when they’re kids. The closest a boy ever comes to cooking is setting fire to ants with a magnifying glass and even if you buy one with an extra-thick lens, it still takes two solid days to broil up a decent steak.
In fact, the only working knowledge I had of a kitchen came from watching my mom make dinner; for the longest time I thought the only way to make spaghetti was to curse my father and drink cooking sherry straight from the bottle, which is fun, but seldom results in spaghetti.
I stuck to it, though, and over the years I’ve become quite the gourmet. I’ve learned things along the way, secrets of the stove that you won’t find in any book. For example, when bringing a hollandaise sauce to a boil, it’s best not to slip and land on the burner with your face.
Also, if at any time the food in the oven starts to look like something
else -- a new car or a famous celebrity, for instance -- it means you’ve wandered into the living room and are watching television. Turn it off. You have much better things to do than watch
TV -- like put out the grease fire that has surely spread to the curtains by now.
As fulfilling as it is for me to prepare a meal for my wife or guests, I find the most joy in imparting my acquired wisdom to others; men who heretofore thought the only thing about a kitchen you needed to know was you weren’t supposed to pee on the floor.
Granted, it’s not always easy. When I tried to teach my friend how to make baked ziti for a date, I told him, “Put the cooked pasta, cheese, oregano, parsley, egg, and sauce into a bowl and mix it together.” Except what he heard was, “Wear the bowl on your head like a hat and run around until you crash into a wall.”
Still, there’s nothing better than watching somebody prepare their own meal for the first time. My wife has even gotten back into the act, dabbling in appetizers and excelling in baked deserts. Yes, she even made me those chicken tenders and beef rice.
We took a picture of the two of us standing over the table to celebrate the momentous occasion, and by the expressions on our faces it’s clear that all the ugliness from before has been forgiven. You just have to look a little harder to see mine through the football helmet and safety goggles.
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