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Wow, cool responses people. Cheers.
My childhood kitchen, usually while preparing food, was a place where the women folk bonded, had serious and often emotionally charged conversations. Some of my fondest memories of my mother took place while I helped her make a meal. There is something about female initiation, the passing on of family traditions, a coming of age thing, that is wrapped up with food
This is really interesting, and what I was trying to get at with my vagueness about fairy cakes and kitchens. I certainly think that there's something about the kitchen being women's space, that I experienced at home and , and this is I think a really common immigrant thing, which ties into Lurid's excellent point, at what we called 'clanbashes'. I agree, to me, the food/fuel thing feels a very English thing.
(A clanbash (which now sounds to me like some distant relation of the BDSM munch!) is the kind of thing where every Bengali family we knew would drive to London or Manchester, or Burnley for the weekend or even overnight, at times.)
The women would cook and serve, the kids would eat first, the girls setting the table and helping with serving. Then the 'kids' (this being anyone not a parent, so ages 3-35 were covered!) would go upstairs while the adults ate. Men first, women second. The food was a very important part of the evening, and that's a very Bengali thing. (Indians make Ben. jokes the way Westerners make Jewish jokes. Now eat up, my child.)
I have very vivid memories of several generations of women cooking, serving, hanging out in the kitchen, and know for certain that if I were a boy, I wouldn't have seen much of this, if any. And that food and its preparation are very involved for me with all my experience of being a Bengali, and with the somewhat mixed blessing of tight-knit immigrant communities.
have a girlfriend that I absolutely love cooking proper fancy meals with. It is an aspect of our friendship that we both value immensely. There’s a kind of intimacy involved in working together at something sensual, something aesthetically appealing, that is made with love and intended to give pleasure to our loved ones.
This is very much how I feel. I have a couple of 'cooking friends' (hi Angel!). Oddly though, my most foodie partner (we were ridiculously foodie. boringly so.) and I *never* cooked together! Though we loved cooking for each other/sharing food, which I think again involved sharing that intimacy, sensual/aesthetic experieince. Our styles are too different, I'm a fast/hectic/throw flour all over the place type of cook, whereas he's really slow and steady and precise. and tidy. I terrified him with my flying hot oil, and he drove me nuts doing everything oh so bloody carefully! Although recently we've managed it once or twice, perhaps it's one of those things that I just can't do in a relationship!
And oddly, most of my friends, male and female are bloody good cooks, even the ones that hardly ever actually do it. And virtually *all* of my exes. From which I conclude I'm a pretty tedious/somewhat repetitive person to be around if you're not stupidly into food!
Also, though often I like to be on my own in the actually cooking process, but having people in the kitchen with me, sharing that space. It's a lasting grief to me that I'm not likely to be able to afford to live somewhere with a big, social kitchen for a good long while.
And see, i'm interested in the depression thing as I've been talking about this with my counsellor. When I'm depressed these days, I stop cooking instantly, won't even make toast. But don't stop eating. I just spend a fortune on takeaways/good ready-prepared food. I seem to be quite prepared to bankrupt myself, but not to not eat well. |
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