Tuesday, 28 July 2015

10 things that happen when you marry a Chef.

Before I moved in with my husband I never expected that someone elses career choice could affect my life so much.  People are always fascinated when you say you are married to a chef and I'm guessing that has something to do with all those fancy celebrity cooking shoes but I'm here to tell you its nothing like the glitzy shiny work tops and tinkling pots and pans of Mr Peire whats his face french fancy from what ever cooking show you watched last Saturday.  Let me tell you a little bit about what happens when you share your life with a Chef.

1. No they don't cook for you at home.

The first thing people always say when they find out is something like "Oh wow I bet he cooks you lovely meals at home." I hate to say it but over the years this has become so repetitive its become a phrase that will boil my insides with annoyance.  Truth is he cooks for hundreds of people a week the last thing he wants to do is to come home and cook for me.  Not to mention the fact that there are plenty for fun gadgets and ovens in a professional kitchen, the most we have at home are Argos scales and mixer that the kids stole the wiskers off.

2. Dolly Parton sung about 9 to 5 but bitch had it easy.

A chefs hours are unsociable, long and unpredictable.  Many things can change a chefs day be it a large party, surprise late diners or a malfunction in the kitchen.  They could not be home until 3 in the morning and you wonder if they have been held up or kidnapped on the way home, you know its the latter.  Sometimes these long hours come with a limited break

3. You know where not to eat and no one wants to cook for you anyway

Because your partner knows the butcher who supplies to that place down the road and they buy the really bad cuts of meat, they can also tell if something is bought in frozen or reheated with one bite. Furthermore they critique everything they eat. Including your poor old nan's cooking so everyone becomes scared to cook for you.  You can't go to any restaurant without getting an oral trip advisor review at any given time.

4. You learn all the fancy cooking lingo and you sound super posh.

From Vol Au Vents to hors d'oeuvres and fancy wine Jus, oh and did you know Ragù is a kind of bolognese sauce because I didn't. CANEPÉS!!!! he just shouted at me from across the room like i'd forget.

5. You symperthise with the catering industry experience.

You NEVER leave a restaurant without tipping and it boils your blood to see bad etiquette at a table.  You can't stand it when people are rude to staff and you super careful as to not be "those customers" because you have seen the tough side to working in the catering industry.

6. People will  ask for your recommendations.

Whether it be at the restaurant you work at or places you talk about visiting, people trust your opinion and for some reason think you have good taste.  To be honest I really like wimpy though so don't ask me.

7.  You become less of a fussy eater.

After 5th or 6th time of being told you have just been tricked into eating tongue, heart, or some meat or concoction you'd rather not try (and actually enjoying it) you become less bothered and actually learn to enjoy trying new things.

8. Days off and date nights are usually midweek, Tuesday is the new Friday!

Which is brilliant for avoiding school kids and busy places of the weekends and getting into those places with limited reservations. Your that person sunbathing on a monday whilst everyone else moans about those slacking off work.  Congratulations.

9. You can't cook without interference.

Because "you're doing that wrong" or "I don't do it like that" and the next thing you know your utensils have been snatched from your appendages whilst you receive a very unwanted demonstration of how it should be done, that you pay no attention to by the way.  My husband recently made his own birthday cake for this very reason.

10.  And finally yes, my own cooking has improved.

I may have picked something up from those unwanted lessons after all and truth be told when I can put my feet up and eventually do get a meal cooked for me it is an amazing luxury that's not easily forgotten.

1 comment:

  1. You're so poor! I would be really sad ,if my man would not cook for me at least once a week. But I agree with You and completly understand You.

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