Women Can't Cook

[Clodfobble]

A very funny article in the Daily Mail:

The truth is women can't really cook. All they can do is to cater, and there's a big difference... There is clearly little time or energy left after a day full of children to prepare a serious piece of gastronomy, and most women usually rustle up a supper that is quick, dull but, to their credit, relatively nutritious...

But female ineptitude in the kitchen is not just a product of the fullness of a woman's timetable. We all have busy lives these days, so there must be something else, something far deeper and intrinsic that makes women so hopeless at cooking. I have a few theories, all of which will no doubt see me pinned down and forced to eat my own sweetmeats.

The first is that women are less inclined to experiment. Good cooks are those who take risks, who wonder whether X goes well with Y, or perhaps even with Q. If it fails, it doesn't matter, you can always start again.

Women are more afraid of failure, perhaps because they are wary of all that nasty male criticism, so it does them well to stick to well-trodden recipes...

Most men are extremely greedy, and as a result they are in love with food. They want to have food at least four times a day in every way they can.

They don't want to stick with just one sort of food, but they want multiple culinary experiences.

Most women, however, see food as fuel, as a means to an end. Why cook something interesting when you can cook something dull and be ready to watch Friends at 8pm?

Before anyone gets all huffy, please notice there is a rebuttal article from his wife below it. What amuses me most about this article is it describes me to a T. I think both cooking and eating are boring and a waste of time. If I could mainline my nutrients and get on with the day I'd be happy.

The clincher is, Mr. Clodfobble is no better in the kitchen, despite thinking he is, just like the author of the article. He has made some good meals--and a lot of utter disasters that he proudly pronounced delicious.

Who is (or thinks they are) the chef in your relationship, and is it the same person who cooks?