As cooking becomes increasingly cool, men are starting to take it seriously
SOME PEOPLE have all the luck and we men are no exception. The term foodie was coined for us. We have heroes aplenty, from cheeky chappie Jamie Oliver to grunge expert Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall, even the glowy-eyed John Torode on Masterchefis a bit of an idol with his Aussie frankness alongside East-Ender Greg Wallace.
And what about the women? What other generation gets to lust after voluptuous Nigella, prim Delia and our own Allen girls, Darina and Rachel, with our other halves batting not an eyelid as we watch them scramble eggs, whip up a simple supper, or entertain with ease.
Cooking, for men, is just cool. Gone is the drudgery of endless meals being prepared from scratch. Pasta was a novelty, olive oil virtually unheard of. Sure, all these new-found conveniences are open to women, too. But it’s not the same. Somehow for men it just is different.
The kitchen is not, apparently, where we are supposed to be, so when we choose to step in we shine. Could this be because there is no longer any stepping. Most of us have converted most of the living space into a kitchen. Selfish chaps that we are, the idea of being locked away in some galley space is not for us. We want to be centre stage, to be the action. Peacocks? Not us.
And we know how to do it with style. For a start, knives come in expensive shades of orientally-fashioned steel. We don’t buy any old grater, but Microplane, with its space-age technology rendering perfect Parmesan in moments. Pans can be stainless steel or copper, but they are heavy, industrial-like, for real men. You see, it is not just what we cook, but how, and what we cook with.
Which explains the cupboard full of Kenwood/Kitchen Aid/Robot Coupe blenders and mixers. If you spot this latter brand (right) you know you are in serious territory. These professional blenders have price tags ending with three zeros. You won’t find them in the kitchen department of a store, but in the inner sanctum of a professional suppliers, where manly chefs strut their stuff.
Food defines us. Around all the sport and socialising, work and play, food brings us together. That men have embraced cooking so fundamentally is a huge part of our new food culture. The next generation of Irish men has seen something new and no doubt will take it on a stage further. You can easily join the new band of path-breaking, testosterone-fuelled souffle makers, as the growing band of cookery schools have classes where you can get in touch with your female side with fellow males. You see, none of it is truly difficult. Okay, so five-star cooking takes a bit of skill, but simplicity is really where it is at.
Toast some bread, rub with garlic and drizzle with olive oil and any number of toppings, and you have bruschetta. Roast a chicken and you have “fantastic” roast chicken a la Jamie Oliver. In the old days, my mother turned out perfect roast potatoes too, along with separate vegetables, but in the new world of male cooking you don’t have to bother, just pile it all in under the chicken. It should taste lovely jubbly. And you know what? It does too.