Man hating bitches galore!

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“Cooking” – Mitsuyo Kakuta


It is true that I hate when men cook. Of course I am not trying to say that there are no men who can cook. I am sure in this whole wide world there is someone who can make something I would enjoy. What I mean to say is that up until now, not a single thing I have eaten that was made by a man I have enjoyed.


First of all, whenever a man goes shopping its always far too expensive. They want to buy good quality ingredients, but do not really know what it means to be “good quality ingredients,” so they always simply judge by the price. Of course if this was an everyday thing it would be fine. Long live Engel’s Coefficient! However, most men are not like that. They splurge and by the expensive stuff.


Whenever I go shopping with a man I always slowly get annoyed. Expensive pasta, expensive cheese, expensive fish, expensive vegetables, expensive oils. Things that I think about buying on a daily basis, but then I think, “Should I buy it? No, it’s a waist! But I want to buy it. Well what about when guests are coming over?” But a man can just snap his fingers and buy it just like that. The arrogance! Plus, when they use their vast mountains of cooking knowledge and say stupid things like, “but if the ingredients aren’t good then…,” with earnest intentions is really unnerving. They really have this Puritan-belief that expensive ingredients are good ingredients, and that good ingredients can make a delicious meal.


Also, whenever a man cooks it take a considerable amount of time. Of course there are a lot of things to consider when cooking; nutritional balance, a feeling of accomplishment, using your heart – but inside all of that satisfying hunger, and doing it quickly, are things men tend to forget. If seven o’clock rolls around and it is time to eat, I would not care about how much time was put into it. It can be quite annoying when a man starts cooking at five and at eight he’s still working away.


I am not sure if it’s some physical defect or what, but when I get hungry my hands start to shake, my energy disappears, I break out in a sweat, and eventually I get dizzy and fall over. I’m not joking! When I start to sweat I try to eat something quick. If all else fails I find some chocolate or something to tide me over. For a man in the midst of cooking, these things are completely irrelevant. Even if I am standing beside him blue in the face, sweat pouring out, no matter what he is determined to take his time and make something fantastic. They believe, like expensive ingredients, the deliciousness of the meal is directly proportional to how much time it takes to make.


There are still more things that annoy me. When it comes to cooking, a man will focus like an innocent little kid. As a result they burn pots and pans, use too many dishes, needlessly dirty up the kitchen, raise their voice, and boss around the starving woman next to them.


Furthermore, they have concept of the art of combining different food dishes even after making such a big production cooking in the first place. For example, if dinner is curry, it will be just curry, or just pasta, steak, or fish. Oh the desolation, the loneliness – just like a beggar. The awkwardness of a solitary dish does not communicate to a man. After he hand-selected his ingredients, put his skills to the test, poured in his blood sweat and tears, it is his masterpiece!


Finally, what really bothers me is the fact that they have no desire to improve their skills. If you say anything you will hurt his sensitive feelings. Men get so unbelievably depressed if you give any negative opinions on his masterpiece like it is too salty or it does not really have any flavor. Alright, next time I’ll do this: because men are lacking in carefree and resilient spirits, and because I do not really want to fight over something as trivial as cooking, ill just show them with “delicious” complements.


When a man sets his mind on cooking, more than the appetite, the desire to eat something gourmet, more than transforming the meal into an event or date, above all else it seems aesthetics are given preference. Romanticism and aestheticism. For whatever reason that side of a man is expressively exhibited not in daily life, work, or interpersonal relationships but in the inconsequential act of cooking. That is what I think anyway.
Nevertheless, even though I may already feel sick to my stomach, I will by no means try to stop a man I like when he proclaims that he is going to cook. Romanticism and aestheticism. That laudable side of a man is somehow important, fragile, and with a hint of loneliness. That stupid and independent soul of a man is not something I could possibly bring myself to hate.