I’ve retired, and now I’m doing one of the classic retirement things: I’m cooking again.
Before I met my partner, I lived alone, and used to cook roughly half my own meals. My cookery was simple, but it worked. When we got together, though, we quickly fell into clichéd gender roles: I went out to work, she did the home thing. This wasn’t deliberate, more that I had a job and she didn’t—and it was pretty obvious that she felt the way to a man’s heart was via his stomach (well, we’re still together, so that can’t be entirely wrong). When we moved here, she couldn’t work: her profession effectively required her to work for the state, and, here, that means speaking four languages fluently.
Now things are changing. I’ve retired. She helps members of the Chinese community here solve problems. I spend more time at home than she does. So I’ve restarted cooking.
In the decades since we met, I’ve lost a lot of my touch, for what it was. I’ve also lost a lot of my cook books, annoyingly. However, a long time ago, I learnt how to cook a mean curry, thanks to Madhur Jaffrey, and I never lost that skill: I didn’t lose all contact with the kitchen.
But I’ve lost a lot. In the last few years, given I knew I was retiring, and I knew I’d need to brush up my ‘skills’, I’ve taken advantage of our fondness for jumble sales by picking up second hand cookery books—the more stained the better!
I’m starting to explore them, although I’m very much at the beginning of reacquainting myself with the kitchen.
First of all, much to my surprise, the German veggie cookery books produce better results than the French ones. Actually, I think that’s me: I suspect the French books make presumptions about the cooking skills of the reader, presumptions that I fail, so I don’t do the unstated ‘obvious’ thing, whatever it is.
I’ve decided to start learning whatever I fancy in the eating department, rather than relearning my old ‘skills’. For example, I had never, ever, cooked a rissotto, as much as I like them, yet that’s where I’m starting. Furthermore, I’m making beginners’ errors. Fortunately, risottos, it turns out, are rather forgiving—and rather tasty.
The fun thing is that I have cook books in four languages (Dutch, English, French, German), and, with occasional references to dictionaries, I can happily follow any of them. Admittedly, right now, I’m sticking to simple recipes: I don’t want to push my luck, and it’s easier to assemble fewer ingredients.
So, re cookery: so far, so good.