Pardon us, gentlemen. Chat amongst yourselves. We’re going to have a little girl talk. Back in the sixties, Jimmy Soul recorded a little ditty called If You Wanna Be Happy. Here’s the chorus.
If you wanna be happy for the rest of your life
Never make a pretty woman your wife
So for my personal point of view
Get an ugly girl to marry you.
–Jimmy Soul, 1963 (Written by Joseph Royster, Carmella Guida and Frank Guida)
Be that as it may, I have better advice for the ladies. Get a man who cooks to marry you. Trust me on this. Mr. R. is a fabulous cook. Not only is he good at it, he actually enjoys cooking. He does it for relaxation. Seriously. Who does that?
It’s not that I can’t cook. I was the cook in my previous marriage. And I was a single mom for a while. I can cook. I just don’t enjoy it. I have a repertoire of about five dishes that I can make, including lasagna (the kind where you don’t have to cook the noodles, you just build the lasagna and add extra water to the sauce), crockpot chicken, and hamburgers. I can follow any recipe (because I’m literate like that) and, occasionally I get inspired and do something exotic. On the first day of my summer break I made bruschetta using fresh tomatos and truffle oil, y’all. Ooh la la!
According to Mr. R. I’m somewhat discerning in my taste. Actually, I think he uses the word picky, but once again, it’s to-may-to, to-mah-to. I’m not a huge fan of meat. Not that I’m a vegan either. Eww. I just don’t really enjoy beef. Or pork. Or chicken on the bone.
Fish. I love fish. Mr. R. knows that my favorite meal on the planet is his sauteed mahi fillet with rice pilaf and grilled asparagus. I don’t even like to order that when we go out because I know I’ll just end up disappointed.
I’m such a lucky girl. Everything he makes is delicious. And he’s happy to do the cooking. I chip in by helping with the clean-up. It’s a small price to pay.
Seriously, girls. A man who can cook is worth his weight in gold.