© Pierre Maré,
2004 - 2007
Offbeat 120
As men go, I am only partially house-trained. I know how to get the dishes washed, but I am no good on the ironing front. I once bought a book on origami and learned how to fold an antelope and a whale, but show me an iron and my brain goes into neutral. Why should I bother to burn and crease my clothes when I have a cleaner who does it perfectly well? Ironing is not something I intend to learn.
Cooking is the job I enjoy the most. In this modern day and age, when the process of hunting for meat is limited to a trip down to the supermarket, cooking is the modern substitute for providing for the family. And it’s cheaper than ordering out.
I am not alone in my interest. Barring Delia Sainsbury, who appears to be famous for her pre-packaged meals, most of the famous chefs seem to be men. At the moment, it seems to be ‘The Naked Chef’, Jamie Oliver, at the top of the pile.
For my part, I found Floyd more inspirational, particularly the show where he got too liberal with the rice wine and set a junk on fire in some Asian harbour. Was it a flambé or a barbecue that he was preparing at the time? Who knows. But the show lingers in my memory.
I learned about dishwashing at about the same time I learned cooking. There is nothing more depressing than cooking a huge meal and then having to wash dishes. If you keep them under control while you are cooking, you cut the washing time in half, and can credibly postpone washing the rest until the next morning.
Other than that, cooking is easy. Read the recipe book to get the general idea. Put the recipe book away because instructions are actually for wimps. Prepare the ingredients before you begin the process. Then apply the correct amount of heat to the right combination of ingredients.
And if it does burn, tell everyone it’s a Creole-blackened dish with caramelized something or other depending on whatever vegetable burned alongside the meat. As in politics, fancy names forgive atrocities and make somewhat more palatable the ugly smell and lingering bitter aftertaste.
If all else fails, there is always the option of picking up the phone and calling for pizza and beer, or in my case, pizza and diet cola.
I am not a particularly healthy cook. I appreciate the flavour that fat gives to meat, and instinctually know that you can fry a salad, as long as you omit the lettuce and cucumber.
If you are reading this column in the hopes of useful culinary tips, I find that it helps to avoid blue cheese with anything. It tastes awful, and you can’t get the dog to help you deal with the leftovers.
You also need to know that although low fat foods are low on calories, they are also low on flavour. So if you want low fat foods, you need sauces. Sauces are almost always high calorie so defeat the purpose of low fat ingredients, plus they are time consuming to make. So, for the sake of ease, just go with the fatty ingredients in the first place. Remember that: not only is it very important, it’s also logical.
Cooking has become a form of relaxation for me, be it on the stove or on a fire outside. There is something therapeutic about knowing that I am providing for my family in a greater degree than the financial sense. There’s also the benefit of knowing that I am cooking something that appeals to me, as long as I don’t have to give it a fancy name and it doesn’t contain blue cheese.
In this age of 45 minute delivery times, standard tasting restaurant foods, bland, packaged frozen meals and fat-free delights with low oil dressings, home cooking is also good for the soul, if not for my waistline.
There is a biological truth to the idea of food being good for the soul.
Carbohydrates promote the formation of serotonin, which is a chemical compound in the brain, the absence of which causes depression. And those vitamins which can survive frying or baking can’t hurt either.
And there is the fact that by cooking for yourself, you enhance your individualism. In a sense, ‘you are what you eat’.
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