Can He Cook?

Tonight I cooked dinner, and suffered the insufferable taunting of one who typically does not cook. In other words, no one trusts my Hamburger Helper. This in itself does not bother me. I am a writer, a hairstylist, a feminist, and occasional romantic, but I am not a chef.

Sometimes, when I lie awake, broke and hungry, I dream of food, eyes wide open. I salivate at the ideas of making my own Shepherd's Pie, sushi, jasmine rice, vegetable egg rolls, cheesecakes, and succulent curries. I have many cooking websites bookmarked, and recipes saved in “My Documents”. But it is only a sort of food pornography; things I fantasize about and that would realistically be, beyond amazing, but they are (more often than not) fanciful and just something to drool over.

The non-cook who sometimes fancies the idea of cooking (and always fancies food) must not only come to terms with their lack of ability, but must find a way to survive without being incessantly connected to Fast Food Life Support. Therein lies the task of finding Someone, (preferably a mate) who DOES cook. I believe that is how one finds true love-- there has to be balance, yin and yang. If you both cook, there is no room in the kitchen. It adds to the fairytale aspect of the relationship. One is starving, the other rescues with the Almighty Spatula.

So I am on my quest to find my Knight in Shining Teflon; the anti-boy, a true man who can put on an apron and get busy for his pseudo-foodie, feminist counterpart. Is he man enough? And moreover, can he cook?