Knowing his place

I like a man in the kitchen. It’s nothing about finding his feminine side or anything like that. In fact, it’s probably more about his masculine side… you know, men and food, they seem to be so much more dependent upon each other than we are, even though our traditional role might have been as unpaid cook and bottle-washer.

Most times I can take or leave food; it’s no big deal for me to skip a meal. But look at him over there… what a surprise he is. This man, whom I hardly know, is cooking just for me.