There’s something sexy about a guy who knows his way around the kitchen. And I mean a guy who knows his way around garlic and onion, pots and pans, strainers and knife-holders, the list can go on…
This is the kind of guy who switches on some great music, lights a cigarette, places the ashtray at the edge of the kitchen platform, doesn’t bother wearing an apron and chops onions faster than even TV chefs can!
It may be grimy in there but this guy isn’t in the least bit bothered as he goes about blanching, tossing, sautéing, crisping and frying. He’s focused with the assurance of someone who knows the end result is delicious.
All this while you sit at the dining table, comfortably flipping through the pages of Cosmopolitan, watching him get delicious and dirty and try not to think what comes next…
Achtung Baby!
Keep aside those salacious thoughts. What comes next is a clean-up job. Chances are that you’re the Kitchen God’s Wife. Or the Live-in maid. Your job is to undo what he has done. In other words, splotched tomato puree on your tiles, sent little green peas flying everywhere and in that heart-stopping demo of omelette tossing, fed some eggie bits to the burner. There’s also some mashed potato stuck to the sink but you’ll deal with that later.
The Kitchen God, of course, is oblivious to all this. He can only see the gourmet meal he's fixed, bottles of wine and a thank-you smile on your face.
You can see mops, tissues and wipes.
For the moment, you’re silently regretting the day you first cooed at the Kitchen God’s cappuccino and slobbered over his seekh kababs. Your romance has taken a new direction since that fateful day. He has become the God of the Good Bite. You have turned into a human mop that follows him around.
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