Now I mention this because in the pre-meal chit chat the other guests seemed surprise that it was Richard and not Christine that had prepared the meal. Indeed he had also cooked a tasty soup – but I should add – Christine, who is no slouch over a hot stove, came up with a wonderful bread and butter pudding (with marmalade).
However the inference from the assembled multitude was plain - surely it was women and not men who should be cooking? I too was asked if I cooked and could answer yes indeed I did – with as it so happens Italian dishes being a firm favourite.
Isn’t it odd that in the home a woman’s place is deemed to be in the kitchen – and yet – if you go out to a restaurant you expect the chef to be a man! Indeed Spain, where men will cook al fresco but rarely in the house, has given the world its top chef and three of the world’s best restaurants are divided between Roses en Cala Montjol and two in Santander.
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So when it comes to wielding a spatula both Richard and myself are in extremely good company, though I bow on bender knee to dishy Richard and his awesome fish pie.
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