Saturday, April 11, 2009

Men + BBQ = Instantaneous Cooking Skills

Men are funny. You put them in the kitchen and they freak out massively. They pretend they don't know how to use a microwave (despite the fact that you saw them heating up their damp socks the night before with one of these marvellous inventions). They feign to not know the difference between an onion and garlic. All of a sudden, they forget where all the plates/oven trays/knives/tongs/cooking utensils are, just so that you have to come and help them anyway.

So, fair enough. Men are idiots. Absolutely gorgeous and irresistible, but idiots nonetheless.

But, put a man in front of a barbeque? All of a sudden, it's as if he's become the fourth Iron Chef (Japanese accent: "Eeeeye-on chef Auzzi!"). He gets enthusiastic about marinating sauces. He refuses to use anything but the finest virgin olive oil to lightly sauté his organic duck breast. It turns out that he's been keeping a stash of rather fancy cooking utensils in the garage that are apparently too good for indoor cooking use.

Perhaps my male counterparts are secretly rather domestic but would rather us not know. Most likely because if we knew, they would be the ones doing all the cooking. But somehow, the presence of a massive fire, a huge tank of gas, copious amounts of alcohol and being outdoors releases the inner Jamie Oliver.

PS: I used to consistently burn my ex-boyfriend's revolting steaks to a crisp, in hopes that he would just get off his arse and cook his own dinner. I did this for about two years before I heard about this fantastic thing called 'breaking up'.

PPS: I used the same trick on my parents, in which I would make really weak watery tea with way too much milk. It was a pretty disgusting beverage all up, and they soon learnt to get my brother to fulfil all hot beverage tasks. Good parents...


Your Mother said...

Your tea tasted like the water left in the sink after rinsing out the mugs. I did wonder if you were reusing teabags.