Bacon Delivery for Mr. Mongo.
So yeah, I’ve got a career. And it’s a career that for the most part I enjoy. Almost 11 years ago I resigned my position at a very wonderful production company and started a new life as a freelancer. I loved it. I saw a better version of my professional self. And because She has a great career, we found ourselves with the time/money/flexibility to attempt such a thing. And for the most part, it’s been great. Knowing what I know now, I’d do it almost the same way.
But there was a secondary, and equally important, reason for us to make that leap. The boys’ lives were becoming busier and with both of us holding management positions it was becoming difficult to navigate our home lives. My becoming freelance vented some of that pressure. There was a byproduct of this change that we hadn’t considered. I became the homemaker. I became the proud new owner of a short list of nicknames like “Cooker-man” and “Wife”.
I’m going to wax tangential for a moment on gender roles. As in most things, I believe in balance and in the grey areas. So I also believe that some gender roles are real and appropriate while others are stupid byproducts of a different time. A few examples: I’m barely over average height for an American male, but I’d be a VERY tall woman. So I can reach stuff. And while there are a stunning number of tiny women that could readily kick my ass, I am stronger than your average female. So I can lift stuff. But since I’ve never given birth, I can’t factually claim to be “tougher” than a woman, and I am in fact very skeptical of any dude’s claim to be so. I’ve owned several cars with hoods I’ve never opened, so I can’t claim to be more mechanically inclined. I can however throw a baseball farther than any woman I’ve ever known. Don’t get me started on melodramatic outbursts. I’m the KING of melodramatic outbursts. And thanks to butchers and markets, I don’t have to hunt and She doesn’t have to garden. We kill plants and hunters’ hours suck.
So in our house, I do most of the laundry, most of the grocery shopping and pretty much all the cooking. I still fold clothes like a dude, though. And I load the dishwasher like I’ve never seen that configuration of racks before. And sometimes that pan goes in that cabinet, or the other cabinet. Whatever.
But She refuses to sort socks, and cooks with the patience of a Mongol warlord. So there’s that. Balance and grey areas.
One of my Reasonable Intentions this year is to cook more. I love cooking and it is my primary hobby. While I suffer no illusions about Chef Troy, I do think I’ve become an accomplished amateur. But over the last four months we ate at home less, and when we did it was simple food as I’ve yet to master the notion of cooking for two. So this week I hope to start cooking more. I also intend to update my heavy rotation of meals. I’d like to add some stuff to the repertoire. Duck maybe, or Chicken Tikka Masala. Tamales I think, which I’ve recently had some small success with. Really crispy baked chicken wings. Homemade fresh Chorizo. A wicked hot avocado/serrano salsa. Oooh, the perfect four-ingredient Carbonara. And a version of the Scottish classic Finnan Haddie, a lightly smoked Haddock in milk sauce. Maybe a grilled cauliflower steak. I tried that once, it was really tasty. Curried potatoes and chickpeas, we both love that dish…
Yep, lunchtime. Bye.