It’s not that I haven’t tried. I generally try to cook at least twice a week. I’d like to make dinner even more often than that, but whenever I start leafing through my cookbook collection, she tends to make some comment along the lines of, “Does this mean you’re going to be turning the kitchen into a disaster zone again? I just got done scraping a glob of yesterday’s Bolognese sauce off the top of the stove.”
Which is, as far as I’m concerned, a wild exaggeration. I guess a lot depends upon how you define the word “glob.”
But even if my globs turned to specks, I’m not sure my cooking would arouse her.
I don’t think it’s the quality of my dishes. I may not be a world-class chef, but I’m definitely not one of those guys who would starve to death without someone to cook for him. If I had to start making all my own meals tomorrow, I would dine quite happily until the day I died of clogged arteries. Which would be sometime next week.
That may be part of the reason she doesn’t find my cooking sexy, though, because we live on opposite levels of the food pyramid. She is fruits and vegetables and whole grains. I am meat and potatoes and thick gravy.
She eats only chicken breasts with the skin removed. I want my drumsticks dipped in egg, rolled in bread crumbs and deep fried in bacon fat.
If we order a pizza on the days I don’t cook, her half is topped with mushrooms and peppers. Mine is the side with extra pepperoni and Italian sausage.
Her only dietary weakness is dessert, so she might find me sexier if I made pies and cakes. But I don’t bake. Baking involves precise measurements and I’m not a precision person. If a recipe calls for half a cup of something, I figure that’s merely a suggestion and not an absolute rule.
I prefer freestyle cooking in which any mistake can be cured by adding more garlic and onions, which happen to be my two favorite ingredients. So even if she did find a dash of sexiness in watching me cook, all those garlic and onions I use might make it a moot point, anyway.
No matter what ingredients I use, though, my wife somehow has resisted any urge she may have to rip off my apron and have her way with me.
Maybe if I wiggled my hips while I was mincing the garlic.
Contact D.L. Stewart at dlstew_2000@yahoo.com.
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