Tomorrow is one of the highlights in my year.
The Cookery Club will hold it’s Annual Dinner.
Nothing blinding in that perhaps,except the Cookery Club is solely for men,and tomorrow their wives or partners are invited to sample what they cook.
My husband doesn’t really like to cook, he prefers the eating part of it, but he does know how, which enables me to take off to far away places now and again.
I don’t really know why he started. Maybe his Mother thought it was an added precaution when he decided to marry an Englishwoman. It was well before Jamie Oliver, and we did have a bit of a bad reputation at that time.
The Club meet in the Secondary Schools’ kitchen once a month. Four tables each with four men. The members at each table represent a certain “species” in our small town.
So there is a table with four council members, four teachers, four from the medical profession, and the last is not categorised but is generally made up of notorious citizens. My husband works on the last.
We women always enjoy the meal,which the men have usually spent more time in planning than cooking. But then the whole thing has more to do with sociability than cooking, as the choosing (and sampling) of the fitting wine does play an important role for them.
For us the washing up is the real eyeopener. Each table has it’s own sink and cooker,but no washing up machine.
We certainly love to sit back at the end of the meal and watch them go about clearing the mess up.
What is interesting of course is the way the different groups go about it all.
For the politicians the order of importance is never the same as the logical thinking of the everyday housewife.
The small things and detail seem to come first for the medics.
The uncategorised and notorious are sitting down with their wives almost before the others have started.
But it’s the schoolteachers that are the sad and sorrowful bunch. They are just never finished, probably because they don’t seem to know how to start. Considering they have all been practising for many years they really should be better.
Of course the last group might be writing a thesis on it.But I know which group I would like in my kitchen.
I don’t mind the cooking,in fact I love it at times-providing I can find somebody to clean up after me, and believe me I do tend to make rather a mess.